Page 22 of A Broken Promise

“Do it.”Kill me now, I demanded, still tasting his blood on my tongue. Desperate panic, like quicksand, was pulling me in.

“No,” he sternly said, regaining his composure. With a snap of his fingers, two of his soldiers appeared right next to me.

Fire ropes now scorched me, the skin on my wrists melting as if ice. My body locked in pure agony. I couldn’t think straight, my mind so close to shattering.

I couldn’t hear anything anymore. A high-pitched noise now filled up my ears, vaguely remembering as they grabbed me. I might have thrashed and kicked, might have been screaming. But the fiery ropes were gone… and pure darkness embraced me.

10

Iwoke up to a freezing touch on my wrist. Instinctively, I jerked my hands away.

“It’s ok, my dear,” Brita whispered. She sat on the edge of the bed with a cold washcloth and ointment, cleaning and lubricating my burns. My heart pressed in relief.

“Brita.” My tense voice eased.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” she whispered but refused to look at me. Instead, she rinsed a washcloth in ice cold water and put it back on my wrists. I flinched, but immediately felt relief as it touched my burning skin.

I scanned the room quickly. Large windows were now covered with heavy curtains pooling on the floor. Exquisite chandeliers were the only source of light, leaving the room dim.

Covered in their dark armor from head to toe, two Destroyer soldiers stood still by the door. Orest and Broderick. Orest nodded briefly to me when he caught my eyes on him.

Features on his face were softer, exuberating kindness each time he smiled. I knew he was a Destroyer, a soldier in the Destroyer General’s army, yet something deep inside of me knew for certain that he wouldn’t hurt me; that I could trust him. It didn’t help that he wasn’tjust caring, but also good looking with perfect lips. A little bit of blush came to my skin as I pulled my eyes away from his smile.

He is a Destroyer...I gave myself a mental slap. A Destroyer and trust? A Destroyer and kindness? Whatever infection I was fighting was making me mental.

I looked toward Brita, who was still avoiding my stare. Anxiety tugged my heart. Brita was always so full of pity, yet this time she wasn’t even willing to look at my face. Thoughts about the handsome soldier by my door went out of the window as I quietly, yet sternly, asked her a question.

“Brita. Tell me. What’s going on?”

“It’s okay, Finnleah, dear. I am here to help.” She put more ointment on my arms.

“Brita. Just tell me.” I kept my voice down yet placed my hand on her.

She finally looked up at me with the saddest eyes.

“Lord Inadios sent me here toprepareyou for the night.” My heart dropped. Tingles went through my body. I shouldn’t have asked. I should’ve been dead.

I wouldratherbe dead than defiled by the Destroyer. Yet it seemed that Fate had long stopped caring about my opinions.

I tried to keep my face neutral but couldn’t keep my lips from thinning and brows angrily bunching together, glaring at Brita.

“Your dress is ruined anyway, so we must change that. Can't have you looking like an old chimney sweep, my dear.” She tugged on the burned pieces of tulle.

I looked down. The dress was indeed ruined, charcoaled from within. The lump in my throat got bigger as Brita grabbed what was supposed to be my night gown—a tiny piece of sheer fabric with small straps, not even long enough to fully cover my backside.

My eyes met Brita’s, silently begging her.

“Now come, miss, we need to get you changed.” Brita chose to ignore my pleas. I eyed the two soldiers still standing by the door, both looking at us. “The Lord Destroyer General commanded that they are not to leave your sight atany time, withnoexceptions.”

I reached for that familiar, comforting anger, yet even the anger well felt empty. Only sadness and pity lay there now, echoing what used to be the mighty rage. The world was cruel and unfair. I didn’t do anything to deserve this or cause this, yet here I was. Alone. In pain. Lost and forgotten. And now… left to survivethis.

I didn’t dare say the right word.

But if it wasn’t me, then it would’ve been some other unfortunate soul, born at a wrong time and in the wrong place, left to endure this life. And if I had to pick me or someone else to endure this fate? I’d always pick myself, because something deep inside of me was always certain that no matter what happens, I would endure it.

Still, I shot an angry look toward the soldiers before twisting my back to Brita, letting her untie the rest of my dress.

Her hands were gentle and surprisingly warm. She slowly went through all the ties, stopping each time I flinched. Soon enough, I slipped out of my dress completely. My undergarments were gone next.

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