Page 77 of Shattered Silence

Someone cursed softly. A hard knee went into his stomach. Strong hands were on his arms, his legs, pinning him down.

“Zharek, hurry up and sedate him.”

“On it.”

A sharp prick entered his left arm. Suddenly, his limbs went heavy, and all the power in his arms drained away.

They had sedated him against his will! A roar of fury burst from his lips. A large hand pressed against his forehead, holding him down, forcing him to focus.

“Enki Zakanin. Look at me.”

“I will call you Zakanin. Do you know what that means, boy? In High Kordolian, it means ‘no name’. You might be from my seed, but you are no son of mine.”

Daegan slapped his cheek, hard.

Glaring back at him, Enki spat in his face.

The noble’s face twisted into a mask of pure rage. “You never learn, do you, boy? What recessive gene did you inherit to make you so stupid? Demon-spawn. I should have killed you the moment you escaped your mother’s womb and stole her life away.” He slapped him again, raking his claws across Enki’s face. Blood flowed into his eyes, partially blinding him. Enki struggled against his bonds, but it was futile. Ever since he’d overpowered Daegan and struck him in the face, the bastard had kept him in restraints.

“You look like her, you know,” Daegan hissed. “Maybe that’s why I haven’t killed you yet. Doesn’t matter. You serve a purpose now.” Slowly, deliberately, he dragged a finger through the deepest cut on Enki’s face, but Enki didn’t even flinch, because that pain was nothing compared to what he’d endured at the hands of this cursed noble.

Pain was a constant companion, but he’d long ago learned to ignore it, drawing on his deep, deep hatred of the man.

They shared blood, but that was it.

Daegan was nothing to him but a sadistic tormentor, and time and time again, Enki had silently vowed that he would kill the bastard, even if he had to die and go to hell and come back to kill him in another life.

Daegan licked the blood off his finger and smiled. “They like it when you bleed. They like it even more when you’re angry. Turns them on. But you’re not afraid anymore, are you, boy? Shame. They like it when you’re scared. I might have to come up with another use for you soon.” He turned and walked away, glancing back over his shoulder, his eyes glittering like tiny yellow stones as he basked in Enki’s helplessness. “Don’t disappoint her now, boy.”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Enki hissed through clenched teeth, but Daegan was already gone.

“Enki Zakanin, look at me. That’s a fucking order!”

Naked, restrained, helpless, lying on the wet floor surrounded by shards of thick glass, Enki blinked furiously, and saw crimson.

A penetrating gaze. A familiar gaze. Not an enemy. He struggled to remember.

“Wherever you went just now, whoever you were speaking to, that place is not here, and I am not that person. Remember your tribe, Enki Zakanin of the First Division. Remember what forged you.”

“H-he’s dead,” Enki croaked as his world slowly came back into focus; as he remembered who he was. “I killed him.”

And he was not powerless anymore. Hadn’t been, for such a long time.

He’d killed Daegan, and he’d felt nothing.

“You did,” the General growled, removing his hand from Enki’s forehead. Enki tried to sit up, but whatever Zharek had pumped into him had made him sluggish and weak. “The sedative should wear off soon. We had to restrain you.” Shifting to a kneeling position, he removed his weight so Enki was no longer pinned down. “It worked,” he said softly. “The Tharian has been transferred into the other body. You are free.”

Gone. The passenger in his mind was gone, and suddenly, everything—breathing, thinking, existing—felt so much easier.

Enki would have rejoiced, except for the fact that he couldn’t fucking move, and some strange wet substance was trickling down the sides of his face, and something—someone—very important was missing.

“Layla.” He became frantic. “Where is she?”

“I’m here.” Suddenly, she was there beside him, and everything else—even the indomitable General—faded into the background.

Nothing else mattered except for her.

She took his hand into hers, not caring that his claws were still out. She leaned in and put her hand over his heart, not caring that his body was slick with viscous blue stasis liquid. Goddess, she felt so warm and good. Her soft female scent washed over him, bringing him back into the world of the living.

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