Page 44 of Blood Beneath the Snow

He didn’t dignify me with a response. Instead, he turned to the shelves behind him and began pulling out containers, placing them on the table.

My anger surged again. He would leave me alive to be tortured and used for ransom. I swung my sword again, heaving with all my might.

The Hellbringer didn’t turn; he raised a gloved hand and caught my blade in his palm, clenching his fingers around the sharp edges. The connection of my weapon against his flesh resonated like a music note.

My eyes widened. Blood ran down the silver, tinging my reflection with red.

“Put your weapon away,” he said. “There will be no wars won here. Not tonight.”

With my breathing ragged and tears blurring my eyes, I let out a guttural scream raging with agony from somewhere deep in my chest. I wished I had a godtouch to end him on sight.

But I didn’t.

He shook his head. Gravity pulled my sword until the blade clanked against the floor. The Hellbringer gestured to the container he had placed on the table. “Eat.”

I didn’t bother to place my sword back in its sheath. There was no point. I released the hilt and left it to clatter, discarded. Silence throbbed through my mind, pain building behind my eyes.

Prisoner. I was a prisoner. There was no telling how long I would be here, kept in isolation.

The worst part was knowing the truth: no one was coming for me.

I moved to the table and glanced into the wooden box. It was full of nuts and berries I didn’t recognize. Maybe they were from Kryllian.

At a sound behind me, I turned. The Hellbringer was taking off his cloak to hang it on a set of hooks set into the stone. I watched him remove his sheath and sword, placing them on the hooks as well.

Without turning around, he peeled off his right glove, the blood-soaked fabric already drying. It surprised me to see pale white skin appear, drenched with thick red. Two long, gaping lines of flesh were scored across his palm. He gazed at the hand, flexing his fingers, as if he enjoyed the pain.

I hoped he hated every moment of it.

The cloak had masked his form. His shoulders were broad, but while he was strong, he was also wiry, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in several months.

He grabbed the corner of his cloak and wiped at the blood on his hand.

“You’ll want to have a healer look at that,” I muttered.

He turned back to face the wall, pulling his stained glove over his hand again. “Eat.”

“No.”

“Then be silent,” he growled, whirling to face me. “You are standing, all your limbs attached, because I decided it would be so. But be warned: Her Highness needs you alive, nothing more.”

I clenched my jaw.

But the anger melted from his tone when he spoke again. “If you wish to sleep, the bed is yours,” he said, gesturing to it.

I didn’t move. He walked over and took a seat at the table but didn’t eat; he simply stared at the crackling fire.

Despair made my hands shake. How long would I be here? What could the Queen of Kryllian possibly want with me? How much time did I have before they realized I was useless and got rid of me?

I shook my head. If they thought I had information, they were wrong—but I bore no disillusion that they would believe me. Torture was likely in my near future. Then death when they realized I was useless. Guess I wouldn’t have to worry about competing against my brothers after all.

I stormed to the bed and buried myself under the blankets. To my surprise, they were warmer than I’d imagined. The bed itself was comfortable, too. I hated how everything was designed to make me forget I was a prisoner.

Well, everything except the tall figure, clad in black, sitting stoic and silent at the table.

12

There was no morning lightto wake me, so I had no clue how long I’d slept. But when I sat up, the Hellbringer was in the same spot he’d been in when I fell asleep. The fire, however, was barely embers. Torches on the walls had been lit to make up for the missing light source.

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