Page 40 of The Brute and the Blade

"Varkos," I rasp, my tongue thick in my dry mouth. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but...your hospitality needs work."

He chuckles, mirthless. "Still so proud," he muses. "Still so defiant, even in defeat. One would think you'd have learned by now, Lily...that there's no place for pride in the face of raw power."

"You call this power?" I spit, rattling my manacles. "Ambushing an unarmed woman, beating her senseless? That's not power, Varkos. That's cowardice."

His eyes flash, his jaw clenching. "Unarmed?" he scoffs. "Hardly. You're never unarmed, Red Blade. Your body is a weapon, honed and hard...and treacherous."

He crouches down, his face inches from mine. "But don't worry," he purrs, his breath hot and sour. "I'll tame that fiery spirit. I'll break you and savor every scream."

Bile rises in my throat, fear and fury a tangle in my gut. But I won't let him see it, won't give him the satisfaction.

"You'll try," I hiss through gritted teeth. "And you'll fail. Because I may bend, Varkos...but I'll never break. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Except Grok, a traitorous voice whispers in my mind. You'd break for him, wouldn't you? Bend and bow and beg for one more taste, one more touch...

I shove the thought down savagely, disgusted with my own weakness. Focus, damn it. Focus on the monster in front of you, not the brute, the beloved who haunts your dreams, your daylight. Who broke you, long before Varkos ever laid hands on you.

Broke you and remade you. Forged you anew in the fire, the ferocity of his passion, his possession...

I wrench my mind back to the present with a snarl, meeting Varkos's cold gaze head-on.

"Do your worst," I rasp, baring my teeth in a feral grin. "But know this, my lord...I'll fight you every step, stymie you at every turn. You want my secrets, my submission? You'll have to earn them. With blood and brutality and the bitter dregs of your black soul, if you even have one."

He laughs at that, a short, sharp bark. "Oh, I have a soul, Lily," he says softly. "A dark one, to be sure, but no darker than yours, I'd wager. No darker than the beast, the barbarian who stole your virtue, your valor."

I go still, my heart stuttering. "What are you talking about?" I whisper, my mouth gone dry.

Varkos smiles, slow and savage. "Did you think I wouldn't know?" he murmurs. "Wouldn't hear the whispers, the rumors of the Red Blade rutting with the warlord of of the Borderlands, the ogre king of the western wilds?"

He makes a tutting sound, mocking and mean. "For shame, Lily. Spreading your legs for the enemy, sheathing his sword inside you when you should have been sliding steel between his ribs, slitting his throat as he slept."

I feel the blood drain from my face, horror and humiliation churning in my gut. He knows, I think dimly, dazedly. Gods help me, he knows...

"It's not...it wasn't like that," I rasp, my voice thin. "I didn't...I wasn't..."

"What?" Varkos cuts me off. "Wasn't a willing participant? Just a helpless captive, a slave to his lusts?"

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't insult my intelligence, Lily. You wanted it. Wanted him in all his savage glory, all his untamed hunger."

He leans in again, his voice dropping to a sinister purr. "Wanted him like you'll soon want me. Need me, even as I break you, buckle you to my will."

My gorge rises, revulsion and dread a noose around my neck. "Never," I grit out. "I'll never want you, Varkos. Never submit to you, no matter what you do to me. No matter how you hurt me."

"We shall see," he says softly. Straightening, he turns to leave, tossing a final, awful smile over his shoulder.

"Rest up, Red Blade," he calls mockingly. "You'll need your strength for all the screaming you'll be doing. All the singing as I play your body like an instrument, pluck its secrets from your shattered soul."

And with that, he's gone, the cell door slamming shut behind him with a clang of finality.

I slump back against the stone, shaking, my breath coming in sharp gasps. Gods, I think despairingly. Gods, what do I do? How do I endure this nightmare with no hope, no help in sight? No hero coming to save me from my own failures?

But even as the black dread threatens to overwhelm me, I feel it. A flicker, a flame deep in my breast.

A kernel of strength, of surety that even Varkos cannot touch, cannot tarnish.

Because he gave it to me. Grok gave it to me with every touch, every taste. Every scorching claim of his body on mine, in mine, around mine.

He changed me, charged me with a fire that no chains can contain, no tortures tame. A love, a longing that transcends pain and fear, danger and doubt.

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