Page 8 of Bound By Darkness

“Gayle.” I choked. He was the Captain of this hellish place—and the one man who despised my existence. I wanted anyone else in my cell except for him and his twisted smile.

“Tsk.” He wagged his finger back and forth. The muscles in his arms flexed with each movement. “Did you think you’d escape after such an amateur stunt?”

My eyes widened at the thin strap of leather wound tightly around his hand.

“Moria,” I whimpered.

Where was she? If she appeared, he’d listen to her. He always caved for the beautiful brunette.

Gayle unbound the leather, tracing its smooth edge with his finger. “Moria’s working grounds.” He licked his lips. “But it doesn’t mean wecan’t have fun. Does it, darling?”

“You… you bastard.” My voice wavered at the sight of it.

The chains did not budge from the wall as he towered over me; the largest and strongest Captain, he also devoted himself to the title of most sadistic. His physical prowess heightened his ability to inflict harm, his muscled chest puffing with adrenaline as his eyes raked over me. Not a single scar nicked his body, because he’d never lost a fight.

Gayle whistled a haunting tune. “Ten lashings, ordered by your new master. I have to admit he’s quite the bloodthirsty Fae male.”

The chains rattled once, but held firm. Panic, pure panic, seeped into my wet bones. They weren’t budging.

The whip seared into my mind.

I was scared, and Moria wasn’t there in her cell.

Alone.

The word reverberated off stone.

Gayle’s legs stretched as he positioned himself behind me, the whip snapping against the floor. “I’d say I’m doing this for your punishment, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to hear how you scream. How someone with so much unbridled casting breaks under pain.” He chuckled darkly.

Leather cracked against stone.

“I wonder if you’ll scream like you did the night of your family’s deaths. Perhaps even the scream you gave the King when he told you he’d murdered your family for hiding your casting. Do you think their pleas reached the abandoned Fae gods?”

“I hate you!” I shoutedas I barred my teeth. “I hate all of you!”

He cracked the whip against rock, a wicked grin on his face as my back arched at the sound. “Let’s test your limits.”

Whip struck flesh.

Blinding pain seared across my back at the impact, tears welling and falling from my cheeks in large pools.

The snap of the whip echoed, haunting me as it sliced through skin. Ithurt. Oh gods, it hurt more than any beating he’d ever inflicted upon me. More than when he’d extracted my fingernails one by one.

Screams filled the cell as he struck, my back tightening with each vigorous crack.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Relentless—even my mental walls failed to bid back the blinding ache as my screams echoed in the hopeless catacombs.

I needed to focus on something solid… something grounding. Counting helped me as a child, and I’d hoped it would perform the same as numbers blared hot and fresh in my mind.

I’d only prayed to the Mother once in my life, but here, as blood dripped onto stone and my back split with each strike of leather, I prayed to her again. Pleaded with her to ease the pain, but she didn’t listen to a half-breed’s request as the whip continued to slice through tissue and skin, blood spraying where it met its mark.

One. Two. Three.

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