AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You won’t change my mind about this.” He ripped the neckline of her gown, and the gauzy pink material split down the middle, revealing pale, slender curves he wanted healednow. The quicker he began, the better. But once he started, he couldn’t pause until he’d carved the last word of the song into the final bone. To pause was to ensure eternal death.
Since he would allow nothing to halt him, her return was guaranteed.
“You’re a fool if you do this,” Hades warned. “The Greeks are tricksters by nature. I should know!Youshould know. I guarantee she’s toying with you. See past your pride and rejoice that you’re free. Move on.”
Rathbone pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “You’ve never loved a female the way I love mine—”
“You comprehend nothing of my past, boy!” It was the first show of anger directed Rathbone’s way in centuries.
“Perhaps not,” he corrected, “but it’s obviousyoudo not comprehend the depths of my pain. Otherwise you’d understand the impossibility of moving on. Now, give me your chisel.”
Hades huffed with disgust but tossed the tool to the ground, just within reach. “Very well. I’ll let you continue. You are insolent, and you could use the life lesson. Just know your regret is assured. And, though I refuse to watch you throw away your future for a female you were using as a surrogate mother, I’ll take great delight in laughing in your face when you realize the error of your ways.” That said, the king stalked off.
“I’ve never used Lore as a surrogate mother,” Rathbone snarled at the king’s retreating back.
The male didn’t turn or slow. He simply lifted a hand with his middle finger extended.
With a huff of his own, Rathbone focused on the current task and palmed a dagger.
Inhaling and exhaling a deep breath, he braced for what came next...
Begin.
He cut into Lore. As quickly and seamlessly as possible, he freed bone after bone. Taking apart the female he loved broke something inside him, but he didn’t stop. Theywouldbe together again. Soon.
He would allow nothing less.
1
Present day
Rathbone tossed the liver he held into a bucket and wiped his bloody hands on his apron. All the while, the vampire strapped to a bed of stone sobbed. Of course, the blood-drinker’s chest cavity currently gaped open, displaying what remained of his vital organs, so the tears weren’t exactly a shocker.
They occupied a cell in Rathbone’s dungeon. Moans of pain and misery echoed from every direction, creating the perfect soundtrack. The only downside? A grotesque, metallic scent saturated the damp, chilly air.
“Please,” the vampire cried. “I swear to you, I’m not a spy.”
“Why did I catch you spying then?”
“You didn’t—I swear on the life of my beloved. I got lost. Was searching for—”
“Be quiet or I’ll remove your tongue,” Rathbone warned. He’d heard enough excuses and lies.
The male blubbered a few seconds more before going silent.
“May I go now?” a third person asked.
Rathbone didn’t bother to face the visitor who’d dared interrupt the torture session half an hour ago. There was no need. Mystical eyes known as mátia covered his body, granting him a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. Less apparel meant cataloging more details.
Today, he’d opted to go without a shirt. Since the apron strings hid little, he was able to observe the cell from every angle. Each element registered in unison, crafting a three-dimensional picture in his head.
A fae prince stood near the exit. Well, the spirit of a fae prince. The mystical defenses surrounding the Realm of Agonies prevented anyone from teleporting in without a special key. In fact, if someone attempted it, their spirit was ripped from their body, bound with enchanted chains, and whisked straight to Rathbone. If they tried to walk in, they had to first overcome countless traps.
The vampire had walked. The prince had gambled with teleportation. Both were suffering because of their choice.
“Let’s recap what you’ve told me so far,” Rathbone said to the fae, his tone casual. He reached for a crimson-stained dagger on the wheeled cart at his side, sending the vampire into another round of sobs. “Your name is Bogart. You are the consort of a harpy, and you’ve come from her land, Harpina. Three months ago, nine warlords invaded the realm, slaughtered the males in their path and temporarily incapacitated the females. You would’ve died, too, but a harpy-oracle, also known as a harpacle, visited you days before and told you what to do during an invasion, even providing you with a blueprint to escape. Now the warlords and harpies are allies, working together to defeat Erebus Phantom. As payment for her kind deed, the harpy-oracle asked you to deliver this message to me. She has seen where the rest of my wife resides. For the right price, she’ll spill every detail. Do I understand you correctly?”
“You understand,” the prince confirmed with a sharp dip of his pointed chin. Despite the manacles around his wrists, he waited at attention, as a good soldier should, showing no reaction to Rathbone’s gruesome activities.
