Page 122 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

He slowly rose to his feet. Red smears covered his hands and stained the cuffs of his uniform. She wished she hadn’t spoken because he crossed the distance between them and held the dagger out to her, hilt side facing her.

Kolfinna couldn’t move.

“Take it,” Sijur said, eyes alight with wicked contentment. “Take it and cross that boundary you oh-so-desperately wish to ignore.”

“Please.” She tried to back away, but her legs were too leaden to move. The strong smell of iron pervaded through her hazy thoughts. “I can’t?—”

“Youcan.” His sticky, warm hands found hers, and he pried her fingers open and nested the handle of the dagger in hers. “You are more than capable of being what you are, Kolfinna. We are all monsters, you and me and Joran, and everyone here in this base.”

Kolfinna looked away from the crazed gleam in his eyes and searched the prisoners’ hardened faces. None of them looked terrified, but she noticed the tensing of their shoulders in anticipation. She couldn’t bear to look at the bloody, pulpy mess of the fae male Sijur had left.

Sijur pressed her fingers closed around the hilt. “You can do it.”

“I’m not—” She swallowed down the bile clawing up her throat. Tears pricked her vision. “I’m not a monster.”

“You are.”

She wanted someone to save her, to take her away from this horrible, horrible place. But no one was coming for her. She would have to do this.

“Is that … an order?”

Sijur’s lips curved. “Do you want it to be? Would that make your conscience feel better? Knowing that you hadno choicebut to do it?”

It would.

He chuckled softly and placed a delicate hand on her cheek. She could feel the warm blood from his fingers streaking her face. “No, I will not order you to do it, but you will do it. Take this dagger and cut that man to pieces, Kolfinna. Slowly. First, his fingers, then his toes, and then … Well, I’ll let you decide which body part to take next. I recommend flaying the skin after that, but I’ll let you choose your method of violence.”

He pushed her forward and she tripped forward like a drunkard, unable to hold her balance. She fell to her knees in front of the fae male, her knees soaking in blood. He was still alive, his chest moving slowly, and those orange eyes were trained on her. Despite all the red that bathed him so brutally, those eyes were alight with fire.

Kolfinna’s breath rose and fell. Her hands shook, the tip of the dagger swaying in quick movements. She didn’t want to do any of this.

What could she do? Cut the man and call it a day? Torture him because she had no choice?

“Kolfinna.” Sijur’s voice came from behind her—close, too close.

Kolfinna looked at the other prisoners. They stared at her emotionlessly. She couldn’t get a read on them.

“Please,” she whispered to the man. “Just submit yourself to him.”

The man closed his eyes. “Never. Not even for you.”

She tightened her grip on the hilt. “Please! I don’t want to do this!”

The seconds ticked by and she inched the blade closer to him. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

“Lieutenant—” she began, but Sijur cut her off.

“Do it.”

“But—” She choked down a sob. “I can’t.”

“You can. Now cut him to pieces. His fingers first.”

Kolfinna brought the tip of the dagger to the man’s calloused, bound hands, but the blade wavered and she couldn’t bring herself to cut him. To chop him to pieces like Sijur wanted her to.

If she refused, what would Sijur do? Force her to do it through the rune mark? Punish her? Hurt her?

She would rather take that than this.

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