Page 75 of Merciless Prince
I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming again as I felt another gush of blood spurting from my flesh. It didn’t hurt as much now, but I knew that wasn’t a good sign. Shallow cuts hurt the most, so the fact that this last one didn’t sting too badly meant it was deep. The warm, sticky sensation of the blood flowing down my skin confirmed that.
“Who went into the tunnel with you, Shay?” Killian growled in my ear. “Fucking tell me.”
A sob tore from my lungs as the blade sliced down my left leg. “No one!” I shrieked. “It was just me!”
“Okay. You want more punishment? You got it,” he said. He slashed the knife down my right thigh, eliciting another choked cry from my lungs.
“Stop!” I cried. “Please! I swear, I was alone!”
“I’m not going to ask you again,” Killian replied in a low voice. “I’m just going to keep cutting. If you want it to stop, you know what you have to do.”
He brought the blade down on my flesh, again and again, making me scream and cry until my lungs ached. I begged and begged for the torment to stop, but he didn’t let up.
I could only imagine how grotesque my body looked, covered in dark slashes with blood dripping over every inch of me. The only places Killian had left untouched were my neck and face.
My head lolled forward as I sucked in a ragged breath. I felt weak and bone-tired from the blood loss, and my mind was turning foggy, like I’d been drugged all over again. If one more cut was inflicted on me, I’d pass out.
“Please… please stop,” I whispered, chest heaving. My throat was clogged with tears, so my words came out garbled and barely audible. “No more.”
“Christ, you’re so fucking dramatic,” Killian muttered, yanking the blindfold off my face.
I looked down, needing to see all the damage he’d done to me, and my mouth dropped open. There was no blood anywhere. The only cuts on my body were pink welts from minor scratches that hadn’t broken the skin.
“I don’t understand,” I said hoarsely, mind reeling with shock. “What did you do to me?”
Killian smirked at my stunned expression. “It’s an old psychological trick. Blindfold a person and pretend to cut them with a blunt knife while dripping warm sugar water on them. It convinces them they’re dying of blood loss.”
“But… it wasn’t just in my head,” I said. “I really felt it. You cut me open. I felt all of it!”
“I know you did. The mind is a very powerful thing,” he said, unfastening the cuffs around my wrists. He crouched to liberate my feet and let out a short snort of irritation. “If only yours was powerful enough to allow you to answer a simple fucking question.”
Even though the torture I’d just endured wasn’t real in a physical sense, the harrowing effects of it had left me weak and shaken. I couldn’t stand properly when Killian pulled me away from the board, so he held me in his muscular arms until my legs stopped trembling.
“You’re a sick bastard,” I whispered, face burning with humiliation.
I would never admit this out loud, but right now I was actually angrier at myself than I was at Killian. I couldn’t believe how easily my body had betrayed me. I genuinely thought I was slipping away up on that board, genuinely felt the blood draining right out of me… but it was all a lie. A nasty psychosomatic trick.
Killian let out a cruel laugh, eyes flashing with wicked delight as he regarded my bright pink cheeks. “Don’t be such a fucking drama queen. It could’ve been a lot worse. I could’ve cut you open for real and rubbed salt in the wounds,” he said. “There’s an idea for next time, huh?”
“Fuck you,” I spat out.
He dragged me back toward the pillar where my chain lay, chuckling under his breath the whole time. He was clearly very proud of himself for messing with my head so easily.
“You really are a psychopath,” I muttered, sinking to the floor and glowering at him as he closed the metal cuff around my ankle. “But I don’t care. You can use whatever tricks you want on me. Hurt me as much as you want. I’ll never tell you anything.”
The self-satisfied amusement faded from Killian’s eyes. It was replaced by a stony glare. “You think that was real torture back there, Shay? Real pain?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
I stared up at him, heart in my throat. I had no idea how to respond. No idea if I should even say anything at all.
“Just you fucking wait,” Killian hissed, stepping closer. “There’s so much more I can do to you. So much more I’mgoingto do.” He gripped my arm, leaning down so his face was only inches from mine. “I’m getting those fucking names from you… even if it kills you.”
23
Shay
I rubbedmy eyes with the heel of my hand. It could be day or night. I had no idea. All I knew in relation to the time was that approximately seven days had passed since I became a prisoner.
I’d figured it out because of the one meal Killian brought me every day. It was the same thing every time—a club sandwich from the hotel kitchen and a bottle of water. Enough protein, fat, and carbs to keep me alive, but not enough to give me the strength to fight.
