Page 98 of Dragon’s Rebel

Jean-Claude frowned. “It should be doing more damage than this.”

Moredamage? Thorne could see the edges of the wound blackening, and the poison was still burning its way through to his muscles and veins.

“Try some more,” Corwyn said dispassionately.

“Are you crazy?” Rebel said. “I don’t have the Seal. I don’t know where it is. If I did, would I be fucking around in this house looking for it?”

Corwyn gazed at her. “You are the Keeper, are you not? I’m sure you can find it if you simply apply yourself.”

Rebel gave him the finger. “I’m never letting you have it. You really think I’ll let you break Vyrkos, thinking you can control him somehow? You’re insane!”

Corwyn laughed, his mouth a cavern of rotting teeth and flesh. “Perhaps.” He turned to Jean-Claude. “More,” he whispered.

Jean-Claude brushed another bit of the toxin on Thorne. In the same wound.

“Fuck!” he yelled, before he could stop himself. Corwyn smiled. That fucker was so dead. They were both dead.

“Stop it!” Rebel yelled, fighting against her chains.

“You know how to stop it,” Corwyn said.

“Don’t,” Thorne said through his teeth.

The toxin ate further into the wound, boring in like a hideous insect, destroying the tissue. Nothing, not even the serum, had ever hurt like this. He suddenly understood the instinct that caused animals to gnaw their own limbs off when they were stuck in a trap.

The door opened and another minion dressed in modified leather armor came in. He murmured something into Corwyn’s ear.

“When?” Corwyn asked sharply. “How many?”

Thorne couldn’t make out what he was saying; not only was the pain too bad, but it seemed like the toxin was dulling his senses.

Corwyn gestured to Jean-Claude, who was looking at him questioningly. “I need you,” he said. “We have an issue. And maybe watching the Draken suffer for a while will change the Keeper’s mind.”