Page 213 of The Harbinger

Ruslan laughed, turning to his henchmen before facing me again. “Did that stop me from sacrificing Yana? I’m High Priest. I make the decisions.”

I pointed to the branding below my clavicle. “But I’m bound to him. They all saw it at the gala. What will they say when they find out you put me on the altar despite the church rules and beliefs?”

“Don’t pretend to know our customs.” He hunched down and rolled the drink a little closer. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll cut it from your skin before we take you. How does that sound?”

I stepped back, my eyes scanning the cold, hard steel of the cell bars in front of me. “Please,” I pleaded, my voice a mere whisper. “Just let me see him.”

Ruslan shook his head, his eyes flinty and cold. “He won’t be helping you.”

He carelessly tossed a baggy next to the water bottle before striding away, his henchmen in tow.

“Would you at least tell me if he’s still alive,” I screeched, my desperation taking hold.

“You don’t deserve to know.” Ruslan spat, then ascended the stairs.

Quick as a flash, I snatched the bag and water, knowing full well they were about to plunge me into darkness for good.

I clutched the bag to my face and tore it open, recoiling at the putrid stench that wafted out. The remnants of the suckling piglet lay before me, its throat savagely torn, teeth marks etched deep into the flesh.

What was wrong with them?

The door creaked shut, and I was plunged into darkness. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding, and I struggled to find my bearings in the pitch-black room.

My hand trembled as I fumbled for the water bottle, my fingers tracing the ridges of the cap. With a flick of my wrist, I twisted it off and took a cautious sip, my eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. The lid remained firmly in my grasp as I braced myself for what lay ahead.

My parched throat welcomed the tepid water as it cascaded down, coating every inch of my mouth. I let out a low groan of pleasure as my tongue basked in the liquid’s refreshing embrace. But I couldn’t afford to indulge for too long. I took one last gulp before forcing my trembling fingers to secure the lid back onto the bottle. As I screwed it tight, my mind raced. When would he be back? Was Sacha truly alive, and if he was, how much did he hate me?

My finger ached, and the throbbing bone sent sharp, radiating pain down my wrist like molten lava. I clenched my jaw as I fought through the agony, then tucked the water bottle close to my hip to avoid losing it later.

I needed to do something to fix it. It wasn’t an option to put it back into place since I didn’t know how and couldn’t see. I needed to stabilize it.

With a quick, violent yank, I tore the bottom of the gown and then wrapped it around my pinkie and ring finger. Wincing, I pulled it tight with my teeth. A guttural cry escaped me, but the worst was over.

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths through my nose—my head tapping against the wall as a distraction.

Sacha’s voice reverberated in my mind.Give me your pain.

“God. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

A tear trickled down my cheek as I ruminated on Sacha, my heart heavy with remorse.

Chapter 58

Mia

Chillsrackedmybodyas the damp cold surrounded me, my teeth chattering, and my skin pebbled with perpetual gooseflesh.

It’d grown colder, having calculated Ruslan coming back every three days, just enough to keep me alive at the minimum. He’d hand me a bottle of water and another suckling pig, each one more rancid than the last. Eventually, I’d stopped nibbling on the pork and tossed it to the wayside, choosing to suffer the consequences. Besides, I’d end up dying of food poisoning before they bled me out like one of those piglets. That prospect grew more appealing every day.

Light speared through the room, and Ruslan stepped into the room.

“What is it now? Rotten fruit?” I asked.

He waved his hand in front of his face and guffawed. “I see your time in isolation has only made you more vile.” He turned to the men over his shoulder. “Haven’t either one of you come to take care of her bucket?”

They glanced at one another and shook their heads. He turned back to me, his hand held over his mouth.

“I’ve grown accustomed to the smell now. It no longer bothers me, much like you.” I shrugged, not even bothering to pull myself off the ground for him.

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