Page 36 of Kissed By the Sun

The clankingof my chains echoed through the dimly lit corridor, a grim harbinger of what was to come. I shuffled forward, flanked by guards who seemed impervious to the dread that settled like a shroud over my shoulders. As we reached the interrogation room, the door swung open with a groan that mirrored the unease coiling in my gut.

They hadn’t used cuffs and chains last time, but this time it had been non-negotiable. When I’d tried I’d been backhanded so hard my lip split.

I stepped across the threshold and there he was, the interrogator from the day before, a smirk etched onto his angular features as if my torment amused him. Beside him stood another elf, his pallid complexion and sunken eyes suggesting illness or a profound lack of rest. But it wasn't them that sent a spike of fear through my heart—it was the table.

Strategically positioned in the center of the room, it was an ominous slab of dark wood, about the height of an average fae or elf. Straps dangled from its sides, their purpose unmistakablysinister. The interrogator's smile widened as he followed my gaze.

"Welcome back, Senara," he said, his voice a chilling caress. "We've prepared something special for you today." He gestured toward the table, then toward the other elf. “This is Leonidas, he’s one of our top interrogators. Leo this is Sen-something. She’ll be your client today.” The fancy fae stepped toward me and stage whispered, “Between you and me he’s one of the better ones. He’s very good at what he does, so do us all a favor and don’t put up too much of a fight or we’ll have to miss dinner, and I’m already hungry.”

My pulse hammered against my throat. That table promised nothing but pain and despair, and every instinct screamed at me to flee. Yet bound and surrounded, I was as helpless as a dove in a snare.

"Let's not waste time," the sickly elf, Leo, rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. He avoided my eyes, his own gaze lingering on the table with what might have been regret. I just couldn’t tell if it was regret for what he was about to do to me, or regret that the wood of the table was forever tarnished with the blood of his previous…clients.

The fancy elf stepped back and took a seat on a dingy wood chair after dusting it off. To be honest I was surprised that he deigned to sit on it at all given how averse he was to filth.

I clenched my jaw, bracing myself for whatever came next. They could strap me down, they could try to break me, but I resolved silently that I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing my spirit crumble.

The interrogator's questions sliced through the tense air, echoing ones he'd asked before. "Tell us about the Moon Court's plans," he demanded, his gaze unyielding as he elegantly crossed his legs, as though he knew my answer would come soon enough, whether I wanted to tell him or not.

"Nothing has changed since yesterday," I replied through gritted teeth. My words were as truthful as they had been the day prior. There was nothing I could tell him, and at this point even if there was something to their suspicions, I wouldn’t share it with them out of sheer spite. A flicker of annoyance passed over his features like a shadow.

"Very well," he sighed, signaling to the guard without breaking eye contact with me.

I clenched my jaw and braced myself for the impact, but the slap still sent an unwelcome shock through my system and with my feet chained up I had to struggle to stay upright. The sting was sharp, a precursor to what awaited me on that odious table. I hadn’t anticipated the second hit though and this one did have me down on the ground, unable to even brace myself against the fall since my hands were chained behind my back.

The kick to my gut was unexpected as well, but nothing I hadn’t experienced before. My body may be all fae now, I may be bigger and stronger and faster, but I’d always been bullied. I’d always been the one on the receiving end of the beatings so I knew it was best to just let it happen and wait it out. If I fought I could trigger some weird bloodlust or something and make him want to fight more, whereas if I stayed down then all I had to do was wait for him to tire himself out.

A few more hefty kicks later and the guard was tapped out. He hauled me up from the ground and dragged me toward the table, tossing me on top of it like a bag of flour. Before I could even try and move Leo had my arm and leg strapped down on one side and as he undid the cuffs binding me, the guard strapped down the other.

The material bit into my wrists and ankles, anchoring me down, I mustered the stoicism that had seen me through countless battles. I was Senara, I was a warrior, I was chosen forthe kingsguard, I was chosen by the moon goddess herself; this was merely another test of endurance.

But as Leo began his administrations and the first wave of agony crashed over me, the reality of torture shattered any illusions of resilience I harbored. Pain, unlike anything I'd ever felt, seared through me, making my body arch involuntarily against its bonds as it tried to escape of its own accord. Despite my determination, cries of torment flew from my lips, each one tearing at my pride. The whole time the interrogator watched from his chair, not quite delighting in my suffering but certainly not horrified by it either.

In the midst of my suffering, the door swung open with force enough to shake the walls. Thorn stumbled in, pushed by unseen hands, his face a mask of horror as his eyes found mine. His presence should have been a comfort, but it only amplified the anguish.

"Senara!" His voice cracked, a sound laced with desperation and guilt.

I tried to swallow back the screams, to spare him the sight of my pain, but a glance at a smiling interrogator told me that wasn’t going to be possible. Just as I tried to steel my resolve Leo tore a nail from my finger, raw agony ripped another cry from deep within me. My heart clenched as I saw Thorn look away helplessly, defeat etching deeper lines onto his already marred countenance. It seemed like he’d had a beating of his own already.

He should have been a storm of fury, a fiery tornado unleashed upon our captors. But as I caught glimpses of him between waves of pain, I noticed the cuffs clasping his wrists—dull, menacing metal with glowing markings carved into them. The runes must have had something to do with magic suppression since his sun mark, usually ablaze with power, laydormant and practically dark on his skin. They had snuffed out his fire, leaving him as vulnerable as I was on this accursed table.

I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to fight against the suppression, to ignite the defiant spark I knew he possessed. But my own resolve was faltering, my world narrowing to the relentless onslaught of torment. My thoughts became fragmented, disjointed whispers carried away on the winds of pain, while the hope of rescue or reprieve grew dimmer with each passing moment.

My muscles coiled, a serpent ready to strike, as Leo’s hands approached once more. I bucked against the restraints and the table that still somehow remained cold even though it was coated with my sweat and blood. My skin was rubbed raw against leather that seemed to tighten with every movement. The table became my battleground, and I fought with the ferocity of a cornered beast, but this was a fight where the shackles held all the power.

"Stop moving, or I'll hand you over to them," Leo hissed, motioning to the door where the guards leered with vulgar grins. My heart stuttered, a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I stilled for a mere moment, the threat hanging in the air like a guillotine's blade.

I glanced down then, my breath hitching at the sight of my dress—or what was left of it. It hung in tattered ribbons, a mockery of modesty, exposing flesh that trembled with both cold and fear. A desperate laugh bubbled in my throat, an edge of hysteria to it. "You think they'd touch something so sullied?" I spat out, trying to cling to any shred of defiance I possessed.

But my attempt at bravado crumbled when he chuckled darkly, leaning close enough for me to feel his breath on my ear. His gnarled fingers gripped my chin, the strength in those digits no longer a surprise as he forced my head to turn toward them. "Look at their longing," he whispered cruelly. And I did. Mygaze slid to the guards, my stomach roiling as I saw their lust-filled eyes and the undeniable bulges in their trousers. A glance at Thorn let me know that the fancy elf had moved from his chair and was whispering into Thorn’s ears just like Leo was into mine.

"Filth or not, they're animals," he continued, "and animals don't discriminate."

I wasn’t sure whether one of the guards had picked up on being called an animal or if he was having trouble keeping his urges in check, but he took a step toward the table, toward me, as though he couldn’t help himself. A guttural noise tore from Thorn's throat—a snarl of protection that had no bite behind it. He lunged forward but was quickly subdued, the thud of his body hitting the floor echoed by the savage kicks that followed. His pain was palpable, a living thing that filled the room and entwined with my own.

"Enough!" I screamed, the word torn from my lips as much by anguish for him as by the agony I endured and fear of what might be waiting for me if I continued to resist.

The interrogator paused, his eyes gleaming with perverse satisfaction. "Oh, how touching," he sneered, bending close enough that his whisper slithered into my ear. "Would you like me to stop hurting you and let them start? Shall I force him to watch while they despoil you one by one? Or maybe all at the same time?" His words were a poison, seeping into my veins, paralyzing even as they incited a terror that eclipsed the torment of my flesh.

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