Page 59 of Vasmora

Captain Drefan stood before my cell, the corner of his lips pulled to a half-smile. “You’ve had quite an adventure today, haven’t you?”

I didn’t answer, instead wondering if I might glean more pleasure from watching him drink the ampoule.

He unlocked the cell door, gently swinging it open, and waved his hand. “Care to try again?”

I tracked his movement as he stepped back, allowing only a narrow path for escape.

“No? Am I to assume you’ve accepted your fate, then?”

Still, I refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, and instead studied him, my finger subtly brushing over the lump in my pocket.

“Hmmm. Well, let’s not waste any more time, then. General Loyce has requested you in the rotunda again.”

“Is she looking to sacrifice more of her men?” I forced a smile, in spite of the urge to claw his eyeballs out.

He knelt to the floor beside me, the cold metal of his gauntlet tearing at my newly healed wound when he gripped my leg. A jolting pain shot up my thigh like wildfire over dry brush, and I cried out through clenched teeth as lightning ripped through my muscles. The moment he released me, the intensity dissolved to tiny shocks that hummed through my blood. “You smile now. But only because you’ve no idea what your future holds.”

“Nor do you,” I growled, and I swiped out my nails, just missing his face.

He gripped my gloved hand and squeezed. Hard. Harder.

I clawed at the metal that crushed my only means of defense, whimpering through my teeth.

“You think I’ll fall at the mercy of a powerless mortal? A female, no less.” He spat the words like phlegm on his tongue and released me on a flare of agonizing pain.

Biting my lip to stifle the urge to cry, I cradled my undoubtedly broken finger.

Drefan tipped his head, the amusement in his eyes tearing through my good sense to stay quiet. “How fun, you can be bitten and broken.”

“I am going to kill you. Mark my words.”

His lips pulled to a taunting grin. “Perhaps the elixir still circulates through your blood. You seem quite delirious.” He waved me upright. “Come now. The future awaits.”

I reluctantly pushed to my feet, muscles braced, cautious.

Eyes on mine, he knelt down and unlocked my shackles, the copper tang of blood filling my mouth as I bit back the urge to kick him in the face. As gut-wrenching as they were, every trip outside of the cell meant a chance for escape, so I didn’t hesitate, or resist, when he gripped my arm, leading me into the corridor.

Without warning, a heavy gauntlet cracked against my face. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I stumbled to the side. Intense pain throbbed in my jaw, radiating up to my temple, every heartbeat pounding through my skull. My sinuses burned, eyes stinging with tears, and I shook off the dizziness cupping my cheek.

“If you attempt to stab me as you did the other guard, you’ll regret it.”

Jaw clenched, I blinked back the tears. “You can’t kill me. How frustrating that must be for a skilled hunter like yourself. To watch your prey parade in front of you. Mocking you.”

He stepped closer, backing me up a step. “Careful, girl. As you can see, there are many ways to make you wish you were dead. Now, come. The general is waiting.”

With a shove from behind, I led the way through the corridor, a lingering ache pulsing in my face, my finger already turning purple. My eyes shot daggers every time I caught a glimpse of him over my shoulder, as he prodded me up the staircase. I mentally clocked the sealed off door one level down from the rotunda.

Another flight of stairs spat us out onto the long corridor that I recalled from earlier in the evening, until we arrived at the dreaded rotunda, where a servant and three guards waited alongside Melantha and General Loyce.

Hands bound in manacles with a chain connected to his neck, Dravien stood at the other side of the guard, thankfully no longer wearing the face of Zevander. He didn’t bother to look at me, but kept his gaze grounded toward the floor.

The contraption he’d been chained to earlier had been removed, leaving only the errant drops of blood spotted across the white marble.

“Ahhh. The entertainment has arrived,” Loyce said, before sipping from a golden goblet where she sat perched on a throne. At the bottommost step of the dais, a metal post protruded through the marble, attached to short chains. General Loyce waved her hand toward it. “Secure her.”

With a rough yank, Captain Drefan hauled me toward it, and as we passed Dravien, he released a whimpering sound. Manacles bit into my wrists as my body was awkwardly secured against the post. An obnoxious pain drummed in the tip of my finger, swollen and purple.

Like a bird of prey, Loyce smiled down at me from her perch. “Did you know Zephromytes, like myself, are said to be the spawn of war? The product of Solassion plunder during the ancient expansion.” She rose to her feet, sauntering toward the hulking, pale figure beside her. “What better way to humiliate a proud species, like the Orgoth, than to breed soldiers that possessed their brute strength?” Running her lacquered nail down the Orgoth’s arm, she took another sip of her drink. “Solassion men rarely fuck outside of their own species, so the Solassion king believed any soldier willing to mount a captive female Orgoth should be perceived as a great honor. And he encouraged his men to plunder without consequence.” Lazy strides brought her alongside me, and she lifted one of my matted curls, her lip twisted in disgust when she released it. My skirt flew up over my head, exposing my bare backside to everyone gathered in the room.