Page 63 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
CRACK!
The thunder roared violently as the whip hit me again.
I still didn’t beg.
Even as another blow landed, right across my spine, making me see white, then nothing, I stayed silent, save for the involuntary cry forced out of me. My body screamed, but my will clenched tight, iron beneath the agony.
One more, I thought to myself, you can do one more.
“Do not cry. Do not give up, Flameborn, I will heal you.”My friend whispered to me once more. Its voice was unlike anything I’ve ever heard before.
Focus on his voice.
Deep.
Growly.
Otherworldly.
The King waited for the last lash; the anticipation was almost too much. I didn’t think I could stand any longer as my vision threatened to disappear.
“El-Elara! I’m so fucking sorry,” the Prince cried. The King must’ve allowed them to free his son because he was now standing right in front of me. Horror filled his eyes.Eyes that now reminded me too much of the Kings. I couldn’t look at him.
Just as the whip was about to strike me again, Fintan moved out of sight. I could hear his heavy breathing, but I never felt the pain from the last lash.
The crowd gasped.
I realized Fintan took the last lashing for me.
A man named Bastion suddenly uncuffed me. His rough hands were calloused, lacking any semblance of gentleness as he freed me from my restraints. I looked up at him. His eyes were an unfathomable abyss, a deep, impenetrable darkness swirling with fury, rendering his irises nearly invisible.
I would kill him, too.
My hands were now free.
It’s over now.
Strong arms wrapped around me, careful not to touch my raw back. Eryn and Makar came running. “We need to get her to the infirmary right now!” Fintan shouted. He and Makar grabbed each of my arms.
I didn’t collapse. I couldn’t, not yet. I hung limp, breathing in ragged gasps, my mind spiraling in the haze of torment.
But something inside of me survived.
And it rememberedevery strike.
Chapter Sixteen
Agony ripped me from the dark.
I came to with a scream already tearing through my throat, ragged and hoarse, as if I’d been screaming for hours. My body was fire—no, worse—fire would have been a mercy. This was something crueler. Something that burrowed beneath my skin and lit every nerve in my back like lightning cracking open bone.
I was face-down on something soft, though it did nothing to soften the pain. The bedding beneath me was damp with sweat—maybe blood. My hands clawed uselessly at the sheets, and I couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t think. My entire world narrowed to the shredded ruin of my back.
“Hold her down—Elara, don’t—!”
That was Eryn’s voice. She sounded close. Too close. I wanted to tell her to go away, to stop touching me, to stop breathing, to leave me in the dark where at least the pain hadn’t been this sharp.
But my mouth wouldn’t work.
