Page 4 of Ink Sworn (Greatdrakes #3 | The Fae Universe #24)

Y elena had been sitting in the dank cell for weeks. They kept her away from Avallach and bound her in enchanted manacles to ensure she didn't shift. She could still feel a faint, low hum of magic, but it wouldn't be enough to send a message for help.

Soon. Soon. Soon.

Ice was rolling in her veins and her soul. It would take her under, and then she would have to trust that what she saw in her vision would come to pass.

The long bolts to the cell were thrown back, and two warriors dressed in furs appeared. Without a word, they unlocked the chains that were holding her to the wall. Her numb arms fell to her sides, and she was dragged forward.

She didn't bother to ask where they were taking her.

They wouldn't tell her anyway. They thought that not talking to her was going to torture her more.

They were idiots. Yelena had always enjoyed the silence.

It was being around others that gave her anxiety.

She never knew how to act, and it was exhausting .

Yelena was marched up dirty stone steps and out onto the crumbling battlements of the fort. It had surprised her that they hadn't tried to take her and Avallach to Brí Léith. Midir clearly trusted his general to get what they wanted, but not enough to risk having both of them in his seat of power.

Yelena had heard stories of Cathal. He was a true shapeshifter and Midir's master spy and interrogator.

He could break a person by shifting into the people his victims loved before he brought out his torture instruments.

He could become a bear berserker in a battle or turn into a fly and sit on the wall of a council chamber.

He was a spy, an executioner, a general… anything that Midir needed him to be.

Taranis had always had magical defenses around his fortress to ensure the only creatures that could take another form were born dragons because of Cathal's abilities.

Cathal had already tried torturing Yelena in the form of Taranis and then all his knights, one by one. He had even tried her own face. None of it had worked.

Cathal had never seen the only face that could have had a chance to break Yelena. If she had her way, he never would.

Today, the general wore his real face. Cathal was tall and lean like many of the fae, with a braid of black hair threaded with small feathers and bones.

His armor was bronze and black leather, and at first glance, he looked less wild than the warriors he commanded—until you looked into his eyes and saw the lack of a soul in them.

Yelena was thrown toward him, and she stumbled but managed to keep her feet under her.

"You are a mystery, little witch. It's not often I meet someone I can't break on the first day," Cathal said, biting into an apple.

There was a cage beside him attached to a long wooden arm that was bolted into the wall itself. It could make the cage be winched out to hang over the empty air and let the prisoner inside of it rot in their filth. Yelena straightened her shoulders and looked away from it.

Cathal smiled at her. "You know, I must ask Taranis what he does to train his knights to hold out so long. Your friend is much the same. So today I'm trying something new."

Cathal tossed the apple, grabbed Yelena by her braid, and dragged her to the wall of the battlements. Beneath her in the courtyard, a bloody Avallach had been tied up to a wooden post. He saw her through swollen eyes and grinned.

The afternoon they had been taken, when all of Midir's warriors had surrounded them, Yelena told him to trust her. That she saw a way out if they didn't break, and it looked like he was still trusting her.

Please let this work ...she prayed to any goddess that would listen.

"You can stop his suffering right now if you just give me what I want," Cathal demanded, shoving her roughly up against the stonework.

"All I need to know is who is the black dragon Midir keeps seeing in his visions?

We know it wasn't born in Faerie and isn't a part of Taranis's sniveling court.

Just a name, and we will let you both go. "

"I have not seen the black dragon you are referring to," Yelena said honestly. She had never seen him shift once. "The worlds are a big place, Cathal. I don't know every dragon."

Cathal's face twisted into a sneer, and he threw her hard to the stone floor. "Hold out her arm."

The warriors hurried to obey, the scent of the fear of their general coming off them in waves. Yelena struggled, more for show than anything. Her magic was screaming at her to fight, fight, fight .

Cathal freed his sharp sword, the edge resting on her forearm above her wrist. Yelena went still as it cut her enough to bleed.

"Tell me who the dragon is, or I will cut off your hand. I know you have some magical abilities. Will you be able to cast without your hand? I wonder..."

Yelena had wondered that too. It didn't matter. As long as they never got to him , none of it mattered.

Beneath her, she could hear Avallach screaming and cursing Cathal, trying to fight free of his bonds.

Yelena glared up at Cathal. "I have not seen the black dragon," she repeated. She would rather die than give the bastard a thing.

Avallach screamed again, and Cathal's sword came down. The magical manacles were temporarily down to one. Yelena's magic lashed out through blistering agony, sending Cathal and his warriors flying backward as she forced her message free.

So she could still do magic without her hand. Good to know.

Darkness was closing in on her as Cathal dragged her into the cage with its magical binding bars.

They had been too slow to get her in there.

Her magic had been free long enough that the coldness she had been holding tight had burst free like a dam breaking.

Frost spread from the bleeding stump of her arm before sweeping across her body.

Valentine...find me... she whispered in her mind, before shutting her eyes and letting the ice close over her.