Page 77 of Realm of Wind and Vines
The others whip around to stare at me, but I can barely see them because the room around me sways when another burst of pain slams into my chest through the mate bond. Panic and rage sear through me.
Pushing up from the table, I shove my chair back so hard that it topples over. Wooden clattering fills the meeting room behind me as the chair hits the floor, but I’m already running. My feetpound against the dark blue carpets as I race through the castle and towards the dungeons.
Pain stabs through the mate bond over and over again.
I throw myself down the stairs to the dungeon.
My heart leaps into my throat when I find the Unseelie fae who were supposed to be guarding Bane lying unconscious on the dark stone floor. Sprinting the final distance, I burst into Bane’s cell.
Isera doesn’t even turn to look at me. She just rams her shard of ice into Bane’s thigh again.
Bane, who is still shackled to the metal chair and drugged with a potion from Haldia so that he won’t be able to focus enough to access his magic, hisses in pain but then tilts his chin back and laughs up into Isera’s face.
“Keep going, little slave,” he taunts, his voice slightly slurred due to his drugged state. “When we win this war, I will pay you back for every stab.”
Isera just slams her ice shard into his thigh again and twists it.
A gasp of pain rips from his throat, and his eyes slide in and out of focus from the agony and the drugs.
Another spike of pain hits my chest through the mate bond.
“Stop!” I scream at Isera. “She’s taking it out on Draven.”
She just stabs him again.
He throws his head back and gasps before letting out a maniacal laugh. “Did I tell you that I made your mother crawl naked through our entire throne room while my whole court watched and laughed and kicked her as she crawled past on her hands and knees?”
Dark fury explodes across Isera’s face. Yanking the shard of ice from his thigh, she swings it towards his throat. I throw myself forward. With a scream of panic, I barely manage to grab her wrist before her shard of ice can hit his skin.
“Stop!” I yell at her again.
Standing right next to her, I tighten my grip on her wrist. Myheart pounds like a battle drum, and my chest is heaving from the long run across the castle and the sheer panic inside me. In the chair, Bane just lets out another vicious laugh.
“After we win, I will do the same to you,” he says, his cruel eyes locked on Isera. “But I think I’ll break your legs first, so that it will take you even longer to crawl through the whole room.”
“Every time you hurt him, Jessina hurts Draven,” I snap at Isera before she can retort. “So back the fuck off.”
She just keeps her utterly merciless eyes on Bane. I tighten my grip on her wrist to stop her from trying to slit his throat. She simply dismisses the shard of ice from that hand and summons it in her free hand instead.
A cry of desperation rips from my throat when she rams that shard into Bane’s other thigh and twists it hard.
Another blast of pain hits me through the mate bond.
I yank out my dagger and place it against Isera’s throat. Threats drip from my voice as I growl, “Stop.”
She doesn’t even look at me. Her cold eyes remain solely focused on Bane, who is gasping and laughing like a maniac again.
“If you want me to stop, you’d better be prepared to use that,” Isera at last replies, and flicks a detached glance down at the blade I’m holding to her throat.
Her voice is so cold that I swear I can see frost crackling through the air around her when she speaks.
“This man tortured my mother for a hundred and fifty years before he killed her,” she continues, that freezing hatred lacing her voice like ice. “This might be my only chance at revenge. I’m taking it.”
Yanking out her ice shard, she rams it through Orion’s shoulder instead. He gasps in pain, and his head lolls to the side while his eyes slide in and out of focus.
“I’ve already told you,” Isera continues. “I hate them more than I care about you and much more than I care about my ownlife. So if you’re going to kill me, kill me. I will continue torturing him regardless.”
A shockingly large part of me almost does it. Almost slits my friend’s throat. The realization of it stuns me so much that I actually stumble a step back, lowering my knife.
