Page 92 of Monsters Carve Thrones
I sighed heavily. “What’s Adela taught you in terms of combat?”
Laura blinked, then swallowed. “A few basic takedowns,” she said, voice steadier now. “Enough to flip someone over if they get too close. Especially if they underestimate me.”
A weak smile touched my lips. “That’s my good girl,” I murmured before I could stop myself. “Taking care of her best friend.” My chest ached. God, I missed her. Missed her fire andher stubbornness. Her sharp tongue and soft eyes. She was the only person in the world who’d ever made me want to be a better man–and now I was here, asking another woman to risk her life to get me back to her.
Laura exhaled slowly, brushing a hand over her hair. “Okay, Rafe.” She looked up at me, jaw firming. “What exactly do I need to do?”
***
The bitch had forced me to watch the video three more times in the past few days. She made sure that Adela’s sobs were ingrained in my fucking brain. I sighed into the silence, glancing over to see Kieran and Nico sleeping, and Laura was staring at the ceiling. I heard the boots before I saw them. They were heavy, fast, and without hesitation.
Great.
The door swung open and hit the wall so hard the echo cracked down my spine. I didn’t flinch. Just raised my eyes, already knowing what this was.
Three guards.
Big ones.
Grinning like they were about to have fun. I stayed seated, wrists chained behind me, my back already aching from the way I’d slept–if you could call it sleep. My skin still burned from the rawness left behind by the cuffs, and my body felt hollow. Like I was just meat hanging from a hook, waiting for the butcher.
The one in front cracked his knuckles. “Morning, pretty boy.”
I didn’t answer. Beside me, Laura stirred against the wall. Her hands clenched into fists. She didn’t speak either. But I saw the fear bloom in her eyes when two of the guards lookedher way–eyes crawling over her body like maggots. One of them licked his lips.
“Leave her,” said the tallest. “Orders were to makehimregret breathing. That’s it.”
They laughed. Like it was a joke. Like it was all some game.
I dropped my head and let them come. Because I’d already made my decision last night–watching that screen, listening to Adela cry while that monster raped her.
I stared at them with dead eyes, daring them to do their worst. The first punch split my cheek. The second cracked against my ribs. I didn’t scream or curse. No, I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. I stayed silent through all of it. Through the fists and the boots and the elbow that smashed across my jaw. One of them grabbed my hair and slammed my head back against the stone wall behind me. Stars burst behind my eyes, blood rushing down into my mouth. My own heartbeat throbbed inside my teeth.
But I didn’t speak or move or beg. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling above me on the cracked corner where a spider’s web trembled in the cold air. That little web had survived this place.
So would I.
They kept going. Kicks to my stomach. A baton to the shoulder. One of them laughed when I spit blood onto his boot. “Still think you’re getting out of here alive?” he asked, dragging the baton along my collarbone. I turned my head, met his gaze, and smiled. He didn’t like that.Good.
One final punch to my gut, and they were done.
“Let the bitch clean him up,” one muttered, nodding to Laura before they turned and walked out, still laughing. “You’re lucky Waleria gave strict orders, babycakes. We’d love to rough you up, too.”
She winced, but glared.
The door slammed behind them, leaving us in a heavy and painful silence. My chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven gasps. My face throbbed. My ribs ached with every breath. Blood soaked the collar of my shirt, sticky and warm. I let my head fall forward again, tasting iron and fire and fury.
***
It had been a day since we solidified the plan. Just one day of pretending to sleep, of holding in the shakes, of waiting for the perfect fracture in the pattern. My body was so goddamn sore from the beating, and being covered in bruises and blood was becoming very, very fucking old.
Laura had said she was ready...but she didn’t look ready. Her hands trembled subtly at her sides, even as she rolled her shoulders and stared hard at the door. But I didn’t fault her for that. Fear was a survival instinct. And she was still here. That counted for everything.
I leaned toward her as much as the chains would allow, my voice low enough that only she could hear it. “Remember what we discussed.”
She turned to me, blue eyes flickering with nerves and determination. Then she gave a single nod. One deep breath. Her spine straightened. I could see her slipping into the role.God, I was so fucking proud of her.
The door creaked open.
