Page 743 of Coal Hearts

I hated him.

I despised him.

Yet when he fed me morsels from his own plate, I was grateful.

Fucking grateful.

Those nights, I threw up.

I purged the meagre contents in my stomach and slipped into yet more nightmares where I woke up screaming.

But the next day, the sun would rise, the guards would come, and hell would demand another piece of me.

* * * * *

“Stand on the stage, Henri.”

Hauling myself to my feet, I stepped onto the podium and waited for a guard to strap me to the pole like usual.

Only...no one came.

Crates appeared, carried in by long-suffering staff. Crates I’d seen before.

I stiffened as Victor smirked. “Friends...please, help yourselves.” Marching to the nearest crate, he pulled out a familiar paintball gun. Cocking it, he faced me squarely and grinned. “You’re not bound. You can run if you want.”

I flinched and looked around the ballroom. My gaze landed on Ben and Stewart. They’d flown back in this weekend and hadn’t touched their dinner. Ben gave me a horrified look, and Stewart looked green.

At least they had the decency to care about my downfall.

At least they hadn’t been caught up in it.

“Not running?” Victor pouted. “Come now, Henri. Shooting you point blank isn’t very sporting.”

I sighed heavily as every Master armed themselves and crowded the podium. Muzzles of their guns pointed at my very naked, very vulnerable body.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Peter hunching in his chains and Ily straining to get to me.

I had to give it to Victor.

He knew people. And he knew weakness.

Ily didn’t step out of line for fear that her actions would hurt Peter, and I didn’t step out of line because I would never hurt her again. We condemned each other to hell through love.

Balling my hands, I stood straight and glowered at Victor.

“One last chance.” Victor cocked his head with a smirk. “Run and Ilyana can wear these bruises.” He sniffed as he took in the state of me. “After all, you’re already wearing quite a few.”

I gritted my teeth and didn’t reply.

“Come on, Vic. Enough dilly-dallying. Can I shoot?” a Master in the shadows asked.

Victor took his time, but finally, he nodded as if he’d agreed to a quiet luncheon. “By all means.” Throwing me a look, he added, “Seeing as you didn’t run, Henri. I suggest you get very good at staying still. If you so much as twitch, I’ll put Ilyana in your place. If you scream, I’ll make her scream twice as loudly. Ready?”

I barely had time to brace before the Masters fired—

* * * * *

I lost count how many colours layered me that night.