Page 74 of Dark Elves of Ardani

The broom handle came down. And down. And down. Over and over.

Her limbs went numb after a while. She felt certain that he was breaking her this time. She curled up and covered her face and head and neck, but that left the rest of her body open and vulnerable to his attacks.

She heard boots scraping the ground as he moved closer, and a shadow obscured her vision as he crouched beside her. She felt his hand clamp on the back of her neck, and he shoved her face into the dirt. She squirmed against his grasp, but every movement was torture.

He leaned close to her ear and spoke quietly enough to keep his words from the rest of the onlookers. “Youare pathetic,” he hissed. “Youare nothing. If I had not rescued you from those monsters, you’d still be a slave. You’d be nothing without me, you stupid woman. You should be thanking me for all I’ve done for you. Look at yourself. You can do nothing. Everyone despises you. I could kill you, and none of them would stop me. I am the only one here who still wants to help you.” He paused, lowering his voice even more, his lips almost touching her ear. “I know that traveler you’re so worried about was a spy for the night elves, just like you. Who else would be traveling alone in the middle of the night? Everyone would be grateful to me for killing her, if they knew.” He shoved her one last time, and she winced. “Think again before you speak to me like that.”

Zara listened to his footsteps fade as he stalked away. She didn’t move. It hurt less when she remained still.

She had almost forgotten what it was like to feel this helpless. For a few short weeks, she had almost thought that she would never have to feel this way again.

It didn’t matter that she had changed. She was a different person now, but the world had remained the same. And the world was cruel.

* * *

She didn’t get up again.

Eventually, the sun set. But sleep eluded her. Hours passed in a haze of cold and pain and darkness. The rough ropes on her wrists had scratched into her skin. The broomstick had beaten bruises and welts into her flesh and into her very bones. Theron’s gauntlet had left cuts on her face. Every part of her ached.

She was a mess. Maybe Theron was right. She was pathetic.

Perhaps she should just do as he said. What did it matter anymore?

* * *

Late in the night,she heard boots shuffling on the ground. At first, she thought it was only her guards pacing with boredom, but when the shuffling was followed by a metallic crash, she lifted her leaden eyelids.

One of the guards was on the ground, not moving. In the light of the torch he’d dropped, Zara could see the neat slash across his throat that was still bleeding freely. A shadow moved in the dark, and there was a strangled sound just before the other guard fell, bleeding from his throat. Zara stared at them.

The shadow shifted. It flickered, and then Nero was kneeling in front of her.

It seemed to be the first good look he’d gotten at her, because his eyes sharpened as they tracked over her face and hands, taking in her injuries. Something inside her chest crumpled, both with humiliation and relief.

He cut through the ropes at her wrists. Zara’s arms ached in all the places the broomstick had hit her, but she was able to push herself up off the ground. But when she tried to stand, pain peaked in her knees and shins and thighs, and her legs gave out under her.

Nero quickly leaned down and picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other around her back. Zara felt his fade covering them both, and then they were moving away from the well at a rapid pace. Dark shapes of trees and houses passed as he walked. When they were outside the village, he put her on her feet, letting her hold on to him for balance. He kept an arm around her shoulders.

She was shaking slightly.

She really was helpless. She had escaped Kuda Varai, but that place had been only one of many horrors in the world. There was nothing stopping anyone from hurting her again. The escape had been an illusion. She would never be safe. She would never really be free.

She gave a sudden, hoarse sob that shook her whole body. Tears welled in her eyes and dripped down her face. She hadn’t shed a tear for the entire time Theron had kept her prisoner, but now they came forth in a rush, as if they’d been building up all this time.

Nero pulled her against him, and she clung to him. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, even though they both knew it wasn’t.

Nothing good had ever come of letting someone get this close to her. It was as if the mere act of turning to another person for comfort was karmically tainted. Whenever she had the courage to trust someone, she ended up hurt. It was the way it always was. Her mothers had tried to warn her, and she hadn’t wanted to believe them, and she’d faced consequences because of it.

But this time, she let go. She let go of everything. She let him hold her. She let herself lean into him and cry into his shoulder.

His arms wrapped tightly around her. He hugged her like he was afraid to let go. He bowed his head into the crook of her neck and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. He brushed his hands over her hair.

He did not make her feel weak for needing someone. In fact, it almost felt like he needed her just as much.

There was a shout from the village. Zara looked up, and through bleary eyes she could see Paladins carrying lights along the path far below them. The dead guards had been found.

“We have to go,” Nero said softly. There was a sound like a hoof scraping the ground, and she realized they were standing beside Changa. He helped her climb into the saddle, then hopped up behind her. As they started away from the village, he put an arm around Zara’s waist, pulling her against him. “You’re safe with me. I promise.”

Changa walked long into the night. At some point, the warmth of Nero’s body lulled her to sleep.

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