Page 61 of The Stygian Crown

Then the room rippled around her. The stone walls stretched and bubbled, fading into the ceiling and floor as a wooden room took shape. Victus, Salizar, and several Sanguine mercenaries appeared in a circle around her. Then the table disappeared beneath her hands.

Victus began to clap. “How was her time?”

“An hour since the door was unlocked, twenty minutes since she left the cell,” Salizar said.

Victus cursed and began digging through the coin purse on his belt. “You win this time. I expected her to waste more time trying to free her sisters.” Others began to exchange coin.

Kara slowly turned to Victus, blood draining from her face. She’d been played. He was the puppetmaster; she his marionette. The stranger in the dark had never been on her side. Kara started to shake, the torture and reckless flight catching up to her. She was never going to escape, never going to be free. Logan may not even be alive anymore. They were just fucking with her head.

Victus stepped toward her, and Kara raised a hook to her neck, brandishing the other in front of her. Her arm shook when she extended it.

A distant rumble filled the air. Several of the Sanguines flicked their gaze toward the corner of the room. An empty corner where no one stood. Victus held Kara’s gaze.

“Logan?” she whispered.

An answering roar, though it sounded a mile away. Relief surged through her chest.

“He’s breaking the illusion. Get her out of here,” Salizar said.

“I want to see him,” Kara said.

“I don’t think you’ll like what you see,” Victus said.

Kara dug the hook deeper into her skin, ignoring the pain. Pain was her constant companion now. “Show me.”

Victus waved his fingers at Salizar, and the illusion in the corner fell. Logan was hunched over inside a cage, kneeling on the ground. He was held up by four metal poles that riddled his body. One penetrated each shoulder and calf. The poles extended into the ceiling and the ground, preventing him from escaping them.

Kara stared in mute horror.

Both dried and fresh blood coated his skin and the inside of his cell. Logan was far paler than normal, a sunken pallor beneath his eyes, and he’d lost weight. His irises were crimson. They blazed into hers, scanning her body for damage and not liking what he saw, based on his thunderous expression.

The poles studding Logan’s body began to vibrate and slide up and down. His muscles seized. He bared his teeth, the skin of his forehead tightening into furrows. Blood slid out from around the poles.

“Stop it!” Kara screamed.

“Drop your weapons,” Victus said.

“No!” Logan snapped. “Don’t worry about me, Kara. Save yourself.” His voice crunched. He had the vocal quality of someone who’d screamed their throat raw.

Kara dropped the hooks, and Logan shut his eyes.

“Kick them over here,” Victus said.

Kara did, careful to keep the sharp tips away from her bare feet.

Victus walked up to her and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck. “What do you think? Each pole has retractable barbs. It’s one of my favorite toys. Most don’t last long on the poles, but a Namirahn male...” Victus brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Perhaps we’ll try it on you.”

Logan growled, his muscles bunching in rage. He glared at Victus like he wanted to eviscerate him. “Tell him what he wants, Kara. It will be okay.”

Kara thought she’d had it bad, and all this time Logan had been enduring this abuse. Her heart clenched for him. She longed to go to him, to touch him and make sure he was real—really alive, not that lifeless illusion.

“Don’t be too encouraging, Commander. You’ll ruin all my fun.” He gripped Kara’s shoulders and spun her around, exposing the raw wounds on her back. “She’s quite pretty on my hooks. Shame I’ll have to find some new skin to hang her from.”

A hum of rage slid from Logan, one that Kara’s curse recognized and responded to in kind. Her mark flared with heat, and anger pulsed through her.

“For every scratch on her, you will suffer an eternity.”

Victus laughed. “I do love a good threat.”

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