Page 75 of Her Tortured Beasts

With what is about to happen?

You made this choice, I say to myself.Lady Boneweaver sacrifices for her friends. Sacrifices her skin. Her womb. Her honour. Because tonight, great beasts fight to purchase us. And where once before they used their claws and fangs, tonight, they will use the modern world’s form of power: money.

I sigh, long and low. Eventually, when I close my eyes, I dream of my mates. But it’s not a pleasant dream, because Savage, Scythe and Lyle are covered head to toe in blood.

The truck rumbles to a stop exactly five hours later, and I can tell, even through the thick walls of this vehicle, that we’re in the city. The buzzing energy of humans, animalia and their Saturday night shenanigans vibrates along my skin and hair.

Except it’s not only the buzz of a city at large, is it?

The doors unlock and swing soundlessly open, revealing Ghoul standing there with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Outside wait twice as many guards as usual.

“All this fanfare,” I say innocently, as Ghoul steps into the truck, making it sway side to side. “Who could it be for?”

His shadows are out in full force tonight, making him look like a true entity of the night, barely a limb visible, the edges of darkness twitching expectantly around him like a nightmarish aura. “For me, of course, snakelet,” he says, bending down to unlock both sets of steel shackles from where they’re anchored to the wall of the truck. “They all want a piece ofthis.” He gestures to himself in a dramatic sweeping motion.

My anima also wants a piece of that. But she’s a nutcase like the rest of her mates, so my shark ignores her.

I’m brought up to standing, and as we reach the edge of the truck, I get to see I have a special guard of honour where we’re parked at the loading dock of a looming, dark building. Serpents line a path on either side, holding automatic rifles on their chests. All seven generals are present, and at the end, Mace Naga, Flores Drakos, and Xander stand like the father, the son, and the holy ghost.

I chuckle at my own joke as Ghoul steps off the truck and hoists me down. That makes me Mary. They expect me to birth the saviours of their species.

Dance music drums in a nearby club and I know it can’t be where I’m headed.

People with the amount of money required tonight, the animalia and human elite, don’t listen to dance music before they make a purchase.

“They listen to the screams of the innocent,” I mutter.

The serpent militia closest glance warily at me as Ghoul leads me by the elbow. They close in behind us, cutting off any hope of escape.

“So cosy,” Ghoul says. “Just one big, happy family.”

The three evil beasts part, revealing something that makes me raise my brows.

“How medieval,” I muse. “How barbaric.”

Because standing before me on ancient wheels is a man-sized birdcage of obsidian and cast iron. The bars are set into a heavy obsidian base, reaching upwards like begging hands until they meet at the top. Along the bars and on the floor, brutal metal spikes are set at intervals, leaving only a small clear space within.

The person who stands in it would be poked by spikes on every part of their body. Unable to move lest they risk being pierced. A total prisoner.

Flores blinks at Ghoul in a bored way as we come to stand in front of them. “You were told to gag her, General.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Ghoul chuckles. “Used to giving orders, not following ‘em.” He gestures to someone behind us and metal passes hands. “Open up, snakelet.”

I eye the ball gag with distaste before opening my mouth. I feel like every damn beast in the vicinity is watching me as Ghoul places the metal ball between my teeth and tightly fastens the straps at the back of my head. The creek of old hinges tells me someone has opened the wheeled cage and I’m being turned around and led to the metal steps built into the platform.

Eyeing the metal spikes, I gingerly climb in, Ghoul’s gloved hand under one of mine. His shadows slide up my forearm in a forbidden caress before he lets me go, and I step over two spikes and into the cage’s centre, making myself as small as possible. Even then, multiple spikes scrape my bare skin on the way in. But it’s not until the door clicks shut that I truly feel the danger of it. Spikes press into the space between my breasts, multiple on my abdomen, two on my kidneys, three on my spine, and two on each thigh and calf. I grimace as the cage begins to roll and one of the spikes draws blood from the motion. Luckily the thing is electronic, with Ghoul remotely driving it with the device in his hands. We head up a ramp into the building in the wake of the two dragons and king cobra.

The corridors are thankfully wide as I’m wheeled through, the serpents forming a procession around me. We finally head into a room, fancy red walls with crimson patterned carpet that reminds me of a casino. It’s bare of anything except a gilded mirror and a lacquered wooden table.

“Get her in there,” Mace Naga says, standing just outside the threshold. “Guard her with your lives. We begin in one hour.”

My cage wheels itself in, stopping right in the middle of the room when the door closes behind us.

I stand stiff, tightly clutching the bars in both hands as Ghoul and Xander prowl around me, staring. Appraising.

Xander sighs. “She doesn’t look good. Why has no one brushed her hair?” He looks around like Heather might pop out of the woodwork, but of course, there are no maids here. “There are bags under her eyes.”

“And what’s this?” Ghoul picks up a bottle of clear liquid that sloshes around like oil with a bronze sheen. He shakes it, chuckling as if the sparkling of it amuses him.

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