Page 47 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Demon

The metal of my chains clank against the concrete wall. They ring loud in my ears, but nothing can drown out the whispers of Achaz’s son, Aurelius.

His hot breath bathes the side of my face, igniting the cold perspiration clinging to my flesh. I hold my shudder and force my body to still despite the maddening agony writhing through my muscles and threading through my bones.

“You can be our whore now since you felt so inclined to steal the last one.”

My fists clench above me, tightening the cuffs around my wrists until they cut into my skin. Blood trickles down my forearms and races towards the bend in my arms. I watch the crimson trail, desperate to focus on anything other than Aurelius’ palm curling around my cock.

“You sick fuck.”

He chuckles to himself.

“Liking the torture we gift you.”

I slam my forehead into the stone I face until my forehead numbs and blood wells in my eyes. Once, twice, and again. Only to be caught by the strands of my hair before I can knock myself clean out. I can’t help the groan that escapes as my heart sinks in disappointment. I don’t want to be awake for what comes next.

Now, my head pounds and the room spins, and I’m still very much aware of my pants dropping to my ankles. Every nerve in my body sings like it’s on fire, urging me to fight back, but every bit of me aches. The tear in my Achilles to keep me useless, the rattle of bones in my ribcage, the agony of my shoulders popping from their sockets from too many hours strung above my head.

And now, the devastation of my dignity stripped whole from within. Stolen like it was nothing more than fruit on a platter ready for the taking.

With each thrust inside of me, I crawl deeper into the darkness of my mind where nothing exists. Not these monsters, not the excruciating state of my body, not even the distant memories of a certain green-eyed angel.

No, anything but the present and anything but her. Not while I’m used and broken like a pathetic demon from Hell. How ironic, the only torment I’ve known in all of my existence has been doled out in Primordialis of all places. A world holier than Heaven. If I even had a breath to spare, I’d laugh at the absurdity.