Page 32 of Of Shadow and Moon

The day I find the son of a bitch, and I will, he'll be begging for death long before I'm done. I'll tear him to pieces bit by bit, make him feel every ounce of the pain he has inflicted on her. No one hurts her. No one scars her and gets to walk away.

I take a shaky breath, the effort to keep quiet nearly unbearable. But gods help whoever is responsible, because their time is running out.

She's pulled almost immediately into a fitful sleep, her face contorting with whatever nightmares haunt her. Her body jerks and she begins to murmur, the words lost to the distance. She suddenly lets out a scream, a sound so raw, full of anguish, it rips through me.

I glance at the roommate but she is in deep sleep.

I get up without thinking and go to her side, my instincts prevailing over reason. I slip into bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling form.

She is so small, so vulnerable in this moment. I hold her tightly, whispering soothing words, hoping I reach her through her nightmare.

Gradually, her breathing starts to steady, and her muscles relax. She sags into me, her body molding to mine. I stay there, holding her close, my heart aching with a mix of emotions I couldn't fully understand.

There's something about her that tugs at the edges of my memory, something just out of reach. It's maddening,this obsession I have with her. I don't understand it, neither can I deny it.

As she settles into a deeper sleep, I take the opportunity to study her features. There's a softness there, a vulnerable place that she conceals from the rest of the world. It just makes me want to take care of her, to block whatever demonios who haunt her from getting into her dreams.

She stirs slightly, and I tighten my hold, afraid she might wake up and find me here. But she doesn't. Instead, she cuddles closer, seeking comfort even in her unconscious state. I know I should leave before she wakes, but I just can't bring myself to move. I stay with her until the first light of dawn filters through the window.

It is only then that I slip out from her bed, not waking her. I watch her for a moment longer, my heart heavy with conflicting emotions. Then I slip out of her room, disappearing into the shadows once more. As I make my way back to my own quarters, I can't stop thinking about her.

Selestina is… unlike anyone I’ve ever seen. Her hazel eyes seem to shift under the light, as if they hold secrets I’ll never understand, golden flecks catching and reflecting every glint. The defiance I see in them every time she talks to a prince or the roommate. The glare she gives back to everyone who whispers about her. The calculation she stores at every glance she takes.

She doesn’t try to draw attention, doesn’t need to. She simply exists, and it’s enough to steal the breath from my lungs. Her presence fills a room, commands it without a word, a kind of quiet power that radiates from her every step, every look. It’s in the way she walks, like she’s carrying her own private world with her.

She’s not someone to be tamed or claimed; she’s a force of nature, and I can’t seem to pull myself away.

As I slip back into my own bed, I can still feel the warmth of her body against mine, the softness of her skin. I close my eyes, replaying the moments we shared in my mind.

Chapter 19

Selestina

The dark of the cellar is suffocating, and the floor is chilled beneath my bare feet, the rough concrete lacerating my skin as I am forced to kneel. Dripping water echoes through the space, a soft hum of machinery somewhere in the distance. The metallic scent of blood and rust makes my stomach roil.

“Selestina,” he purrs, “I'm going to make you stronger. You will be able to take on anything. You are going to stand beside me, queen of my empire. You will know your place,” he growls, staring at me like his possession.

I shiver as he draws closer, his lips in a twisted smile. He reaches down and grabs my arm, yanking me to my feet. The chains around my wrists rattle, biting into my skin. The rough metal chafes, leaving raw, red marks. Alexander drags me to a makeshift table in the center of the room, forcing me to lie down. My heart is racing, and I try to squirm free, but his grip is ironclad.

“Stay still,” he says. “If you move, it will only get worse.”

I bite back a sob, my body trembling with fear. He starts tracing a blade along my arm, the sharp edge drawing a thinline of blood. The pain is immediate, a stinging sensation that travels up my arm and makes my eyes water. But this is just the beginning.

Alexander moves methodically, making little cuts all over my body. Every nick of the blade is planned and measured for maximum, excruciating pain, but without causing damage. My skin feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending screams in agony. Tears stream down my face, but I don’t utter a word. I know better.

“See?” Alexander asks, his voice almost soft. “You're learning. Pain is just weakness leaving the body. You will be strong.”

He lays the blade down, picking up a thin iron rod. He heats it above a nearby flame until the tip is red hot. I feel my breathing catch in my throat, understanding exactly what he intends to do with it. I try pulling on the chains, but they do not budge.

“It will hurt.” Alexander mentions nonchalantly. “But this is necessary.”

He presses the hot metal onto my skin, and the pain is unlike anything I have ever felt. It sears through me, a burning agony that makes my vision blur. The air fills with the scent of burning flesh, and I want to scream, to beg him to stop, but I bite into my lip until I taste blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“You're doing well,” Alexander says, his tone approving. “You're stronger than I thought.”

The torture is continuous, cuts, burns, and other methods of giving pain I could not fathom. He uses a thin whip to lash my back, each strike a throbbing or stinging welt. Holding my breath, he makes me do so until I am gasping for air, the world spins due to the lack of oxygen in my brain. He twists my limbs in painful positions to test my endurance.

I'm too tired, too broken, to even speak. He frees me from the chains, and I fall to the floor, unableeven to move.

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