I lean in like I’m wanting to share a secret, and he edges closer.
“In the seventh layer of the hells,” I taunt. “You’d be nice and cozy there.”
I see it then.
The monster peeks out from inside him, barely contained beneath the thin veneer of his skin. His eyes narrow with a rage so primal it makes the air in the room thicken, pressing against my chest until breathing feels like a luxury I no longer deserve.
The twitch in his jaw, the way his fingers curl at his sides as if itching to wrap around my throat… they reveal the beast he’s spent centuries leashing.
The one that built empires on broken bones and silenced worlds with a whisper.
It’s the same monster that shaped me, that taught me cruelty as a language and power as the only truth worth knowing. And in this moment, with his hate blazing bright as the sun, it stirs in my blood too.
A reminder that no matter how far I’ve run, part of him will always live in me.
But I smile wider, letting him see that I’m not the boy he broke anymore.
I’m the one who broke free.
A laugh forces its way out of my nose, and the levee breaks.
He slaps me again before his palms slam into my shoulders, and I’m weightless as my chair teeters on its equilibrium then tips backward. My back crashes to the ground and knocks the wind from my lungs, and I laugh harder.
“You had so much potential,” he snarls from above me, smoothing his hands along the front of his armor as he glares down at me. “The best genetics. Wealth and prestige others would kill for, and yet here you are, nothing more than a wasted opportunity for excellence. Such a fucking disappointment. I will break you, Xenesis. I’ll get my answers.”
Another hysterical laugh leaves me at the unbridled hate that hits me like a punch.
“You’ll try,” I wheeze as the steel toe of his boot rams into my kidney, and I revel in the pain just as much as watching him snap. “You’ll fucking try.”
Fists clenched at his side, his foot moves from my abdomen to nudge at the side of my face, smearing my skin with whatever soils the bottom of his sole.
Filth.
Dirt and dregs and waste.
Beneath him, just like he views me.
How he views Bash.
Father would crush him if he ever found out. Tear him to pieces in front of me and thrive on my pain while he obliterated us both.
It’s better this way, I tell myself as he presses his foot harder against my cheek.
I send a silent thanks to the Fates, even as I lie here beaten and bruised.
That eternal, sacred promise is kept.
The words whispered under sheets in the quiet of night as Bash slid that ring on my finger… that oath to always protect him…
It remains intact.
Father says nothing else as he eases his boot from my face and pulls his leg back.
I meet his eyes and smile again as I brace myself for the impact.
Bash
Bloodsplattersacrossthefloor and wall as Cato flicks his knife, turning them into a crimson display of death to join the others. Another soldier thuds to the ground, hitting the concrete like a marionette whose strings have been cut.
