Page 53 of Wings of Lies
“Eat your damned food!” my jailor yelled, taking one step closer.
“Gladly!” I screamed back but lost my bravado when his eyes erupted in blue flame.
“Scream at me again, and I’ll dump you and your food into the fire!”
Frozen, I stared.What the hell was that?
“Eat!”
I stepped back from the ferocity of his voice, no longer craving to test him.What in my right mind made me want to in the first place?He had flames for eyes. He was corded in muscle and wore a sword and daggers on his hip that couldn’t possibly be for show.And I had what?Ice and flames when I was emotional?Powers that the cuffs now blocked unless I felt like electrocuting myself.
My shoulders slumped as I turned. His one step closer barely gave me enough slack to touch the plate with my fingertips. After wiggling it into my palm, I stood and gazed at the rubbery thighs. Bits of white fuzz speckled the meat. Despite their gross state, my fingers trembled from holding back. My hunger was a needy, depraved thing.
“Is it drugged?”
“No,” he said at the same time Brock said, “Maybe.”
Believing the princely jailor, I jerked my chained wrist, latched onto the bony meat, and devoured every morsel. Cooled juices slid down the sides of my cheeks, and I ended up wiping them with my bare arm.
“Cacus and Bael have better manners than you do,” Brock said, lip lifting in disgust.
I found that doubtful and flipped him off. “Go to hell.”
In less than a second, something swiped at my feet, and I fell onto my back, bones and plate flying from my hand while the other dangled in the air.
“Insult me again, and we can have some fun,” Brock said, stepping on my wrist. Without his full weight, it wasn’t too bad. Until he put more weight into the step, then pivoted back and forth, grinding my bones together. My gasps turned into whimpers. “Would you like that?”
“No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t,” I begged.
“That’s enough, Brock.”
Brock jerked his head up, shot my princely jailor a scowl, and then glanced down at me disgusted. “Glad we understand each other.” He pressed harder, giving me his last punishing pivot. I cried out, and my princely jailor shoved Brock off me.
“I said stop!”
But he couldn’t get Brock off me fast enough. Agony slammed into my wrist, and it snapped.
I bit my lips hard, muffling the wail, as Brock stalked off.
Tears trailed silently down my cheeks as I lay on the ground, refusing to move. My dangling arm lowered. The chain jangled, and with a soft chink and snap, my unbroken wrist flopped to the ground, heavier.
“You should have never come through that portal.”
I twisted my head to meet his glowing eyes. Rage, unlike any I’d ever seen, twisted his princely face.
And I—weak, alone, broken—agreed.
Chapter
Fifteen
After a terrible night’s sleep, icy water jolted me awake, splashing over my face and soaking my shirt. I gasped, coughed on the water that went up my nose and looked wildly around. My princely jailor stood over me with a large bucket in hand as I sat on a pad with soppy blankets.
“What the hell was that for?” I shouted in between coughs, goosebumps growing goosebumps as the morning chill brushed against my skin.
His eyes were alight with satisfaction as he pressed his lips together.
Invisible fingers strummed two cords in my core.
