I draw in a tremulous breath and shake my head. “Where is Kilkenny?” I ask.
Uncertainty appears on her face. “He’s doing some meditation right over there.” She points, but I don’t follow her finger.
“Tell me the full extent of my powers,” I say. “No lies, please. I need to know everything.”
Alys’s eyes widen, but rather than avoid the statement or deny anything, she nods. “Alright, sweetling. Let me get Tiernan and we’ll talk.”
CHAPTER 68
Carys
I promisethat I won’t scream. Over and over, I try and fail to swallow the agony, to fight the pain and avoid giving them the satisfaction of breaking me.
Over and over again, Eefa mars me and Briony mends me. Iywan stands by, ordering each cruel action. Sleep hardly comes, and I swear I’m beginning to hallucinate.
A day ago, I awoke in my cell with my wrists and ankles bound to each segment of a wooden X-shaped contraption that keeps me upright. My wrists chafe, and the muscles in my legs have turned to gelatin, the weight of my exhausted body putting pressure on my shoulders. My very soul aches, and every time Eefa carves into my flesh, I hope with all my heart that I’ll bleed out.
Today, I’ve not been let out of the contraption, and I wait impatiently to relieve the overwhelming, painful pressure in my bladderthat’s starting to outdo the pain in my shoulders. Thedrip, drip, dripdoes nothing to help, and for the life of me, I cannot figure out where the bloody sound is coming from or how the cell isn’t flooded by now.
I wait. And wait. And wait, but no one comes.
Time ticks by, lasting eons. I rehearse my resistance. I rehearse all the ways I can defy them. All the ways to say no to the same requests I’ve gotten over and over again. Forcing me to translate the ancient texts hasn’t been as easy as they thought it would be. Neither has getting me to summon my powers. Every time I try, Aneirin’s screams echo in my head, and the guilt consumes that fire inside of me.
Drowsiness is starting to settle over me when the heavy metal door slams. My head jerks up and I clench my muscles as my bladder threatens to release. Soon… soon I can relieve myself and get back to torture as usual. To think that I find comfort in being able to use the chamber pot, only to be cut into again … It’s so ridiculous, it nearly makes me laugh.
This is my life. Unbelievable.
“Good morning,” Eefa sings as she waltzes toward me with Briony in tow. No Iywan. I didn’t see him yesterday either. What the fuck is going on above ground? What has become of the kingdom, of the castle? Of my mother?
I catch the glint of the dagger as Eefa pulls it from her belt. My heart pounds hard against my ribs. Eefa steps up to me with purpose in her stride. I’m taller than her, yet she intimidates me more than anyone over six feet ever could.
“We need that translation,” she says smoothly. “No more faffing around. What does the passage about the prophecy say? And don’t leave anything out.”
I stare down at her. No point in wasting my breath on lies; I know what’s coming.
Eefa lifts the blade, and my pulse jumps in fearful anticipation. Instead, she pulls a fistful of my hair that has come unraveled from its braid and saws through it, delight in her wild gaze. My breath stalls as ebony and gold strands fall to the ground. She grabs another fistful from the other side and does the same, then again for good measure. I stare at the hair on the floor, my heart aching in Ellynne’s stead—she would’ve loathed this awful moment.
The next slice of Eefa’s knife goes straight down the front of my tunic. The sound of the fabric tearing only heightens my unease, and all my muscles tense as I stand before Eefa and Briony with my torso bare. Gooseflesh breaks out along my skin from the kiss of the air in the dank cell.
“Ee-fa,” Briony punctuates, but Eefa doesn’t even turn.
Eefa drags her gaze slowly over my frame before she lifts the dagger and presses it against the base of my throat. I draw in a sharp breath and hold it, terrified to move. Eefa grins up at me. Her grin is so inhuman that I shudder, and the blade pierces my skin. I groan through my teeth.
“Oh, the many times I’ve coaxed that very sound from you, darling,” she says with an airy laugh. A sensual smirk plays across her lips. “Only under… different circumstances.”
Repulsion crawls in my blood, turning my stomach, but I force myself not to look away from the predatory beast before me.
“Funny how you long to be worshipped—always taking on another lover, calling to your servants at all hours of the night, and drinking yourself into a stupor at any given moment. You claim to have rescued an innocent woman from the brig, only to keep her away from her friends and family, from her home, just so she could make you a bloody dress. You don’t give a damn about how your actions affect others… Yet you’re offered ultimate power, and you choosenowto show weakness? Heart of a warrior, my arse.”
Heart of a warrior. Ellynne’s words on her lips causes a different kind of flush to rise within me.
A trickle of warm blood runs from the small cut on my neck before cold steel replaces it, this time whispering across my abdomen. “You really think everyone is so obsessed with you, don’t you? Me? Wynn?Callum?”
My heart clenches and I squeeze my eyes shut as if that can eradicate the image of Callum’s throat being slit from my mind.
“How many others have you cajoled into your bed forfun?” Then her voice suddenly changes, becoming raspier—a familiar, soothing voice. Instead of Eefa before me, it’s Ellynne’s wavy red hair and curvaceous figure I’m staring at.
My heart stammers as I force air into my lungs.
