Page 81 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

She’s right… My cheeks burn as if I had been slapped across the face. I can’t bear to look at this any longer. I storm out of the room right past them. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re no fun,”the Boar says, giggling at my reaction.

“If you leave, you’re going to miss out on the best part,”the Vulture drawls her last word.

“The best part?”

“Come and find out,”she calls over her shoulder, pushing the door to the next room.

A man stands in the middle of the room. My eyes snare to the black ink swirling along his taut muscles, from his hands to his neck and down to his back.

Svenn?

His hair is longer, without the buzzed cut at the sides. I never knew he had tattoos. I try to take in the intricate designs one at a time. They are etched on his body like a story.

My husband is beautiful, ethereal, simply out of this world. The chains on his wrists rattle, reminding me that this is a hellish nightmare.

There is nothing in the room but a burning fireplace and the manacles, shackling Svenn in place.

A brunette lady approaches him from behind. My heart begins to race the moment I realize this is the Vulture’s memory. She adorns a similar colored dress as the Boar with heavy layers and a slight alteration to the style. It’s almost as if Lilith manages to insert her will on her heirs even on the most basic of choices.

Svenn can easily rip the metal bindings anchored to the ground, but he doesn’t. The curse bearer must have commanded him to stay right where he is.

The Vulture brushes the tip of her fingers on his shoulder, circling him in a way that reflects her namesake.

“Do not touch me,” he warns her again.

She remains unfazed by his rejection. I inhale another breath just to keep myself from falling.

“What is it going to be this time?” A cruel smile spreads across her face as she presented him with the choices. “Fire or my soft hand.”

“Fire.” His voice cracks and so does my heart.

“So be it.”

She backs away towards a lever.

“You might want to step aside,”the Vulture’s apparition whispers to me.

It takes a while for me to notice the large cauldron hanging right above Svenn.

No, no, no.

She pulls the lever, and boiling water pours on top of Svenn.

My legs slacken and I crumble to the floor.

“It’s hotter than normal because I added salt to it. You might feel a little tingle on that,” she says, picking up a poker from the fireplace.

A whistle slips from her lips as she moves to his back. Fear winds its way around my pounding heart. I don’t watch but I hear and smell the brand singing his skin.

Svenn doesn’t scream despite the horror she unleashed upon him. He doesn’t even bend his knee.

I cry and cry and cry.

“Do not mind the grotesque sight, elf queen. This one is a bit harder to tame.”The Boar sighs, shaking her head in dismay.

I watch in horror as the Rhunhraefn restores Svenn’s skin slowly.