Page 70 of Heart of Shadows

He had to salvage this. The stone could not remain in King Toroth’s hands—and he could not allow her to condemn him to death. Think! he urged himself. At any moment, the Kingsguard could be at his door and Toroth’s blade at his neck.

52

HARPER

The small light from the corridor momentarily blinded Harper after her stint in total darkness and she shrank into the corner as its glare swept across the cell. Her pulse ratcheted up, thundering through her ears as shadows crowded the doorway. As her eyes accustomed, Harper couldn’t separate the churn of fear and relief at the sight of Dimitrius’s face looming before her.

Her body remained flooded with terror, but she refused to show it to him. Folding her arms around her to stop them from shaking from fear and cold, she glared at him, her gaze unwavering. His brow rose in momentary surprise before an unexpected mirth glittered through his eyes, tugging something swift and foreign within her. He turned back to the guard and they conversed in a tongue she did not understand.

Dimitrius seemed unhappy with whatever the guard said, for with a final icy glare that sent a thrill of fear to the pit of her stomach, he left with a swish of his cloak that sent a sharp, sweet scent with an aftertaste of musk rolling across her before the door slammed shut, leaving her in darkness.

It was not long before they came for her again, but to both her dismay and relief, Dimitrius was not with them—one miniscule piece of familiarity in a sea of the unknown. Two guards, their faces obscured by helms and beards, hauled her to her feet. Their breath and sweat was almost as bad as the cell. She struggled as they dragged her down the corridor and into another room that was big enough to accommodate them all. It was dimly lit and cold—even colder still when they tore her cloak away.

Harper felt naked without it. Terror flamed anew as she caught sight of metal instruments hanging from one of the walls and a chair with straps affixed to it in the centre of the room. No matter how much she struggled, it was barely any effort at all for them to drag her to it and strap her in. Tighter and tighter they bound the straps until spikes on the chair’s arms pierced the flesh of her arms. Struggling only made it worse, so she forced herself to remain as still as possible. It was impossible. Fear, and exhaustion had her body shuddering wildly, and with every movement, pain lanced through her.

A dark cloaked male entered, his face obscured behind a black mask and only the glint of his hard eyes visible. As he raised his hands, pain seared through her entire body. She cried out as the agony burned white hot, worse even than when the wood elves had attacked her. Her struggles caused the metal spikes upon the chair to dig deeper into her flesh, adding to her pain.

Harper’s eyes rolled into her head as unconsciousness threatened to take her, and she gladly reached for the darkness. Suddenly, the pain ceased. She rebounded back to waking with a rush of dull, fresh pain, but not as excruciating. Hot wetness soaked her feet. With a flush of humiliation, she realised she had wet herself.

“How did you steal the Heart of Dragons?” the black-cloaked figure asked.

“I didn’t,” she gasped, struggling to still herself once more to prevent the spikes from aggravating her wounds. Pain crashed over her once more and she sank into unconsciousness.

A bucket of ice-cold water drenched her. She woke, gasping in air and water, having no idea how long she had been unconscious. Pain wracked her as she spluttered and the spikes bit harder into her skin.

“Do you see where we are?” her torturer remarked in a gravelly voice that betrayed no compassion. He gestured with a giant hand around them. “I have many means, physical and magical, to make you suffer. You can end it sooner. How did you steal the Heart of Dragons?”

“I swear, I did not steal it.”

“How did you steal it?” he growled, sending claws into her gut.

“I found it in the woods. I didn’t take it,” she forced out past her blinding fear.

“Which woods?” he yelled into her face.

She flinched away from the spear of his pale eyes. “In Caledan, far from here.”

His eyes narrowed. “Such filthy lies!” He struck her across the face with a backhanded blow that sent her reeling and dimmed her vision momentarily. When he raised his hands, a different kind of pain assaulted her. A pressing all across her body that compounded the pounding of her head and the heavy weakness of her limbs crushed and distorted her.

“Stop,” a cold voice commanded with quiet authority. “Touch one more hair on her head and I will obliterate you from the face of this land.” A familiar voice. One she should have dreaded even more than her current captor. Dimitrius. And yet, he had stepped in to stop this—to come to her defence. Harper did not understand—but she could not be more glad for a reprieve, no matter how temporary. Harper did not think she had any more fear to give, and yet it electrified her fraught nerves anew.

Through tears and the throbbing of one side of her face, she watched the cloaked figure rise, puffed with indignance, before he melted into a bow. “My lord.” The two words were edged through gritted teeth.

“I shall take over from here. Out. Now.”

“I am here on the king’s orders, Lo?—”

“Now. Or would you like me to inform the king of your disobedience? Whose orders do you think have me in this foul pit? She is one of mine—this charade should never have gone so far. Begone before I have you in the chair.”

“At once, my lord,” the man murmured, gave a deep bow, and left.

The moment the door shut, Dimitrius rushed over and knelt before her, his gaze searching her face with a surprisingly caring intensity. “Are you all right?”

Harper trembled. What fresh tactic was this? She had nothing else to give, strapped to a chair, bleeding, in a pool of her own… She swallowed. It hurt. Everything hurt.

“Of course you’re not,” he murmured, running his gaze down her. As his attention lingered on the pool at her feet, her cheeks burned. She hoped he could not smell the urine mixed in with so much water. Her teeth chattered as a wave of cold rushed through her once more, and she could not hold in the yelp of pain as the shivering jarred the spikes in her arm.

Dimitrius swore when he noticed her injuries and worked to release her. His hands were surprisingly gentle, his fingers warm on her cold, clammy skin. In seconds, he had the restraints open and ran his palms down her arms. Harper expected pain as he raised her arms from the chair, but a soothing tingle ran down her limbs. She turned them this way and that. With a strange itching sensation, she watched, her mouth hanging open, as the torn flesh knitted itself back together without leaving even a scar. In a rippling wave, warmth spread through her, banishing both cold, pain, and a good measure of exhaustion from every inch of her body. Harper stared at Dimitrius, mute.

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