Page 8 of Claimed By Shadow and Blood (Of Fae and Wolf Trilogy #2)

Chapter Four

Briar

M y heart galloped as fear tried to strangle me, but I refused to look away from the fae's dead eyes. The corner of my lips stung where he’d dug in his claw, but I forced myself not to react.

He wanted me to be afraid and to beg, but I would never . My wolf snarled inside, inching forward, readying for whatever head-twatwaffle had in store.

No.

Twatwaffles were the guards who’d brought me here. This man had more of an edge and was sadistic; henceforth, I’d called him Douchewaffle.

I hung my head. I was channeling my inner Thalen, but I needed an outlet that didn’t involve crying.

“No answer results in the same punishment as the wrong one,” Douchewaffle rasped with a crooked smile.

His previous questions echoed in my head.

Why did you kill the king? Or shall I hurt you further?

No matter what I said, he’d torture me, even if I lied and said I did it.

“I would never harm the king, so do what you want to me.” I set my jaw, knowing that pretty soon I’d be in so much pain I’d wish I were dead.

A humorless smile pressed across his lips.

“You have never been a visitor to these sacred halls, so allow me to introduce myself. I am Colm Ainle, Chief Interrogator. I recommend you cooperate in this matter. Failure to do so will result in exceptionally uncomfortable results for you. These interrogation chambers boast many rooms that excel at loosening the tongues of those who think themselves above it. Why not save yourself the agony of it all and confess?”

“Well, I’m Briar, and there’s nothing I need to confess. I didn’t kill the king, but whoever did is still out there, so you’re wasting your time focusing on the wrong person instead of hunting down the people involved.”

He swiftly lifted his hand and moved it toward me as if to strike me. My body tensed, but before I could flinch away, my wolf snarled and took enough control to hold me in place.

Douchewaffle scowled before he schooled his expression.

I gritted my teeth, hating that I’d almost given the bastard what he wanted.

The warmth that had taken residence within me flared, matching the pulsing of the butterfly-flame wings of the tattoo on top of my hand.

Fate had placed the tattoo to mark me for the bridal competition. Had it also marked me for this too?

The ropes dug into my wrists, which was a blessing in disguise. When he tortured me, I would focus on that pain instead of whatever he was doing to me.

His hand stopped just in front of my face.

Tilting my chin upward, I didn’t break eye contact with him.

Lips twisting into a cruel smirk, he chuckled. “Cheeky. Now that’s a trait I will enjoy breaking. I don’t actually have to lay a finger on you to make you talk, and you will talk, my dear.”

“I’m happy to talk, but I refuse to lie.” There was no way I’d admit to something I didn’t do, especially killing the king. I’d rather die by torture than have Vad hear that I admitted to hurting someone he loved. I wouldn’t break, for him and for myself.

His eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head, studying me with a clinical expression.

“I’m merely asking for the truth that I need to hear and for information about your so-called shadow-beast changing ability, among other things.

And, most importantly, your confession regarding the king’s assassination.

Start wherever you like, or…” He held up his hands, and this time, smoke smoldered from his fingertips, and the claws turned gold, then silver, then dull gray as before.

Streams of gray resembling dying gasps of a fire licked from his skin and stank like an acrid combination of burning hair and rot, as if he’d pulled magic right out of a corpse. The space between us folded inward, choking off air, pressing heat and cold into the same unbearable point.

His cold laughter echoed in my skull. “It only gets worse from here.”

I pressed my lips together firmly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another sound. My wolf snarled, and the strange, warm magic inside me sputtered before diminishing. A lump formed in my throat, and I blinked back the tears burning my eyes.

The air wavered like a mirage, and the lines of the room blurred. All of a sudden, my body seemed to be ripping apart. Nausea lurched in my stomach, and the worst physical agony I’d ever experienced lanced through me.

Just when I thought I couldn’t handle any more of it, the pain eased.

My breathing turned ragged, but I refused to let him know how much he’d harmed me. I channeled my sister, Ember, and did the very thing I knew she’d do to anyone trying to break her—I raised my head and met his eyes.

He wrinkled his nose, and then pain shot through me again, as if the bits that had been torn apart were slamming into each other and trying to fit themselves back together. Acid burned my throat as my breath constricted and my wolf howled.

He tilted his head and rocked back on his heels. “Why did you kill the king?” He tapped his fingers in the air, and with each movement, something seemed to slice into my lungs. I bit the inside of my mouth to prevent the cries trying to leave my body.

“Confession is good for the soul. So, why waste both of our time? Tell me what I want to hear.” He lowered his face in front of mine, his rank breath striking my nostrils as he spoke slowly.

“You probably think you’re being quite brave, but let me be clear—this is only the beginning .

It gets worse from here unless you cooperate.

You don’t have to say much. Admitting that you did kill the king will be sufficient to keep this from escalating. ”

My muscles clenched tight as I struggled against the painful bindings digging into my skin. I channeled the fae version of the profanity. “Feck you!” Each word took so much effort that my head spun.

His eyebrows flicked upward, and he stepped back. He traced a finger through the air in a languid motion and then flicked it at my chest. “You’re delaying. We all know you killed him.” The scent of eggs and sulfur slammed into me, and this time, it wasn’t from his breath.

My heart skipped a beat. Either he didn’t truly know whether or not I was the murderer, or he knew I wasn’t but wanted to frame me. Either way, he’d just lied.

Just as I opened my mouth to confront him, the oxygen in the air seemed to thin, and my head spun. My lungs burned as if filled with acid, and I gasped, but nothing filled them. The invisible blades twisted deeper, slicing through my thoughts until I couldn't tell the ceiling from the floor.

My wolf surged forward, lending me strength, her presence a warm barrier between my consciousness and the torture.

Her howls echoed inside me. Ember’s face flashed into my mind, and I drew comfort and strength from the memory of her.

Screams of agony joined the howls, pulling Ember away from me.

The yips and howls sounded like the cries I’d heard months ago, when Ember’s and my family pack had been slaughtered.

This didn’t make sense. My new pack and I had defeated the vampires. But then I noticed I was in our home pack neighborhood, surrounded by the corpses of all the loved ones I’d left behind to die during the first vampire attack, ending with Dad and Mom.

My wolf whimpered as guilt and torment spread like dirt being thrown on top of me.

“Tragedy always follows you, doesn’t it? You aren’t the one who does the saving, but you are the one who causes the problems.”

Once again, the scent of the lie hit me, adding to my misery.

Douchewaffle’s voice slithered against my skin. “You killed the king. Let me help you remember.”

The scent thickened—another lie.

Heat exploded behind my eyes, and I watched myself standing between the fountain and King Merrick in the garden.

He scowled at me and gestured with a gnarled hand, and I yelled at him.

The words were vague, and I knew I had never spoken them.

I caught vicious and competition . Then a dagger flashed in my hand, and the king fell back a step, his eyes widening with alarm.

I lunged at him and plunged the dagger into his chest.

Then the image faded, leaving me back in the present.

No!

That wasn’t real.

None of that happened.

Douchewaffle had to be using some sort of fae magic to convince me that I had killed the king.

I clenched my eyes shut tighter. Pain sliced through me again and pulsed in my veins. A scream tore out of me as I writhed and struggled while my wolf howled and surged forward, trying to help me break free.

We had to escape.

I had to tell Vad I hadn’t done this and get back to Ember.

Vad .

The dark expression he’d worn as he’d watched me being dragged off to prison flashed in my mind. His stormy gray eyes had radiated a mixture of pure rage, confusion, and grief.

“Tell me what you see.” Douchewaffle’s breath puffed against my cheek.

I forced my eyes open, and tears streamed down my cheeks. “A creepy dumbass standing in front of me.” My voice shook, but I wasn’t going to let him win anything more than I could help.

“You think you’re so brave and cute. But I’m done holding back.”

He curled his fingers in front of my face, and my entire body tightened. All the horrible feelings began to build again, like floodwaters behind a dam that refused to let down.

Horrible things circled in my head. My pack destroyed. Vad’s hatred growing with his belief that I’d murdered his father. Thalen turning on me because the truth was too hard to believe. And then the false image of the king scowling at me returned.