Ivan kept begging for a break, which only made Vade smile wider. “Don’t worry, only a few more letters to go.”
The fae concentrated on his art, focusing on getting the spacing between the letters just right. If he was going to be an artist of punishment, let him be a good one. When he made it to the ‘T’ he noticed Ivan’s screams had turned to soft whimpers.
The human’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and his skin was far too pale. Vade grabbed the second bottle of seidr sana, pried Ivan’s slack mouth open, and forced the elixir down his throat. When he yanked the paddle out of his chest, Ivan gave a weak moan.
After a minute or two, the pin holes in his abdomen had sealed, his knees had been reconstructed, and the letters Vade had carved in his thigh were gone, unfortunately. But he was far from through.
Ivan seemed to barely register what was happening as Vade waited patiently for the elixir to take effect.
He could have used his shadows to do extraordinarily brutal things to the man, but that was too far removed. His bare hands were personal. Intimate. Vade wanted the pain he delivered to resonate, and putting one step in between him and his victim was one step too many. Same with the weapons hanging on the wall. Sure, they were fun, but there was nothing a trusty dagger couldn’t take care of.
He wanted tofeelit. Wanted to taste Ivan’s screams, drink in his cries, and spill his blood all over the stones at his feet. The wolf in him needed to be fed.
Ivan came to, staring at Vade like he was seeing him for the first time. “No more. Please, no more!”
The executioner grinned. “You almost passed out before I finished what I was writing.”
Ivan kicked and pulled at the bindings until his face turned red. “Just fucking kill me already. Stop bringing me back. Just end it!” Defeat had finally crept into his eyes, settling in with each word.
Vade loved that look. Loved when he saw those who knew they were receiving justice finally accept there was no way out. But he wasn’t ready to see that look. Not yet. That’s what he’d thought he’d wanted, but now he had something even fouler in mind.
“I’m sorry for what I did to Orelia. I am. If you let me go, I’ll never ever do anything like that to anyone ever again. Please,” Ivan begged. “Please let me live to make it right.”
Vade’s jaw clenched. “You drugged her with moonseed knowing not only that it's paralytic but that it’s fatal to witches. You intended to kill her!”
“I didn’t! I swear, I just thought—”
“You thought what?” Malice seared his insides, fists clenching.
Tears blurred Ivan’s eyes completely.
“You were going to rape her, weren’t you?” The words tasted like acid in Vade’s mouth. “She told you ‘No’, and your fragile, highborn ego couldn’t handle it, so you mixed in moonseed with her ale so you could have your way with her anyway.”
“Yes,” Ivan admitted, shaking uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his body. “But I swear, I didn’t know it was fatal to witches.I didn’t want to kill her. I just . . .when she rejected me, something snapped.”
Vade’s teeth were ground so tight he thought they may break.
Ivan’s mouth hung open, but he didn’t speak for a few seconds as tears dripped down his cheeks. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said meekly.
“You look like a scared little boy and not nobility. Someone who had every advantage in life, who chose to prey on a woman because she didn’t want him.”
Ivan stared at the ground, weeping. Moments of silence dragged on. The chains sat loose on the ground, Ivan’s shoulders slumped, and his head hung low. All the fight had gone out of him.Therewas the defeat Vade was looking for.
This time, Vade channeled all of it—the admission of intent to rape the love of his life, beating her, ever laying a finger on her. When Vade walked out of this place, he would never again be the monster he was about to become. The monster he was when he first became the executioner. The one who used every tool at his disposal.
This kind of life was over for him. He’d tell Aradonis he wanted out, confess his feelings to Orelia, and if she didn’t want him, he’d find work somewhere doing something honorable. Because she made him want to be better, even if it meant he’d lose her in the process. So, Death’s Shadow took a deep breath and went to work for the last time.
Both femurs were shattered with the wrench-like weapon, the fae screaming louder than the human as he unleashed the entirety of his fury.
Fifteen hits of the paddle, tearing away layers of flesh with each uprooting.
Using his shadows to break Ivan’s arms at the elbows, wrists, and hands.
Two knives to the shoulders, one to the gut—repeatedly.
Vade lost himself in his madness. He went to work on carving his eyes out of their sockets. He’d never heard someone scream the way Ivan did as blood spurted from his ocular cavities. There was more than pain and fear in the sound, there was something else.
Terror. Pure, undiluted terror.
