If Semphrys discovered what Lyra was to me, he would not settle for hunting her down and having her killed. He would send his most ruthless lieutenants to drag her back to Dorthus, and then he would take his time breaking her. Tormenting her mind and brutalizing her body.
All to punish me.
Only once I was thoroughly shattered would he grant Lyra the mercy of death, knowing that a piece of my soul would die right along with her. Knowing that I could not endure my own wretched existence after being the cause of her suffering.
But I would not reveal what Lyra was to me — would not give him any more reason to harm her.
He could melt the flesh from my bones, allow my body to regenerate, and burn me a thousand more times.
I — would not — break.
“No,” he mused, the obsidian shards that formed hisblack crown gleaming in the orange glow of the lava. “She was not merely a body to warm your bed. If she were, you would not be so reticent. So determined to protect her.”
My insides crawled at how perceptive he was.Dangerouslyperceptive.
While I’d had a few dalliances over the centuries, those females had been little more than props to keep up appearances as the Dark King’s heir and loyal dog. To divert attention from my true motives, I’d meticulously cultivated a reputation as a cruel and ruthless prince and honed that image like a blade.
I sensed it when my father unsheathed his mental claws and cringed as he slashed through my shadows to access the inner sanctum of my mind.
After his extended torture session, my shadows were wispy and anemic. My mind exhausted from the pain. But I hurriedly shored up my mental defenses and braced for his next attack.
My father was unequaled in his mind-scouring abilities, and he could shred through the mental shields of even the most disciplined practitioner. I was hardly a match for him after days of this torment, but thankfully, before I’d fully drained my mental reserves, the doors to his private chambers swung open to reveal a tall, pale demon swathed in black robes.
My nostrils flared with dislike as the male’s scent reached me, and I clenched my jaw tighter against the pain.
Fleshtalker.
His gaze flicked to where I hung suspended amid the flames. The demon’s oily onyx eyes seemed to sparkle with glee, and yet he kept his voice bland as he said, “You have need of my assistance, Your Majesty?”
“Yes,” said the king, turning toward his servant and folding his hands behind his back. “The prince has not been forthcoming with information regarding the huntress. I fear my son may have forgotten his duty . . . forgotten whom he serves.”
If I hadn’t been so focused on blocking my father out, I might have rolled my eyes at this show of disapproval. Claiming me as his son as I hung suspended over the raging hellfire was the most paternal thing he’d ever done.
“That is troubling news, my king.”
“Indeed.”
There was a long, ugly pause as Fleshtalker studied me, his thin lips pursed.
He was careful not to appear too eager, but I could practically taste his excitement. The sick fuck couldn’twaitto get his hands on me, and it was all I could do to contain the panic that was clawing its way up my throat.
Though I was unmatched in my shielding capabilities — a necessary skill I’d developed to ward against my father’s intrusions — Fleshtalker’s power didn’t function in the way that most demons’ ability to read minds did.
He could extract memories held in the body, which was how he’d earned his name. My mental shields didn’t work on him the same way they did my father.
“May I ask, Your Majesty . . .” Fleshtalker grimaced. “Well, it is rather unsavory, but . . . I wish to ensure I understand your request.”
Semphrys’s eyes flashed, and I sensed my father growing annoyed.
“The huntress . . . You wish to know who she is and why the prince has seen fit to conceal her identity. Am I toassume that prompt retrieval of this information is of paramount importance?”
“You are,” my father bit back, his nostrils flaring with anger. I knew it grated on him that I’d withstood his methods –– that after days of torture, he hadn’t managed to break me.
“Of course, Your Majesty. And shall I glean this information by any means necessary?”
“You shall,” Semphrys replied, his mouth curving in a wicked sneer before striding toward the doors.
As he moved, he pulled his shadows with him, the black tendrils snapping taut so quickly that my shoulders screamed in agony. Dark manacles wrenched me forward, and I slammed down onto the floor.
