I groan and eye one scorpion and then the other Scorpion, no longer sure which is the greater threat to me. I want to fight this, but the blade slave in me insists that removing something from the list of things that can kill me is never a bad thing. I also understand on a deeper level what this offer really is. It’s their way of showing me that they’re willing to protect me even from them.
I haven’t agreed to stay. I’ve never expressed a hint of desire to become one of them. I’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m here for answers and as soon as I have them, I’m gone. Yet despite all of that, they’re offering me assurance and a kind of sanctuary. I may have never heard of fettik venom before, but I have no doubt that they use it in their hunts, that it’s a calling card for their Order. If I leave, knowing everything that I know about them, they won’t be able to use that calling card against me. It evens the potential battlefield between us, which is not something to be taken lightly.
The Scorpions are willing to sting themselves to keep me safe.
It makes me want to punch them, but it also opens my eyes.
Fuck, this is going to hurt.
“I hate this,” I admit uncharacteristically. “I’d rather take on asintcat without any protection.”
Curio barks out a laugh, but sints with all their spikes and razor sharp claws are a picnic compared to what some venoms can do, and according to them, Tarek is cradling the worst of the worst. I lay my head against the back of the chair as flashes of the healers and masters dosing me with different venoms and poisons runs through my head, making my stomach churn with anxious unease.
“It’s not too bad, Beasty,” Riall reassures me softly. “A little pain, and then you never have to fear a scorpion again.”
The double meaning in that statement is not lost on me.
Curio scoffs and rubs the back of his neck. “I did almost die.”
“Great,” I quip, blowing out an apprehensive breath while offering him my most withering glare. “That’s very helpful, thank you.”
Out of nowhere, the Empress’s tail goes up in warning, and I flinch at the sudden movement.
Tarek shakes his head at Curio. “That’s only because you fancied yourself an owl and tried to jump out of a window,” he scolds.
Curio just shrugs, his unapologetic grin growing even wider. “I was a beautiful owl though,” he defends, and I laugh.
Apparently, my momentary mirth agitates the Empress even more, and she snaps her claws in front of her as though she’s reaching for some invisible prey. I slam my mouth shut, not looking to rile her up, especially since I’m about to be on the receiving end of that temper. Like most royalty, she lacks a sense of humor, or so I’ve heard.
“He was in the fairy wine all morning that day, Beasty; don’t let him scare you,” Riall contends.
“Had to if I was expected to get anywhere close tothat,” Curio argues, a shiver quaking through him.
Curio’s aversion makes me feel better about my own reaction to the overgrown arachnid. Maybe if the Empress wasn’t the size of an actual empire, it would be fine, but she looks like she thrives on nightmares and dines on small children.
“It hurts, but you’ve been through worse,” Tarek assures me. “Fettik venom is worse the longer it sits in your system, but I’ll bring her mate out right away, and he’ll give you the antitoxin. We won’t let you suffer unnecessarily. You can trust us.”
I study the dark blue rims of Tarek’s eyes, running my gaze down the straight line of his nose, across his high cheekbones and voluptuous lips. My perusal pauses as I stare at the beast in his hands. Before I can talk myself out of it or work myself up even more, I lift my arm and offer it to both scorpions.
“Good girl,” Tarek purrs, and where once those words might have rankled, now they wind through me, tightening and stimulating and settling warmly in needy crevices I don’t want to think about right now.
Wasting no time, Tarek moves the Empress closer. I try not to tense, but it’s difficult knowing, while also not knowing, what’s to come. I’m very aware that this isn’t going to feel pleasant, but just how unpleasant it’ll be is yet to be determined. I expect the scorpion to strike right away, but she doesn’t. It isn’t until Tarek leans closer and blows softly on her that she reacts. The stinger strikes faster than I expect, she gets me twice before Tarek pulls her away, and I’m instantly pissed that they undersold just how shitty this is going to be.
Fire climbs up my arm, and I grit my teeth and settle back in the chair, my strength immediately sapped. My vision blurs, but whether that’s an effect of the venom or the tears welling in my eyes, I don’t know. I feel like I’m melting from the outside in. I gasp, prepared to smell the scent of charred skin in the air, but strangely it’s not there. The inferno and agony coursing through me should result in my combusting into ash as I sit here, and yet I’m still whole and supported by the velvety chair beneath me. Everything hurts, which makes it all the worse when I seem to grow even more acutely sensitive to all the stimuli around me. Murmured voices try to talk to me, but I’m lost to pain and sudden overwhelming sensation. A new prick against my arm douses me in frigid water, and a shiver wracks through my system.
Fire and ice war for a claim over my soul. I have no choice but to writhe while I wait to see who wins, to see who will be my new master as I thrash and silently plead for all of it to stop. I’ve never felt anything like this. I hope to never feel anything like it again. Vows pour from my mind in an effort to bargain with the pain, but in the next minute, it’s so all-encompassing I can barely think at all. I’m taken to the edge of what I can take, of who I am, of what I can survive, and just when I think I’ll be dropped over the cliff to finally succumb to the darkness I’ve left unchecked for so long, I feel something tug me back.
Awareness creeps through the molten blaze and glacial chill. Arms wrap tightly around me as a gravelly voice croons sweet promises in my ear. I can’t piece together what’s being said, and yet I know on some visceral level that it’s soothing and comforting and everything I need to pull me safely from the edge of anguish. I submit to the touch, the tone, the claim of the power that’s anchoring me here. It’s fighting my battle when I’m too weak, and I cling to that sliver of salvation with fierce desperation.
I’ve been tortured and beaten, violated and poisoned, abandoned and stripped of who I am for as long as I can remember, and I’ve had to survive it all alone. But now, as I struggle to find the surface of this suffering, I feelthem. Hands caress my limbs. Fingers rake through my hair. Lips skim the shell of my ear as calm assurances pepper my skin. Their strength laps against me like rippling water as they try to pull me from the pain.
I surface with a gasp, panting, as Curio wipes sweat from my brow.
“There you are, Moonling,” he drawls, the resonant sound of his voice dripping over me like warm honey.
Fingers caress my cheek as Curio runs a cool rag down my neck. I bite back a moan at how good it feels, my skin seemingly still hypersensitive even though the pain is starting to fade to a small echo of what it was. Palms skim up the tops of my thighs, and I find Riall crouched in front of me, his brow furrowed and his eyes soft and attentive. Tarek’s feather-light touch trails across my cheek and down my jaw.
“It’s over,” Riall assures me, absently running his rough callused hands up my thighs again.
