Page 31 of Their Blood Rite

‘No. No, they didn’t. You said she died in a fire. A fire set by The General and his men. You said-’

‘The Blood Queen took her. She carved her up as she still breathed, son. I didn’t want you to know how much she suffered.’

Cole shakes his head.

‘Ashe is one of them, Cole. A blood witch. If we don’t deal with her now, she will carveusup too. That’s what they need to survive. Blood and death. Pain and suffering.’

‘No!’ I try, pulling against my restraints. ‘Don’t listen to him, Cole-’

‘They are all the same. Maybe not at first, but as soon as they start using blood magic, they can’t help it. A blood witch killed your mother. They held her captive. It took weeks for them to rip her apart. They took her eyes. They cut out her tongue.’

He goes on and on, describing in detail all the dark and disgusting things they did to her. And I see it all chip away at Cole's heart. At his very soul.

His hand tightens on the hilt of the dagger.

More words. Things that make even my stomach turn.

Then, without even looking at me, Cole spins and drives the dagger into my side, right up to the hilt.

Mouth open, I look from him to the dagger. And with a whimper, I watch him pull it free.

He returns the dagger to his father.

‘Good boy. Well done, Son. Now go and prove to them all you are one of them and have shunned her completely.’

Cole walks away, grabs Thalia, tears off her chiffon dress and throws her onto all fours.

Then he looks at me as he drives himself into her with so much force she screams.

His eyes never leave me as he takes her with brute force and sheer violence.

Every thrust is hateful, and he looks me dead in the eye as he ruts into her, gripping her hips so hard she’ll be left with bruises.

I refuse to cry. To plead. To beg. And I refuse to look away as he fucks my friend. He thinks I’ll care.

I don’t.

Buthewill. He’ll regret betraying me like this.

The others in the group are no better. Like starving mongrels, uncaring and unforgiving. The few girls that seemed ready for this are attempting to make it pleasant. They try to kiss their partners. To persuade them to be gentle.

But all pretence of willingness is gone within minutes.

My sheer dress is ripped from my body and tossed in the dirt.

And I’m cut.

Slice after slice as they make their offering. Blood trickles down my legs. My stomach. Down my breasts. They stop their fucking to come up to me and make their mark.

I scream with each one but refuse to cry.

Slice. Slice. Slice.

They cut and hand over their blade to the next.

Cut. Cut. Cut.

My head lolls, and it’s getting so hard to stay awake. To feel anything but pain. When I manage to look up, Cole’s father stands before me.

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