Page 130 of I Dream of Dragons

The flagellator hesitates, his arm arrested mid-air. I struggle to funnel my power, but out of the water, still weak from having almost died, my mind tearing me in all different directions, I’m not sure I can stop this nightmare from unfolding.

And then a howling fills my head, robbing me of all conscious thought. It’s an ululation, strident and piercing, occasionally dropping into a vibration that makes my eyes throb, then rising again, filled with fury and accusation. It has a rhythm that pounds against the inside of my skull, a war drum, but above it flows this relentless wave of sound that is driving me crazy.

I find myself on my knees, retching, my back on fire, my head a mass of pain.

Above the noise, I hear—or feel?—the sound of each lash falling on Jai’s back.

And then the king shouts, “Phaethon! Can you hear me?”

“Fuck you.” Jai spits a wad of blood and phlegm. He must have bitten his tongue not to scream. “Fuck you to the pits of the underworlds.”

“Another twenty lashes,” the king says.

“No!” I wail. “Enough!”

“Come on.” Arkin hauls me to my feet and pulls me away. I’m too shaken to resist this time.

“He will die,” I sob. “He will die!”

“He won’t. Told you, he’s a hard one to kill. Not sure his mind won’t break, but that’s nothing new.”

“Arkin, you’re not helping.”

“I know. Come on. You’re covered in his blood.”

I hadn’t realized it had splashed me. I shiver. He’s my mate. He’s Mars. And the first thing that happened when I found out was that he was tied to a pole and lashed half to death.

Another lash falls.

Another line of fire cuts into my back.

I shouldn’t be feeling his pain so acutely, should I? Our bond isn’t complete, nor will it ever be as long as I have the king’s mark on my skin. What changed?

“Phaethon!” the king calls out again when the lash stops its gruesome toil. “Astar!”

Jai groans, his head falling forward. Sweat and blood are dripping from his soaked black hair. “Stop yelling, my head really hurts.”

“Another ten lashes,” the king snarls.

“This is insane,” I shout. “You don’t need this to call Phaethon!”

“Then how would you call him forth, human?” The king bares his teeth at me. “Let us see you do it.”

I shake my head, my eyes hot. “Phaethon won’t appreciate you torturing Jai after?—”

“Phaethon hates you. He hates all humanfolk.” He snaps his fingers at the flagellator who lifts the whip again. “You have no idea what he’d appreciate.”

The burly man is also splashed with blood, his arms, face, and beard painted crimson, the whip dripping with it. I quail at the thought of seeing Jai’s back, of how much pain he must be in. He has to be in agony if the echoes I’m getting are any indication.

“Phaethon!” the king calls a third time. “Show yourself or I might just kill this vessel of yours.”

“No!” I scream and struggle to get back to Jai. “Stop!”

But Arkin hauls me further away, and in the wake of my scream, a hush falls.

The flagellator is holding the whip up high. Its tails are dripping blood. Jai’s blood. Somehow that tiny sound is augmented, filling my ears.

Drip, drip, drip.