Page 44 of Sweet Venom Of Time (Blade of Shadows #6)

Chapter Seventeen

AMIR

I hung there, the cold iron chains biting deep into my wrists, each link a cruel tether to my suffering. The pain was no longer a fleeting sensation—it had settled into my bones, a endless specter whispering of my fragility.

The stench of my blood thickened the air, mingling with the damp rot of the torture chamber—a sickly reminder of the torment Mathias had unleashed upon me.

His knives, thin as whispers, had carved wounds into my flesh, each stroke a signature of his cruelty.

His brands, heated in the inferno of his hatred, had seared my skin, marking me with the fire of vengeance.

The whips had sung against my back, embedding their venom deep into my flesh, while hammers crashed against stone—a symphony of agony played for his twisted pleasure.

Yet, through it all, one name throbbed like a heartbeat through my soul.

Elizabeth.

Her voice—as soft as a dying ember. Her eyes—alight with defiance, with warmth. She was the balm to the brutality, the tether that kept me from succumbing to the abyss.

My heart clenched—not from pain, but from a love so deep, so fierce, it became the only force capable of defying the gravity of this hell.

With every strike, every act of cruelty Mathias devised, I withdrew into myself, retreating into the sanctuary of my memories. I clung to them as a soldier clung to his last weapon, even when my body begged for surrender.

I was chained, but I was not broken.

I would not grant Mathias the satisfaction.

Centuries of discipline, of training my mind to bend but never break, stood as my last defense. Pain became a distant echo, a dull roar at the edges of my consciousness, something to be acknowledged and dismissed.

But my body told another story.

Bruised. Beaten. Lacerated.

Every breath was a battle; each inhale laced with the taste of iron and misery. My torso—a grotesque canvas of purples and raw reds—bore the brutal artistry of Mathias’ torture.

But I would not be destroyed.

For Elizabeth. For Solaris. For all that I had lost and all that remained to be saved.

The pain might erode my body, but my spirit was an impervious citadel, an unshaken fortress built upon rebellion. And from that indomitable will, I found the strength to whisper her name through bloodied lips.

“Elizabeth.”

My vision swam, the chamber walls closing in, suffocating. But then—her face. Emerging through the haze of agony, soft eyes, quiet strength, the only oasis in this desert of torment.

I clung to that image, forged myself into something unbreakable.

The heavy door groaned open.

A shadow loomed.

Mathias.

He stepped forward, surveying his work with twisted satisfaction. “Look at you, Amir. All broken. All powerless.”

His voice dripped with disdain, the words slithering into the cold air like a death sentence.

I lifted my head, tasting blood and insolence.

“You’re wrong.”

With grim determination, I gathered the crimson pooling in my mouth and spat it at his feet—blood, teeth, and the last remnants of anything he thought he had taken from me.

“I may be chained, Mathias, but that won’t stop me. I will destroy your society. I will tear down everything you’ve built.”

Thunderous laughter.

Mocking. Deafening.

“Bold words for a man in chains,” he taunted. “You don’t understand, do you? You’re already finished.”

I let out a slow, ragged exhale, a bloody grin carving across my battered face.

“Is that what you think?”

Pain laced every word, but I savored it—a reminder that I was still here, still breathing, still fighting.

I studied him through swollen eyes, drinking in his arrogance, his belief that he had already won.

Then, I shattered it.

“I see the bigger picture, Mathias.” I let the words settle and sink into his carefully curated certainty. “I know you’re working with Salvatore. I know everything. You want to reclaim Solaris and rule it with darkness.”

And for the first time—his mask cracked.

It was there, a flicker of uncertainty.

His breath hitched—a subtle shift.

His voice was no longer dripping with absolute confidence. “You have your memories from Solaris?”

“I do.”

Each word was a battle, yet I forced them past the rawness in my throat. “You thought it was Balthazar who destroyed your School of Darkness. But it was me. I’ve been one step ahead of you this whole time, and I will continue to tear down every single one of your Timehunter societies.”

Mathias stepped closer, his instruments of agony glinting menacingly in the dim light. “You’ll regret those words.”

But I held his gaze, unflinching. “You’re terrified, Mathias. You and Salvatore both. Because you know when the end comes, Lazarus and I will claim Solaris. And when we do, you’ll be nothing more than a forgotten name in a history of failures.”

His expression darkened, but his voice remained cool, dismissive. “Salvatore is more powerful than Lazarus. You will never defeat him.”

I exhaled, every breath laced with pain, but I refused to let him see weakness.

“We shall see whose power prevails.”

Mathias chuckled, a low, mirthless sound. “Says the man chained to the wall, at my mercy.”

“Mathias,” I spat, the taste of iron thick on my tongue. “You act as if I know nothing. But do you understand why you’ve always despised me?”

The chains rattled as I shifted against the stone, the metal biting into raw flesh. “It’s jealousy in its most elemental form. In Solaris, I was chosen to lead the House of Darkness, to command the Army of Darkness. Me. Not you.”

I let the words hang between us, a blade honed from the truth.

“Zara chose Balthazar over you. And you’ve never recovered from that. You were always the pawn, Mathias—never the mastermind, or leader.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Rage flickered deep in his eyes, barely restrained.

I smirked through my pain. “I will find a way to obliterate everything you’ve corrupted.”

Mathias’ face twisted in fury. His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.

“I will kill you myself, Amir,” he seethed. “But not before I let everyone witness your demise.”

His voice rang out like the toll of a funeral bell. Cold. Final.

I exhaled, slowly, a bloody grin lingering on my lips.

“Your arrogance blinds you,” I rasped, my breaths shallow but determined.

“In the end, it is you who will fall.”

Mathias chuckled, the sound hollow and drenched in mockery.

“Really? You believe you and Lazarus are a step ahead?” His dark and cruel laughter echoed in the chamber.

“The evil queen has been reborn. My daughter, Alina, controls Balthazar. And Queen Isabelle? King Armand?” He leaned in, his breath thick with triumph.

“They’re gone. Killed by my hand. And they won’t be returning. Ever again.”

His words should have been a dagger, slicing through my resolve. But instead, I laughed—a brittle, bitter sound that rattled through my broken ribs. As my body screamed in protest, I let the laughter spill forth, mocking.

“You think you have everything figured out,” I grated, spitting blood at his feet. “But in the end, we will prevail. And you…” My gaze locked onto his, unflinching. “You will die.”

Mathias’ expression darkened, twisted by fury.

A storm unleashed.

Pain struck like a whipcrack—his hand moving in a blurred arc, sending fresh agony rippling through my battered frame. I choked on the sensation, my body convulsing against the chains, but I did not break.

And then—the poison.

He administered another dose. A searing fire in my veins promised a torturous descent into oblivion.

I bit down hard, refusing to cry out.

Then—another voice, cutting through the haze.

“Mathias.”

Ice-cold. Commanding.

Lord Alexander stepped forward, his aura heavy and oppressive, magnifying the dread that thickened the air. His fingers caressed the cat-o’-nine tails, the leather tassels whispering against one another like serpents, hissing in anticipation.

His lips curled into a cruel smirk. “Shall we indulge in some entertainment with our prisoner?”

“I would not dream of denying you pleasure,” Mathias murmured, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I want to savor this.”

And then it began anew.

A symphony of suffering orchestrated with a conductor’s precision.

They struck with methodical cruelty, each lash, each blow, calculated—not just to hurt, but to unravel me.

The room became a blur of agony, the walls pulsing, shifting, darkening, until I could no longer tell where I ended and the pain began.

And then, finally, they left.

I hung there, a marionette with its strings cut, my body broken, my breath ragged.

But I was still breathing.

Still alive.

Because surrender was a luxury I could not afford.

Even in the suffocating dark, as despair threatened to devour me whole?—

A single ember of defiance still flickered within me.

Time had become an enemy, stretching each second into an eternity of anguish. The cold stone of the torture chamber leeched the last remnants of warmth from my body, leaving me shivering, brittle, and alone with my torment.

Pain was my constant companion, whispering lies of defeat, coiling around me like a serpent, constricting, suffocating.

And then?—

A sound.

Soft, almost imperceptible.

A rustling, like the wind stirring the dust of forgotten ruins.

My battered heart, beaten into silence by agony, stuttered to life.

Elizabeth.

She seeped into the room like a salve against the raw edges of my spirit.

“Amir?”

Her voice was fragile, a delicate thread weaving through the suffocating air of the chamber.

“Oh, Amir… what have they done?”

Her sobs broke against the walls, the sound carrying her anguish, her despair. She looked at me—eyes wide with horror, with disbelief, with a grief so deep it hollowed the space between us.

“What have they done to you?” she cried again.

I tried to move, every muscle in my body protesting, screaming.

Through the blur of my pain-clouded vision, I saw her—a wraith of hope and desperation, shimmering in the dark.

I forced my lips to move, my voice barely more than a whisper cracked and broken.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Elizabeth ignored me.

With trembling hands, she retrieved a damp cloth from the folds of her skirt, gently dabbing at the blood and bruises marring my skin. Each touch was a whisper of tenderness against the brutality that had carved itself into me.

“Oh, Amir,” she gasped, her voice laced with heartache, tears slipping down her pale cheeks. “I swear on everything I hold dear, I will make my father pay for this. For every wound. For every moment of suffering.”

“Shhh, my love,” I said through my battered lips. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I had to.”

Her hands cupped my face, light as a feather yet heavy with unspoken promises. “I couldn’t leave you like this.”

I clenched my jaw, mustering what little strength I had left. “Go! Do not stay.” My voice, though weak, held the urgency of a dying man.

This place was no sanctuary for angels; it was a pit for monsters and martyrs.

But Elizabeth—fierce, unrelenting, my light in the dark—refused to yield.

“No!” she snapped, her voice clinging to fury and desperation. “I am here to save you! To heal you!”

My name trembled on her lips, and when she pulled me into her arms, I nearly collapsed against her warmth.

I should have resisted. I should have fought against the comfort she offered.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

“Elizabeth…” My voice wavered a broken plea. “You can’t be here. They will return. Any moment now, they will come back to continue their work.”

Images of them—their twisted faces, their insatiable cruelty—flashed through my mind, burning behind my eyes with merciless force.

I swallowed hard, my breath shuddering.

“I… I am a monster.”

The words spilled from me, raw, tainted with shame.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from them.”

The words sat heavy on my tongue, laced with guilt, poisonous in their truth.

The weight of my failure crushed down on me, suffocating me.

But she didn’t recoil.

She didn’t flinch.

She only held me tighter.

Her fierce blue eyes burned with an intensity that made the pain momentarily fade—a fire, raging against the darkness that sought to consume us both.

“No.”

The word cut through the air, a command laced with steel.

“Stop saying that.”

Her grip tightened as if she could hold me together through sheer force of will.

“I will fight alongside you. If you are trapped here, I will take the battle to them. We will tear those men down together and reclaim our freedom.”

A bitter chuckle rattled through me, tinged with something dangerously close to despair.

“You have no idea what you’re saying.”

The words felt cruel, but they had to be.

I lifted my head, forcing her to see the truth in my battered face, in the blood that stained the floor beneath me.

“They don’t just want to kill me, Elizabeth. They want to make an example out of me.”

My voice was raw, hoarse, laced with something darker than pain—acceptance.

“They want to break me, display my ruin for the world. They want to prove that the Black Wraith is nothing more than a shattered man, a whisper of rebellion crushed beneath their boots.”

The truth was a blade slicing deeper than any of Mathias’ torturous instruments ever could.

But the thought of losing her—of her standing in their line of fire—was a wound I knew I wouldn’t survive.

I needed to make her leave.

For good.

Before it was too late.