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This time he used his fist, cracking it across her face. She tasted blood mixing with the bile in her mouth.

“Who leads the resistance. Are they who saved you?”

“Not. Telling. You,” she spit out, along with the blood.

He delivered a sharp kick to her side.

“Why did you kidnap Fox? What information were you hoping to get?”

She didn’t bother answering this time and the next hit came faster. The chains pulled at her wrists, chafing the skin as her body jerked against her control. She focused on the sensation, blocking out the pain radiating through her side and back. She felt her tunic being torn away, the bite of the whip against her skin. Her back was wet with blood and she wondered if the new scars would simply blend in with the old.

She closed her eyes and let the scent of her own blood take her back to her time in the ruins, praying at the dragons’ altar.

She prayed now. Perhaps the dragons no longer protected her people. Perhaps they worked for the king now, but she wouldn’t give up on her faith.

“Father—”

Fox’s voice broke her from her thoughts, and she hated him for it. She was happy lost there.

Their voices were slurred or perhaps that was her own head, but she could just hear bits and pieces.

“—not working—not answering.”

“—know—do it yourself?—”

She looked up, vision blurred to see Fox gripping his father’s wrist hard, stopping him from bringing the whip down again. Even as she watched, his father’s fist crashed against the side of Fox’s face, sending him to the floor.

“Leave.”

“Father—“

“Everyone, leave,” he said, motioning to his son. “Take him with you. I wish to question the prisoner alone.”

She might have heard some argument, but between one blink and the next the room was empty. Almost empty. The general towered over her, leaning on a cane.

It was polished to a shine, unnecessarily she thought, given its purpose.

“You’re back,” he said, noticing her focus. “Good.” He stepped forward and lifted her chin with the tip of the cane. The wood was cold against her skin and she glared up at the man that had haunted her nightmares for so many cycles.

“You were out in the rainforest. What did you see?”

The question was vague and seemingly harmless, but there was a glint of something in the general’s eyes that told her he didn’t care about the cenotes they found or even the wolfshifters.

“I saw trees and animals. What else would there be?”

The words were slurred, but she kept her eyes sharp, watching the tic of frustration along his jaw.

“I know it was you, somehow,” he hissed. “You brought thatthingback. How did you do it?”

He was talking about the dragon.

“Did my son see?” Something like fear tinged his words.

“The trees?” she said, spitting out more blood. “He’s blind and stupid, but I don’t imagine he missed them.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he hissed, face only few inches from her own and she wondered if she could bite him before he jerked back.

“Say it, then,” she said through gritted teeth. “Ask what you really want to ask.”