Page 122 of Wrath of the Fae

‘He is not your king!’ I insist.

Jonah panics and pushes himself away from them. Before I can tell them anything more, he slams his fist in my face.

‘Kill her!’ orders a soldier, and I hear a chorus of swords unsheathing.

‘NO!’ demands Jonah, and they hold their position. ‘We need her to restart the portals.’

He orders me to be gagged and the hood to be returned.

He can’t touch the hood. They will see he has no reaction to it. They’ll know he’s human.

I’m gagged and lost in the chainmail again, my eyes heavy and the grotesque taste of his eye and blood lingering on my tongue.

He spins me so I face the small window with iron bars.

‘I’ll leave you with a view,’ he hisses. His entire body trembles with rage, and blood falls aplenty down his cheek. ‘You won’t die. But you will wish to. You will beg for it. I know how much you hate seeing those you love suffer. Call me when you’re ready to talk, and I will let her go free.’

He leaves the room. The door groans as it closes, struggling against its weight. And with a click, I’m locked in.

Lifting my gaze, I see the view he was referring to. There is a large pole in the courtyard beyond.

Halfway up on a little ledge, El is being tied to it with iron chains. She yells insults and threats, furiously tugging against her restraints. Her naked body is badly bruised, and she’s bleeding from multiple cuts.

But she doesn’t let that slow her down as she spits and struggles.

They toss buckets of what looks like ground-up meat and blood on her body and leave her there, warning those in the court watching that this is what lies ahead for traitors. For those who refuse to follow the law.

No one else comes to my cell.

The sun sets, and rain begins to fall hard and fast. Lightning begins to streak across the sky, and thunder rumbles all around.

I remain hanging from the wall. El remains tethered to the pole.

They place torches around her so I can still see her. In the dark, strange birds and rodents start to circle her. The birds peck. The rodents bite. She struggles and shouts, and they scatter after each taste they get. But they always come back.

I tug against the chain but can’t get free.

Rats bite my feet and attempt to climb my legs. I kick them away, making them angry and attack even more.

The sun rises. Still, we remain.

No water. No food.

I watch her with heavy blinks and tired eyes. She shuffles and maybe lets out the odd threat to any who might hear. But I know she’s hurting. She’s as hungry and thirsty as I am. And chunks are missing from her legs and arms where the creatures attacked her in the dark.

Where are they? Where are Reid and Cyrus? Why haven’t they come?

Either they’re dead, captured, or have no idea what’s happened.

Lucca and the others will come soon. I can last. El can last.

I repeat those words in my head over and over. I’ll be freed of the iron, and then I’ll be free to see all I need to see.

All Jonah has seen through the truth of the eye I took.

The door opens. I have no strength to turn and look. I ready myself for whatever horror Jonah has planned, but only water comes. A guard stands beside me as a human slave lifts my hood, lowers my gag and offers me water. It’s sweet and smells a little of citrus. From my first gulp, I feel it rush through me and offer a hint of strength, and I take it in as quickly as I can.

‘That’s enough,’ the guard says to him.

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