Page 49 of Vasmora

Again.

“Stop!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the rotunda.

“Oh, we’re just getting started, little dove!” Loyce let out a boisterous laugh and waved her hand, ordering another strike.

Dravien’s voice ground to a hoarse cry of pain, the streaks across his body wet and blackened.

A sob broke free, my knees refusing to hold up the weight of my body.

Again, the guard struck him.

And again.

Teeth grinding, I screwed my eyes shut and turned away.

It’s not Zevander. Not him.

“Open your eyes.” The general whispered in my ear, suddenly close enough that I could feel her warm breath on my neck. “Open them, or I will have him gutted.”

“He isn’t Zevander.”

“One of the great mysteries of Transferoszi is how much of the soul is retained. A small piece of Zevander could very well be crying out from death.”

I winced at another bellow of pain that reverberated through the rotunda, not daring to look at how many open streaks of ruined flesh marred the man’s body. “Why are you doing this?”

She chuckled and ambled away from me. “Only for your misery. Call out for her, Dravien, and perhaps I will end your suffering.”

“Please, General. No more.” The sound of Zevander’s voice, pleading for mercy, tore at my heart.

“Call out for her.”

“Maevyth!” he cried. “Please!”

Another strike.

“Maevyth!”

Another.

“Gods, please! Make it stop!” Dravien bellowed, his voice an echo of the man I loved.

Another.

Until, at last, something inside of me snapped.

Before my mind could register the act, I swung out my gloved hand, jabbing the long, metallic nails into the throat of the guard holding me. The metal sank like hot blades, blood splashing onto my face, pouring down my fingers in pulses where I must’ve struck his artery.

No warning. No hesitation.

His wide eyes and gaping mouth told me he hadn’t seen it coming.

The moment I stepped away, released from his clutch, he pressed his hands to his throat in a futile attempt to staunch death.

Coughing. Sputtering.

He fell to the floor, armor clanking as he crumpled into a twitching heap beside me.

Loyce spun around at the same time another guard charged for me, drawing his sword. “No!” she screamed.