Page 66 of Burned

“You disgraceful, worthless fucks,” Dad growls at Viggo. “I always knew the two of you were soft, but I had no idea you’d turn on your own flesh and blood.”

I scoff, spitting more blood, my stomach roiling at the salty copper flavor filling my mouth. “You expect loyalty when this is how you treat your flesh and blood. That’s rich coming from you.”

Digby wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes, his fingers biting into my flesh hard enough to leave deep bruises that should last for days, tighter and tighter until I’m struggling to wheeze through each attempted breath. “Don’t talk to him that way,” he growls, releasing his grip.

I cough and glare at my oldest brother again. “You’re such a follower,” I grit out through the pain. “Daddy’s little soldier. You’re pathetic.”

I see the shame my words cause flash across his face, his jaw ticking and his eyes narrowing. Just to prove how much he takes after our dad; he responds by landing another punch to my gut. The force of it makes bile rise in my throat and knocks the wind out of me. The worst part of it is, I never really expected Digby to take my side. If our dad tells him to kill me, he’ll do it without blinking. I just wish he could see that he’s just as expendable as I am.

“You have nothing to offer him but brawn,” I taunt him with a wheeze. “You’ll always be in his shadow.”

“Shut up, loser. At least I’m not a traitor.”

“There are two sides to every conflict. You’re on the wrong side.”

Viggo’s pained moans rattle through me, and I know I have to do something before our dad kills him. If I can confuse Digby enough to let me go, I have a shot at getting us out of this.

“He told me once he was ashamed of you.”

Digby’s brow creases. “He did not.”

I nod, fighting back the pain in my chest—not just my pain but Lord’s. I can feel his panic making my heart race.

“He said you were his least favorite, but you showed the most enthusiasm. He said if I could be as committed as you, he’d pass his sword to me when he died.”

“You shut up,” Digby hisses. “He didn’t say that.”

“He did. He thinks you’re a dumb brute. No mind for strategy, just violence. He said you could never lead an army.”

Digby’s eyes fill with hurt, but I don’t give a fuck. I’ve suffered too many beatings at his hands to care how he feels. Even if our dad never actually said these things, it’s how he feels. He’s never had an ounce of love or respect for any of us. We’re tools to him. We always have been.

“He doesn’t love us, Digs. Look how he’s treated us. He doesn’t care if we live or die.”

Digby glances behind me as our dad continues to pummel Viggo, whose grunts are growing quieter and weaker with every blow.Please don’t let him die because of me.

“He… he did it to make us strong. To make us men.” There’s a quiver in Digby’s voice now though, the slightest hint that maybe a tiny part of him knows I’m right.

“If I shoved a sword into your chest right now, he wouldn’t try to save you. He would call you weak. That’s what he called me, right? When I was attacked? He told you to leave me for dead. You took my sword with you, and you left me there to die alone in the woods, and our own dad didn’t even shed a tear.”

His jaw twitches. “You aligned with the enemy.”

“No. You have,” I spit. “Heis the enemy.”

“Dammit, Digby,” Dad bellows. “Can you do anything right?”

I turn my head to see my brother’s body on the ground, crumpled and still. Before I can do anything, a sharp pain sears through my side. I look down to see the flash of silver as my dad pulls back the sword he just used to tear my flesh open. I gasp,as much with surprise as with pain. He stabbed me, he actually stabbed me.

I huff out shallow breaths, staring wide-eyed down at the blood rapidly staining my shirt, wet and sticky and warm.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I have a feeling your blood will help us break through the dragon compound.” He chuckles darkly, then glares at Digby. “Drop him. He can bleed out.”

A conflicted mix of emotions flashes across Digby’s face before he does as he’s told and lets me fall to the ground.

“Come on, Digby. We’re going back to that compound and torching the dragons.” He kneels down and roughly grabs my chin. “I’m going to use your sword to kill them. Hopefully you’ll be alive long enough to think about the damage you caused.”

He shoves my face as he takes his hand away and stomps off toward the main house. Digby lingers, glancing back. I reach out a hand, but he tears his gaze away, leaving me and Viggo on the ground to die.

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