The Heart's Ashes
Page 128
Drake spun back to face me. “Well, of course, we plan to kill you. But before we take the young warrior’s word on what you are, we must perform a few tests—to make sure.”
“What kinds of tests?”
“Ha!” he squeaked with humour. “What kinds?” He turned to the council. “What kinds, she asks. Oh, such a brave little girl to question a king.”
“You’re no king,” some stupid girl inside me said, running on nerves and adrenaline. “You’re just a man. I’m not afraid of you.”
“That’s only because you know not what I’m going to do to you,” he said, his mouth suddenly on the bridge of my nose, his words spitting through his stark white teeth. I drew a quick breath. “I’m going to make you cry. I’m going to make you scream, and if you satisfy my needs, I will eventually offer you the mercy of death.”
Drake shoved me to the ground; I tumbled like a heavy bag of clothes; my hands flew out as the force bent my weight into my elbows, just before my nose hit the ground. The dark shadow of the king lingered for a second, then tapered away, leaving me alone on the stone floor, like a dog.
My teeth tensed in the back of my mouth, my face angled to the ground—away from the eyes of the council.
I want to run away—to just get up and tell them I don’t want to play anymore. But this isn’t a game. And they won’t let me go. They got me, they did exactly what David told me to be afraid of, only now, it’s worse, because I’m equivalent to the creature they once so brutally destroyed.
“Jason?” The king said. “Undress her.”
“Undress her?” Jason looked at me.
“Yes. The council wish to taste her blood. Undress her.”
I rolled my face upward to meet Jason’s as he sauntered toward me, his arms still folded. With wide eyes and crawling skin, I shook my head, feeling the pinch of fear creep over me like nakedness. “Jason. Don’t. Please, don’t.”
He grabbed my wrist and threw me onto my back.
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest, gripping my lace dress with unyielding desperation.
“Stop it, Ara.” He clutched both my hands in one of his and pinned them against my neck, forcing my head to the ground. “Don’t struggle.”
“Please,” I screeched, “Please just don’t undress me. I won’t fight. I promise. Drink from me, I don’t care.” I looked at Drake as Jason clenched the neckline of my dress. “Please?”
“Stop.” Drake squatted beside me, lifting his cloak a little as he did, revealing that he does, in fact, have feet. “You promise to lay still while they drink from you?”
I nodded, as much as I could with the cold stone under my head.
“Very well.” Drake stood again. “Jason, lift her dress. My council enjoy the thigh.”
I closed my eyes tight and pressed my arms into the floor beside me, rolling my head back firmly to the ground as Jason stood up from my body and touched the lace around my ankles. My jaw tightened—too tight to quiver—and warm, salty tears travelled down my temples, tickling my ears before dripping onto the floor.
“You better not move,” Jason said, and cool air kissed my shins, my knees and my inner thigh as he rolled my wedding dress over my hips and left my legs, my waist and my underwear exposed to the room of men—one of them being his own uncle.
Evil. So frickin’ evil.
My teeth bit hard in my mouth, fear taking me somewhere outside my body, but not far enough to feel nothing. Their shadows descended around me, filling the once empty space with gloom. I kept my eyes closed, my mind ignorant, leaving only my skin promised to their evil intentions.
From a touch at the base of my knees, they fingered their way across my skin—a doctor feeling for a hidden lump. I took a deep breath and held my squeal, forcing my nails into my palms.
Oh God, just get it over with.
Wet lips formed a seal around the soft flesh above my hipbones on both sides, and hair brushed along my legs, falling from the heads of those whose lips were there. Firm tongues licked the flesh first, so many, all at once. But the one by my left, his hands grappling my inner thigh, his finger worming against the elastic of my underwear, commanded all my attention.
Jason, please. Don’t let him touch me like that?
I waited but Jason did nothing, probably watching as this pervert abused the boundaries.
“Be swift, Councilmen,” Drake called. “We’ve tests to perform.”
The intruding finger inched away and tight, unwanted pressure of teeth broke the flesh. My nails pressed tighter into my palms, scraping ditches of raised skin. I focused on the sting in my hand—willing it to be the only pain.
And though I promised to lay still, I just couldn’t; my back arched and my legs stiffened, fighting internally, forcing myself not to kick, not to fight them off.
Fingers held tight but teeth loosened as my blood seeped out past the moaning on their lips. It hurt, but only the same as a human bite would; aching, pulsing, possibly bruising, but not stinging—not like Jason’s bite had last year.
Like a deflating balloon, each of my limbs relaxed when their hands dropped from my skin, their presence shifting from my aura.
A shadow hovered above my face; Jason stared down at me, his mouth agape, his eyes fixed on my lower half. I rolled up on my elbows and looked at my legs; purple bruises bubbled on the surface of my skin, droplets of red reeling, reversing into the wounds as they closed.
Silence filled the room, resting under the soft crackle of the roaring fire.
“Well, she’s a lot stronger than we imagined.” Drake stood motionless beside the council table.
Can I move yet?
I wanted to pull my dress down. Several of those creeps were glaring, too interested in my lower half.
My hand edged toward my skirt. Jason kicked it away, pressing my wrist to the floor with his heavy, black boot. I glared up at him, my teeth forcing together inside my mouth.
“Don’t you move,” he said bitterly, “Not until the king orders you to.”
One at a time, I lifted my knees and pressed them together, planting my feet to the ground.
I’m going to kill him if I ever get the chance.
Each breath in my chest tightened my throat with rage and my hands shook under the clench of my fingers.
“Right, well, I guess there is only one more preliminary test to perform,” Drake added, slumping down in the chair at the centre of the table. “Bring in the prisoner,” he called.
“What kinds of tests?”
“Ha!” he squeaked with humour. “What kinds?” He turned to the council. “What kinds, she asks. Oh, such a brave little girl to question a king.”
“You’re no king,” some stupid girl inside me said, running on nerves and adrenaline. “You’re just a man. I’m not afraid of you.”
“That’s only because you know not what I’m going to do to you,” he said, his mouth suddenly on the bridge of my nose, his words spitting through his stark white teeth. I drew a quick breath. “I’m going to make you cry. I’m going to make you scream, and if you satisfy my needs, I will eventually offer you the mercy of death.”
Drake shoved me to the ground; I tumbled like a heavy bag of clothes; my hands flew out as the force bent my weight into my elbows, just before my nose hit the ground. The dark shadow of the king lingered for a second, then tapered away, leaving me alone on the stone floor, like a dog.
My teeth tensed in the back of my mouth, my face angled to the ground—away from the eyes of the council.
I want to run away—to just get up and tell them I don’t want to play anymore. But this isn’t a game. And they won’t let me go. They got me, they did exactly what David told me to be afraid of, only now, it’s worse, because I’m equivalent to the creature they once so brutally destroyed.
“Jason?” The king said. “Undress her.”
“Undress her?” Jason looked at me.
“Yes. The council wish to taste her blood. Undress her.”
I rolled my face upward to meet Jason’s as he sauntered toward me, his arms still folded. With wide eyes and crawling skin, I shook my head, feeling the pinch of fear creep over me like nakedness. “Jason. Don’t. Please, don’t.”
He grabbed my wrist and threw me onto my back.
“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest, gripping my lace dress with unyielding desperation.
“Stop it, Ara.” He clutched both my hands in one of his and pinned them against my neck, forcing my head to the ground. “Don’t struggle.”
“Please,” I screeched, “Please just don’t undress me. I won’t fight. I promise. Drink from me, I don’t care.” I looked at Drake as Jason clenched the neckline of my dress. “Please?”
“Stop.” Drake squatted beside me, lifting his cloak a little as he did, revealing that he does, in fact, have feet. “You promise to lay still while they drink from you?”
I nodded, as much as I could with the cold stone under my head.
“Very well.” Drake stood again. “Jason, lift her dress. My council enjoy the thigh.”
I closed my eyes tight and pressed my arms into the floor beside me, rolling my head back firmly to the ground as Jason stood up from my body and touched the lace around my ankles. My jaw tightened—too tight to quiver—and warm, salty tears travelled down my temples, tickling my ears before dripping onto the floor.
“You better not move,” Jason said, and cool air kissed my shins, my knees and my inner thigh as he rolled my wedding dress over my hips and left my legs, my waist and my underwear exposed to the room of men—one of them being his own uncle.
Evil. So frickin’ evil.
My teeth bit hard in my mouth, fear taking me somewhere outside my body, but not far enough to feel nothing. Their shadows descended around me, filling the once empty space with gloom. I kept my eyes closed, my mind ignorant, leaving only my skin promised to their evil intentions.
From a touch at the base of my knees, they fingered their way across my skin—a doctor feeling for a hidden lump. I took a deep breath and held my squeal, forcing my nails into my palms.
Oh God, just get it over with.
Wet lips formed a seal around the soft flesh above my hipbones on both sides, and hair brushed along my legs, falling from the heads of those whose lips were there. Firm tongues licked the flesh first, so many, all at once. But the one by my left, his hands grappling my inner thigh, his finger worming against the elastic of my underwear, commanded all my attention.
Jason, please. Don’t let him touch me like that?
I waited but Jason did nothing, probably watching as this pervert abused the boundaries.
“Be swift, Councilmen,” Drake called. “We’ve tests to perform.”
The intruding finger inched away and tight, unwanted pressure of teeth broke the flesh. My nails pressed tighter into my palms, scraping ditches of raised skin. I focused on the sting in my hand—willing it to be the only pain.
And though I promised to lay still, I just couldn’t; my back arched and my legs stiffened, fighting internally, forcing myself not to kick, not to fight them off.
Fingers held tight but teeth loosened as my blood seeped out past the moaning on their lips. It hurt, but only the same as a human bite would; aching, pulsing, possibly bruising, but not stinging—not like Jason’s bite had last year.
Like a deflating balloon, each of my limbs relaxed when their hands dropped from my skin, their presence shifting from my aura.
A shadow hovered above my face; Jason stared down at me, his mouth agape, his eyes fixed on my lower half. I rolled up on my elbows and looked at my legs; purple bruises bubbled on the surface of my skin, droplets of red reeling, reversing into the wounds as they closed.
Silence filled the room, resting under the soft crackle of the roaring fire.
“Well, she’s a lot stronger than we imagined.” Drake stood motionless beside the council table.
Can I move yet?
I wanted to pull my dress down. Several of those creeps were glaring, too interested in my lower half.
My hand edged toward my skirt. Jason kicked it away, pressing my wrist to the floor with his heavy, black boot. I glared up at him, my teeth forcing together inside my mouth.
“Don’t you move,” he said bitterly, “Not until the king orders you to.”
One at a time, I lifted my knees and pressed them together, planting my feet to the ground.
I’m going to kill him if I ever get the chance.
Each breath in my chest tightened my throat with rage and my hands shook under the clench of my fingers.
“Right, well, I guess there is only one more preliminary test to perform,” Drake added, slumping down in the chair at the centre of the table. “Bring in the prisoner,” he called.
