Page 103 of Her Tortured Beasts

Something rises up out of the abyss at the centre of me. Something massive. Something heavy and hard, made of fire and claws and a roar that could shake mountains.

With a push of a gun into my spine, I follow The Collector out of the cell, back into the cold white lights of the corridor.

Only when the door is closed do I turn to her. Slowly, and with great purpose, I take a single step towards her. Guns swivel towards my body, too many to count. I no longer care.

“I want you to know something,” I hiss, my eyes filling with tears of rage, but I don’t blink, fixing my gaze on the crocodile with terrible, violent focus. My voice trembles, but not with fear. “I willnotbreak. Not here. Not ever. Torture me, rape me, leave me to be forgotten in the dark, but know that I will never, not in this life, nor in any other.Break. For. You.”

She’s silent as she marks me, her eyes also unblinking, her focus pinpoint. I know she realises I’m right. Perhaps she expected it from the last fucking Boneweaver. Perhaps she thinks she’ll enjoy the challenge.

Something changes in her eyes then. Some decision made.

“Very well, Aurelia.” Her voice holds a note of quiet resignation. “Very well.”

Chapter 58

Xander

Daylight — David Kushner

The Hellfire’s beachfront holiday house is nice enough, and for once, Francesca is happy. Her parents are nervous around me, but I hardly care about that.

She’s hiding something from me. There’s a spot of darkness around her that catches my eye in every annoying moment. She’s not pregnant—I’m quick to hear rudimentary heartbeats in pregnant women and I’ve been checking for it daily.

I’m asked to go to the beach this morning and I’ve said no for the last two days, so I oblige them. Lord Hellfire and I sit under the cabana, he with the day’s newspaper and me with my tablet. His daughter and Lady Hellfire walk along the beach where the tide meets the water, likely talking about me, but I don’t care enough to listen.

My screen captures my full attention as I read reports I obtained from hacking into the Animus Academy databases. I’ve been slowly making my way through Aurelia’s medical reports from when she first arrived at the academy, and now Lyle’s notes from when he first counselled her.

He really didn’t like her at the beginning. That much is obvious from the curt, short notes. I just don’t know when exactly that changed.

Student appears distressed at the mention of her father.

Was it then? When he realised she was afraid of her father? Or later, when she’d taken a lioness form. Did he love her because he’d seen her as a feline?

The attached pictures are from her student ID card, and there’s more from the journalists at the courthouse before her trial.

She appears grey in them, her face first surprised, then grim, her mouth a straight line as Lyle escorts her inside. I wonder what she was thinking in those moments. We now know she was hardly plotting anything because they absolutely thrashed her at the trial. She had little to no cunning with that.

And then came the nimpins who’d executed their little attack precisely enough to allow her to escape…but only to a hidden part of the school.

When she’d gotten herself kidnapped by the serpent scum, I’d come upon them about to cut her open. If I hadn’t arrived, if I hadn’t been there, they would have succeeded in their plan to maim her.

She’d been powerless to stop them.

There are more photos from the place she lived before the academy. I’ve seen these before, but they look different to me now. It’s sort of depressing to look at the Two-Minute Noodle packet on the counter and the clear hole in the ceiling.

I swipe back to photos from the trial. Those jewels she wears. The earrings, that necklace…

She looks different now. Compared to these photos. Drakos Estate has changed her and not for the better.

“You’re obsessed with her!”

My head whips up and I realise Francesca is standing behind me, reading over my shoulder, and I was so engrossed in what I was reading that I didn’t even notice.

“What?” I snap, shutting off the screen, furious at myself. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You are!” she screams, pointing at me. “Every time I see you, you’re staring at her, and the worst part of it is that you don’t even realise it!”

I shake my head. “You’re mistaken, Francesca. She is merely a pawn.”

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