Page 4 of The Magic of Eternity
Even as I lay there, not breathing, all I could feel was pure, unfettered rage. I was going to kill all of these motherfuckers. Just when I thought I was going to pass out from lack of air, a vision of me making all of these bastard’s brains go boom drifted behind my eyelids and holy fuck, my cock actually stirred.I’m sicker than I thought.
Up again. This time, I spat a mouthful of water right in Don’s eyes. That was his name.What a stupid fucking name.But oh, how enraged he became by my defiance and lack of fear. That’s the thing. Once you’ve died, there’s not much left to be worried about. I’d already experienced that. It was horrible, but I got a second chance.
Don wiped his hand over his face in disgust, flinging my spit off his hand with a sharp downward motion. He gave me a predatory smile that, in hindsight, probably should’ve been alarming. I’d been down here for so long though, I was out of fucks to give.
“I’ll be back later. Then we’ll talk. I promise you that, mage,” he threatened, turning his back on me to leave the room. And so I wasn’t prepared when he quickly turned back and swung a fist at me so hard I felt the inside of my cheek filling with blood. The chair toppled, and I was left groaning in an inch-deep puddle of water from our torture sessions.
From there, it could’ve been minutes, hours, days, weeks? I had no idea, but I was losing my sense of time. There was no light. Pitch black. My arms were screaming from being in the same position for so long. I’d been barely coherent when Asrael’s men had tossed me on that wagon with the others. But coherent enough to know that Faris never got on the wagon. Nobody would tell me a thing about the state of my brothers. Or Saige. Or my daughters.
They’d separated us from the get-go. Probably smart on their part. More mind fuckery, not knowing if the others were suffering the same treatment or if they had already been put out of their misery. My jaw clenched. No. I couldn’t think like that. I refused to believe that I’d lost any of them. Except for maybe one.
Sloane.
My dragon.
My poor, tortured man. He was under Asrael’s spell once more, and my heart broke every single time I thought about how he might be being used. How he would feel out of control in his own mind. With my own affinity, I knew that fate was sometimes—nearly always—worse than death itself. Not being able to trust yourself, or know whether your thoughts were your own, or if your trauma had grown a body of its own and snatched yours. Like a possession. Only this kind was worse because it wasn’t your routine PTSD, no. Asrael was exerting some kind of control over Sloane in conjunction with the trauma he’d already inflicted upon him in that lab.
I should’ve taken his memories without his consent. The thought twisted my stomach. I’d always sworn I’d never do such a thing—though I already had, which sickened me. Not that long ago, I’d taken all of their memories when I gave my life for theirs.
But we needed Sloane. The first chance I got, I was taking that trauma from his mind, letting those horrible visions slip away into the ether of my subspace because they had no business even being in existence.
A door creaked, pulling my focus from my internal thoughts. Footsteps crept across the ground as the person approached me. My chair was righted, and I groaned deeply as my head swam from the sudden change in position. I blinked several times, trying to get my vision to clear. The room was still dark, but the person had left the door cracked so it provided a tiny amount of visibility.
Someone’s hand landed on my thigh, and I tried to jerk away from their unwanted touch. “Fischer,” he whispered, and I actually whimpered.
Did I just imagine that?
“Look at me, baby.”
Glancing up, his face came into focus and a harsh sob exploded from my chest. “Sloane. Oh gods. Oh gods,” I breathed.
His large hand cupped my cheek—the one Don had smashed, and I hissed from the pain. “Let me see.” He turned my face slightly so he could look at my face.
“I’m okay. Sloane, untie me. We need to get out of here now. Have you heard anything about the others? Saige? Is she okay?” The questions were flying from my mouth and I couldn’t slow down. I was desperate for information. Any information. He shook his head. “What does that mean? You can’t just shake your head!”
“I’m sorry. I haven’t heard anything. I snuck in here to see you. I had to see you,” he said softly. “I can’t stay long.”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean? We need to go. Now, Sloane. Untie me.”
“I can’t. It’ll be worse if I do,” he whispered into the dimly lit space. Shadows danced over his face.
I swallowed roughly. I knew he was fucked up. His mind wasn’t his own, but I needed him to come back to me. Right now. “Hey. Have you seen any of the others? Heard anything at all? It’s making me insane, not knowing.”
“I haven’t seen anyone in weeks.” His hands drifted up my thighs slowly. “I miss you.”
“Sloane, focus. I love you. I miss you so much it hurts me, baby. But we can’t stay here in this room. They want to know about Faris. How I’m still alive and how he came to be. I haven’t told them anything, but I’m worried that if I don’t give them something soon, they’re going to turn to more drastic measures. I can’t help us if I’m stuck here. Untie me,” I pleaded.
“Let me make you feel good, if only for this moment,” he replied, reaching into my waistband and palming my soft cock. Nausea swirled as he gripped my shaft, tugging at me.
“No. Sloane, stop. I don’t— Fuck!” My words died on my tongue when he took me into his mouth. Tears welled because I hadn’t felt any kind of touch that wasn’t harmful in who knows how long. And here was my man, giving me a connection to my humanity. But I didn’t want it. Not only was I filthy, but this wasn’t the time.
I groaned as his tongue swirled. “Please, stop.”
He didn’t. He continued licking me with the fervor of a man possessed.Why isn’t he stopping?It was like he was in another world, lost to me.
“Inferno,” I whispered.
“It’s okay, pet. Just take it,” he murmured around the tip of my dick, and my heart picked up speed. Sloane would never ignore my safe word. He’d also told me I wasn’t his ‘pet’ anymore, either.
