Page 50 of The Stones for It
“Aye, feels f-fine,” she rasped, but her voice was thready and so weak it crushed me.
Of course, even now, my bratty mate was trying to crack jokes.
I couldn’t lose that spark. Couldn’t return to the dull void my life was before her.
Neiron and I didn’t have the type of magic that could heal a human. Especially not a fatal wound.
We needed help.
And there was only one fae here powerful enough to give it.
Shame he was more likely to kill than save her.
Chapter twenty
Rattle
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I gritted my fangs against the scream that wanted to tear free at the infuriating, incessant sound.
And pretended for the hundredth time that it was water dripping from the rocky ceiling of my dank cell.
The trickling along my ribs and arms was harder to ignore.
As was the throbbing ache from countless cuts and stab wounds. My chest, abdomen, tail… Nothing was spared. Even my fangs had been torn from my gums. The regrowth was more painful than the initial injury, and the royal hunters who’d taken a turn at me knew it.
Once my comrades, now my jailors.
I tried to adjust my position on the chilled stone slab. Chains rattled, pulling taut around my wrists to hold me down. Layers of metal wrapped my tail too, scraping my scales with every slight movement.
Agony bit into my skin, and blood gushed from the freshly agitated cuts. The persistent scent of damp rock was once more swamped by my own metallic blood.
Moving was overrated.
A scream echoed from somewhere beyond my cell. It bounced around the rocky walls of the underground cavern. Another of the Council’s prisoners going through their daily ‘questioning’.
Punishmentwas more accurate. Or entertainment for the guards.
I let my thoughts circle back to the only thing keeping me sane—my heartmate.
I’d been in the dungeon for only a handful of days, but I had to assume that Kelsea was now running for her life in the Great Hunt. The thought of any entitled highborn faesamplingmy fierce, beautiful mate had my newly regrown fangs descending from the roof of my mouth with a harsh ache.
Venom seeped across my tongue until I choked on my own bitterness.
It didn’t matter what they did to me. As long as I was still alive, I could find a way back to her. I’d promised to keep her safe, and when I found her, I was never letting anything come between us again.
So, I continued to work my blunted claws along the seam on my cuffs, scratching away at the weakest point like I had been ever since I’d woken up chained to the rock.
I counted each crack and crevice on the rough-hewn ceiling that made up my personal little cave prison. Even if I wasn’t bound, I’d barely be able to stretch my tail out in the cramped space.
Pain stabbed through my torso and stole my breath.
For a second, I thought another one of my wounds had torn open, but the sensation was too deep. Too visceral.
