Page 33 of Chaos Unleashed

Grey shrugs but looks just as confused as the rest of us, “I don’t think so. I’m not sure that had anything to do with us.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Khaos replies as he picks up a few more things, and we all head out of the door.

I wait until we’re back on our horses and heading out of town before I ask, “What do you mean by we’ll know soon enough?”

Khaos glances back at me confused before the realisation seems to kick in and he says, “Oh, it's pretty simple, if Monty has a problem with us then we’re going to know about it. He’s not one for being subtle.”

“Oh,” I reply, “Well, that sounds like it's not going to be fun.”

“It won’t, hopefully, Grey is right though and it has nothing to do with us,” Khaos replies, stumbling over Grey’s name.

“Let’s get to the first camp that we had planned, then we can look over the map that Monty gave us. I think we’re going to need all the rest we can get while we can get it,” Storm suggests.

“I still want to get going as early as possible,” I can’t help but reply. I’m worried.

Worried isn’t a strong enough word. I’m fucking terrified, I’m absolutely distraught, she means everything to me, and she’s in danger, in pain, and there’s a real chance that she’s not going to fucking survive, and the way that my mind turns dark at the thought fucking scares me, I don’t think even I want to know what I’m going to do if we don’t find Farren or if we find Farren and she’s not okay. I do know that I will rip the people that hurt her apart, limb from fucking limb, piece by piece, until there is nothing but a bloody mess left. Even then, I know that it won’t be enough; nothing will ever be enough to avenge her.

“Loki, are you okay?” Storm says, and from the way he’s looking at me with concern, it's not the first time that he’s asked me.

I clear my throat, I’m unable to put the happy go lucky facade on like I usually do when I’m feeling something dark, that scares me.

“I’m as well as any of us are, given the circumstances,” I reply honestly.

Looks of understanding cross everyone’s faces. We’re putting on a good show, pretending we’re okay and that we’re handling the fact that she’s been taken, but we’re not.

If you really look at us, you’d be able to tell, even without knowing us, that we’re far from okay. Mayhem has withdrawn into himself. Rival is showing his anger in more obvious ways, like his over the top reactions when tools inevitably break.

Kill and Storm are beating the shit out of each other on a regular basis and calling it training when really we all see it for what it is, a release of all their pent-up frustration, anger, and fear. The brothers were always bad at dealing with their emotions, although I’m clearly not someone who can judge.

Reaper, perhaps the most concerning, is partially transformed constantly. I wasn’t even aware that he had enough power to do that. I mean, it takes an incredible amount of power to stay transformed, but he’s holding it without a second thought. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that it’s even more impressive because he’s holding back Ryu, he’s holding back a humongous fucking dragon, who is pissed as fuck and want’s to rampage because his mate has been taken.

I do not doubt that Farren is Ryu’s mate. Dragons never get it wrong; I’m just unsure what that means for the rest of us.

Grey is quiet, and his fuse is incredibly short. I think we’re all grateful that he’s aware that he has to keep his presence under wraps; otherwise, he’d be flinging god-level power around everywhere.

“I think the first rest area is just up ahead,” Zev says.

Farren

I’m fading.

I don’t know how long I have left, but it’s not long. It’s not a case of I may not have long left; I know I’m going to die soon. It’s just how soon it’s going to be until I take my last breath. I keep fading in and out of consciousness. I have no idea if Xerxes is still here, but I hope he isn’t; I hope whatever magic brought him here has taken him away since it's evident that I’m a lost cause and not going to last much longer. I hope he goes back to the guys, tells them how much they mean to me, and lies about how much I suffered. I hope they never find out, I hope they think it was over quickly. I hope Xerxes tells them that.

The Princes have upped their game, determined to get information out of me, information I either don’t have or refuse to give them. They’re now visiting several times a day, sometimes one straight after the other, and they’re constantly finding new ways to torture me. I can’t lift my head, I can’t open my eyes, my body won’t move, and although I know that it’s because my body has been torn apart, it’s also because I can’t get into the Void.

Somehow, even though I can't access any of my magic, it's made no difference to the effect not going into the Void has on me; I’m being sliced apart, and even without the Princes, I’m being drained. Old wounds that the Void healed are starting to reappear, and its agony.

All I know is agony. Because I’m passing out, I’m not sleeping, which means I’m not dreaming, which means that my only ray of hope, the only thing that was keeping me slightly sane and distracting me from the shit show that has become my life, isn’t happening anymore, I haven’t see H, and I miss him.

I decide I have nothing to lose at this point; there’s no way that I’m going to get out of this. I’m going to die soon.

So I pray, if there is anyone still listening, anyone at all, anyone who gives even a tiny shit, please let me see my men again, even if only in a dream, please let me dream of them, please let me see my light again, let me see H, and my men one last time before I fade into nothingness.

I get no sign that anyone has heard me, and that last flicker of hope disappears, leaving behind pain.

Only pain.

I’ll be glad when the pain stops.

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