Bastian growls and slams on the bars whenever someoneencroaches on us and for that,I’mgrateful. Honestly,it’sthe least he can do.I’mdown here because of him. I was violated because of him.
Nyx stirs a couple of times, but doesn’t wake.
“We need to get out of here,” Bastian whispers but I ignore him. “Shaye? Shaye, are you asleep?”
I sense him move closer and I whip around with a hiss, fire in my eyes. “Don't. Touch. Me.”
He raises his hands so I can see them.I’dforgotten he had given me his shirt, so Icansee all the planes of his bare chest andthewoundinhis side.
“You’re injured," I blurt out, surprising us both.
Bastian glances down at it and waves off my concern. “It'snot deep.I’veendured worse.”
And by the scars riddling his torso, I believe him. But when he turns to stare in the direction of where most of the celebratory noise is stemming from, I gasp.
“Who did that to your back?” I ask, voice teetering on broken. He volunteered to take the whippingI believed Iwas to suffer when his backhasalready gone through dozens of lashes.
He freezes. At first he doesn’t face me, but once he’s collected himself, he squares his shoulders to mine.
“My father.”
My eyes widen. “Your father whipped you?”
He nods. Pity flares in my belly for him. No one, not even Bastian, deserves to be so cruelly treated.
“Tell,” I almost say my parents but replace the title with,“the king and queen. Heshouldn’tbe torturing you -”
“I don’t need to tell your parents, Shaye.”
I frown. “Your father is unfit for his command if he is treatingyou -”
“My father is dead.”
I still. By the wild look on his face, I gather there’s a confession there. “What happened to him?"
He flicks his eyes up to meet mine.“I killed him.”
“You killed him?” I repeat, nottruly believingit. "When?"
“A few weeks ago,” he admits, no longerlookingme in the eye. “In front of your parents.”
“Garren and Keres saw?”
“They saw my beast form, too.”Bastian strokes his fingers through his blonde locks and nods. “Listen, Shaye. I fucked up.There’sno denyingthat,and Idon’tdeserve your forgiveness, your mercy, or your kindness. But we need to help one another escape orwe’reall dead.”
I frown. “I'm not going anywhere with you."
“Shaye," he moves toward me and I kick back. He stops, dragging his hand down his face. Atfirst,I readhim asannoyed, but then Inoticehim swipe tears from his eyes. “Fuck.I’mso sorry, Shaye. I never wanted anything bad to happen to you. But watching you endure... Not being able to get to you...I’mjust so sorry.” He inhales sharply. “Please, let me help you escape. Please.Ican’twatch you die.”
He’sright about us needing to escape. DespiteDrogoninsisting he will keep me around as his pet, I would rather die. But Idon’tintend to die down here.
I do a once-over on my body. Most of my flesh is pink from light burn marks. Otherareas,whereDrogonpaid special attentionto,arecrimsonand angry. There are even full-blown handprints on my thighs, my breasts, and by the feel of it, my neck.
Despite my pain being a hindrance, thesugovanstill has some time left in my system so I can’t help speed my healing. I don’t have my magic, and I don’t have weapons. I don’t stand a chance to fight my way out of the Underworld. And I’m not strong enough to carry Nyx.
Nyx groans, drawing my attention. His forehead is perspiring.
“I thought your demon friend said the ointments would stave off any infection,” I hiss at Bastian.
