Page 36 of An Enchanted Knight

Once there, they leapt again.

This time they landed right in the center of hell.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nude, on a wooden slab, legs apart, ankles shackled, his wrists bound above his head, the sense of helplessness filled him with fury.

How long had he been here? Days? Weeks? Tristan heard footsteps followed by the sound of two male voices.

“Is it time to wake him up again?”

“Yes.”

“How long is he going to keep this one?”

“It’s not our place to ask, or to care.”

“So we are mindless drones that sit, beg, and roll over? That’s not what I signed up for. Where’s all the power I was promised?”

An unhappy recruit, Good to know.

“Shut up and hand me the needle.”’

“Fuck you.”

Tristan peeked through half-closed eyes to see two men struggle over the injector. The larger one, an olive-skinned male, bashed the smaller man’s head into the wall. When he slid limply to the floor, the larger of the two walked toward Tristan

“Are ye awake?” The man spoke in a soft whisper. Tristan opened his eyes. “What did you do to anger Meliot so?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Tristan whispered, his voice almost gone from hours of screaming and nothing to drink. “Can I have some water?”

The man shrugged and brought over a ladle full of water. Lifting Tristan’s head, he helped him drink it, refilled it twice, until he’d had his fill.

“Why did you hit him?” Tristan asked referring to the person on the floor.

“He’s an idiot, I’m tired of hearing his bullshit,” came the reply, as he studied Tristan.

“Like what you see?”

“I don’t swing that way,” the male replied, his cheeks coloring. From his contemporary speech, Tristan knew he was from modern times.

“I’m supposed to heal you enough so that you can withstand the next round with Meliot.”

A healer.

The man walked over and laid his hands on Tristan’s ribs. Instantly, warmth crept through him. His body bucked up from the table when a powerful bolt of energy surged into him. The male’s eyes locked on to his private area.

From the hungry look, Tristan knew he’d lied. The male was very interested in what he saw. Maybe he could use it to his advantage.

His gut wrenched at the thought. He’d never once been attracted to men.

Once everything began to settle, he took a deep breath. For the first time in days, his ribs were fully healed.

“Thank you,” Tristan locked gazes with the man, who looked away, reddening slightly. “What now?”

“I’ll get Meliot.” He didn’t move.

“Who are you?”