Sawyer wanted to tell her to go fuck herself. He really did. Instead he glared, trying to channel his inner Eduard. No one could give the evil eye like his griffin, and he knew Eduard was looking for him this very second. Draco, Andvari, and Henry, too. All he had to do was get through this alive and they’d find him.
“But before they get started, I do have some questions for you myself. Frey and Sol have promised me that it doesn’t matter if you’re a bit tenderized before the sacrifice, but I’d really prefer not to hurt you, Sawyer.”
“I’m sure,” Sawyer grumbled. “But since you’re planning on killing me, I’m not sure how I feel about helping you out.”
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you Sawyer. Frey and Sol are. But they have to fuck you first. Don’t worry, though, they have a special ritual that will make you like it, at least until it’s over. The rules are very specific. Those ancient rituals tend to be so tedious. Now, what I want to know is how you were able to bring the guardians together. You must know who the chosen one is, Sawyer, and I want to find him. Just think, when I’m blessed with a child by Tiamat and I have the chosen one as the father of my child! It would be glorious!”
“You’re ridiculous and demented.”
She slapped him and his head flew around. He fought back the bile that threatened to choke him. His head spun, black spots dotting in front of his eyes.
“Tell me who the chosen one is, Sawyer. Tell me how you managed to ingrain yourself with the guardians. You’re cute, but I honestly doubt you fuck well enough to convince them you are the chosen one. Which means you must have had help. Tell me who helped you Sawyer.”
“I’m the chosen one.”
She grabbed his face, her nails shifting to talons which very nearly pierced his skin. Her eyes had sharpened to the same dark orbs Eduard’s became in his griffin form. “Stop lying to me. Tell me.”
“I’m the chosen one,” Sawyer repeated.
Magdalen pushed his face aside again, and then turned to the guards. “Rough him up. Spare his head. I don’t want him to lose consciousness again.”
Sol and Frey both grinned at him. Sawyer had never been more scared in his life. The first punch was right to his stomach, stealing the air from his lungs. He doubled over, fighting the urge to puke again, when one of them stepped behind him and wrenched his head back by the hair.
“You need to tell her what she wants to know.”
“I already did,” Sawyer panted. “Not my fault she doesn’t believe me.”
The guard in front of him rained down a series of blows across Sawyer’s torso and arms. The other held his head still, even as he struggled to try to escape the bright flashes of pain that accompanied each punch. His body throbbed, the sharp pains on exacerbating the excruciating pain in his head. The blows stopped and Magdalen approached him again.
“Are you ready to tell me the truth now?”
“I’m telling the truth,” Sawyer said. His voice was a husky croak and tears burned in his eyes. “The goddess herself told me I was chosen.”
Magdalen sneered then raked her claws down his side from shoulder to hip. He screamed then, the pain more than he could imagine. “If you were anointed by the goddess, don’t you think she’d be here now, stopping this from happening?”
Sawyer wished she would come and show Magdalen the truth, but he knew it didn’t work that way. “Magdalen, you need to stop this now. If you let them kill me, Eduard will never forgive you. You’ll never get what you want.”
She huffed and spun away. “It’s too bad you won’t be alive to see just how wrong you are. Work your magic boys. If I stay here any longer listening to him spout his lies, I might kill him myself.”
Magdalen stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind her. Frey and Sol grinned at him even as they began loosening the ropes tying him to the chair. The moment he was free, he tried to fight, realizing he had limited chances and was growing weaker by the second. His hopes were dashed within seconds when one of them swiped his legs out from under him and he hit the floor once again.
Sawyer
He must have passed out. Sawyer blinked awake and he was no longer in the cabin. He was outside under the stars and could hear ocean waves pounding the shore not far from him. He carefully rolled his head to the side and could actually see the water. Awareness began to seep back into him, and he knew he’d run out of time. His guardians weren’t going to find him. He had to get out of this mess himself.
The training with Andvari helped him quell his panic. Breathe. Focus. His wrists were tied, stretching his arms wide like the sacrifice they intended him to be. He gave the ropes a gentle tug and felt a bit of movement. Breathe. His legs were free but… he didn’t have clothes on. He didn’t know why it had taken him so long to realize it. His body throbbed, bruising deep to the bone in places. The scratches down his side from Magdalen burned.
Breathe. Focus.
Sawyer rolled his head to the side and could make out the post they’d staked into the sand. The rope holding his arm was attached to it. They weren’t expecting him to be conscious for what they planned on doing to him. The cloying scent of incense reached his nose. They were burning something nearby, preparing for the ceremony. He wouldn’t let it happen.
He concentrated his reserved strength on his right arm. Breathe. He pulled with all his might and the post toppled to the side. He wrapped his hand around the rope and pulled it up so he could hold the post in his hand. It was only a little thicker that the staffs Andvari used during their training. He could do some serious damage with not much more than a stick. Andvari had made sure of it.
Breathe. He focused on his other wrist next. He rolled off the makeshift altar they had him spread out on and managed to untie his wrist. His legs were weak and his head was spinning. Even though the wind was cool, his body was hot. Too hot. He shook his head, trying to clear away the fogginess in his mind but nothing helped. He had to get out of here.
With the post clutched in his hand as a weapon, Sawyer crept out of the circle of rocks. He focused again, digging deeper than he’d ever had to, and ran. It hurt. His entire body screamed in agony with every step, but he had to put some distance between them. He thought Frey and Sol were human, but honestly he wasn’t entirely sure. If they were some sort of creature, they’d find him easily with their enhanced senses. He ignored the pain and ran, keeping to the stretch of beach for only a few minutes before dipping into the woods. His feet were bleeding, cut up by the unforgiving undergrowth. Breathe.
He heard a bellow of rage from a distance. They’d discovered he was missing already. It wasn’t enough time. He hadn’t gotten far enough away and his strength was already waning. He ran, holding the staff in front of him to prevent at least some of the limbs from slapping him in the face.Goddess, he thought,help me.
