Page 24 of Shackled to the World
“You’re right.” Camden shook his head, a shutter falling over his face. He stared down at her, once more completely analytical, and she hated the distance between them.
She reached up, running her palm lightly along his jaw. He flinched at the contact, watching her for a second before leaning into her touch.
“I’m not hurting you.” The awe in his voice nearly broke her heart. To go through life and never be able to touch or be touched by anyone was a different kind of torture than fists and words, but just as effective at destroying a person.
“Of course not.” She rolled her eyes at the absurdity. “You would never hurt me.” She settled against him once again, resting her face against his chest, feeling her body relax for the first time in a week. “I haven’t been sleeping much. After watching them torture Logan, every time I close my eyes…” She took a shuddering breath. “I can’t force myself to get back into bed. But now I know it was real…”
Rage burned through her like an inferno. She tightened her fingers into a fist, feeling her nails dig into her skin deep enough to draw blood, but the pain did nothing to dull her fury.
She’d lived with her uncle for years, even had a chance to kill him, but ran like a coward.
And now Logan was paying the price.
If she had a chance to do it all over again, she’d kill that man in a heartbeat. It didn’t matter that she would’ve likely died in the process, she would take the chance if it meant the guys would be safe.
Camden gingerly settled his hand on her hip, pulling her mind away from the nightmare of her thoughts. He slid his palm upward until his fingers rested against bare flesh at her waist, effectively distracting her. His breath stalled in his chest, his body stiff beneath her, as if he was waiting for a rejection.
She placed her hand on his chest and slid it up until her fingertips rested against the pulse in his neck. The furious beating relaxed her, and she mentally counted each thump. “Don’t let me drown in the nightmares.”
She lasted no more than thirty seconds before sleep claimed her.
“Never.” He kissed her brow, his murmured words the last thing she heard.
* * *
Annora wasn’t sure what to expect, but finding Logan huddled on the cement floor was a relief. He wasn’t strapped to a table, his chest ripped open for her to watch his organs move and struggle to survive. Her uncle wasn’t hovering over him with a maniacal grin and sharp blades.
But her relief was short-lived. He curled into a tighter ball, keeping his back to her, as if sensing her presence. “You shouldn’t have come. I told you not to come again.”
His voice was hoarse and broken from too much screaming.
She knew the signs well enough.
Annora snorted at his comment and dropped to her knees at his side. “You should know by now that I rarely do as I’m told.”
His huffed laugh was quickly cut off when he seemed to fold into himself. She touched his arm gently, almost afraid of what she would see. Her lungs stalled when she caught her first sight of him. His face was almost unrecognizable under all the blood. Hundreds of cuts and bruises and massive swelling distorted his features, and her heart slowly shredded, threatening to choke her.
Thick chains were cuffed around his arms, shackling him to the floor. The wounds around his wrists were so raw, bone gleamed through the meaty mess of what was left of his flesh, as if he was seconds away from gnawing off his own hands to be free. Blood continued to drip on the floor in an ever-widening puddle.
Acid curdled her stomach.
He’d given up hope.
His black hair was limp, the bright red tips dulled. While he was normally slim, now his bones poked against his skin, his body all angles and sharp edges. His clothes were stained and matted, sticking to his skin, and she knew he must be severely injured if he was still bleeding. The floor was more of a stained concrete…easier to disguise the blood when they had visitors.
Surprisingly, when people came to purchase your services, they didn’t like to see signs of torture. They liked things nice and tidy. Knowing was one thing, but seeing the results was too much for their delicate sensibilities.
Not that any of the clients would have tried to help and rescue her—but because her value decreased if the client was distressed by all the blood and injuries.
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “You think my uncle could be a little more original in his torture. How many cuts did he make before he gave up? I reached over three hundred before he got frustrated and slit my throat.”
“Jesus.” They both turned at the sound of Camden’s voice.
“What the hell?!” Annora blinked at him in surprise. “You were able to follow me.”
Instead of replying, he knelt next to Logan and carefully touched his hand to the back of the kitsune’s neck.
Logan blinked, as if in shock, then reached out and locked his hand around Camden’s wrist. “You’re real?” His eyes quickly latched onto hers and tears flooded his eyes. “The dreams are real? You’re not just in my head?”
