Her lips started moving, but I couldn’t hear anything over that banshee’s wail.
She continued, like a whisper on repeat. It was either a mantra or a prayer, but whatever it was, it was grounding her through whatever shit this was.
The veins at her temples bulged. Her legs trembled violently. Blood ran in two thin trails from her ears down her neck, soaking into her bra straps.
She didn’t cry out.
I was a few feet closer to the stage without realizing it, fists clenched at my sides, eyes locked on her. My jaw ached with the force I was grinding my fangs.
Raze had his hands over his ears like everyone else. “She’s mouthing something.”
“She’s grounding herself,” I growled.
Sweat glistened over her collarbones, down her sternum. Her thighs were shaking, and her muscles were locked tight.
She bled and shook, but she stayed upright.
“She’s barely blinking,” Raze said again, voice sharp with disbelief. “Zuko, that’s not… She’s not even flinching anymore. That’s not normal.”
But I couldn’t look away.
She lifted her head, and her glassy golden eyes met mine. She had blood on her lip from where she’d bitten down with her fang to split it open in an effort to stay quiet.
I adjusted myself in my pants. My cock was harder than ever before.
Raze turned to me in horror. “Are you—oh my Fates, dude! You’re getting off on this?”
“She’s fucking gorgeous,” I said, voice hoarse. “And she’s doing amazing.”
“You need therapy.”
“Valid,” I told him.
My blood was humming. I didn’t just want Rune Bloodwyne—Ineededher.
I didn’t need her the same way simple men needed simple women. I needed to devour her strength, kneel at her agony, and brand my name with my tongue across whatever piece of her she’d let me.
The sound blissfully stopped after five straight minutes of it, but it felt like so much more.
“Intel?” Professor Emberveil asked.
“No.”Rune’s head hung forward, blood trickling from her ears, lips pale. She was soaked from the cold round earlier, trembling from exhaustion, skin flushed and shining with sweat.
“Maybe electrocution, then, hmm?” Professor Emberveil suggested.
Rune shrugged her shoulder half-way. “Give me your best shot.”
Professor Emberveil pulled out a long, blunt rod. The silver tip glowed green faintly. Heat and static pulsed off it in hypnotic little flares.
She walked right in front of Rune.
“She’ll break,” someone whispered behind me.
“No, she won’t,” I snarled.
“Tell me the intel, Rune,” Professor Emberveil said calmly, using the wand under Rune’s chin and tilting it up until Rune was forced to look at her. “You don’t need to suffer for fake information.”
Rune’s eyes were unfocused but still defiant.
