Page 150 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

It hadn’t taken Brynleigh long to realize the other woman was a powerful witch. Emilia’s magic was blue, tinted with strands of black, and it felt wrong as it danced over Brynleigh’s skin. It wasn’t until the magic sank into her that the real torture began, though. One moment, Brynleigh was on fire. The next, she was ice.

It was more than physical discomfort. More than pain.

Emilia played with Brynleigh’s mind, sending her image after image of death and destruction until it was the only thing she could see. The only thing she felt. There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t feel broken.

Every day, they came and played and tortured her.

Every day, she bled and screamed.

Every day, she refused to speak.

And every day, without fail, she grew weaker and weaker. Brynleigh needed blood. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would last without it.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

The trio had all but confirmed Ryker’s death. Jelisette had abandoned her. Zanri, too. Brynleigh assumed there wasn’t anyone else who even cared about her. Not really. Hallie was her friend, but what could the Fortune Elf do?

Upon reflection, Brynleigh realized she’d been the perfect pawn in Jelisette’s game. She had no family, no friends, and no connection to anyone.

She’d been played.

Every time her heart throbbed, it sent pulses of anger, betrayal, and grief through her.

She grieved for Ryker, for their love, and for the life they could have led. She mourned what they had and wished there was something else she could have done. That grief would remain with her for the rest of what would likely be a very short life.

But the rest of it? The hurt at Zanri’s betrayal? The shock that Jelisette wasn’t coming to save her?

It was gone. It had vanished around the same moment Victor used her thighs as pincushions, stabbing several silver-tipped daggers into them and leaving them there while Brynleigh screamed.

Now she was fucking furious.

If she ever got out of here, she would destroy her Maker. Brynleigh considered herself to be a somewhat intelligent woman, but Jelisette had completely fooled her.

Brynleigh spent every moment she wasn’t being tortured rethinking the past six years. She studied each interaction through a new lens. Jelisette had used Brynleigh and then discarded her like a piece of garbage.

Fuck her.

Brynleigh stared at the door, fists clenched, and waited for it to open.

She wouldn’t talk. Not today. Not tomorrow.

Not ever.

CHAPTER 37

Questions and Answers

“I’ll admit, I never expected you to last this long.” Victor tapped the flat end of his blade on Brynleigh’s bloody thigh, where another silver dagger was embedded in her flesh.

She breathed through her teeth, her nostrils flaring as a stab of pain ran through her. She was back in the chair, enduring another session of torture.

Don’t cry out, she told herself.

Today was worse than yesterday. Every day was worse than the one before. She thought three weeks had passed, but she couldn’t be sure.

Brynleigh was so hungry. Her stomach was a hollow void. She barely recalled what it felt like to feed. Her skin was shrinking in on itself. Her fangs were burning. It was getting harder and harder to remember why she wasn’t talking.

Victor rocked back on his heels, his evil gaze studying her shrewdly. “Yes, I definitely underestimated you.” He pursed his lips. “Or maybe we haven’t given you the right incentive to speak.”

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