Page 80 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Eighty

LENA

A sael slowly turned toward me.

“You…” he whispered. “You're real.”

I frowned. “I'm not sure what that means, but you need to get me out of here!”

Asael swallowed. “The directions I was given…they—”

Asael quickly shut his mouth when the iron door creaked open, and a large, muscular form strode in.

Asael had to be around 5'9". This other man, however, was well over six feet. His face was rough, sadistic even. I could sense his wickedness by the way his grin curved when he looked at me.

“Ah, this is the ginger-bitch with the answers we need,” Cedric commented, giving me a once over.

I lifted my chin, glaring at him with disdain.

His smile morphed into a nefarious frown. “Where is the Weapon?”

There was that question again. One I myself still did not know.

Ulric wanted the Weapon for himself—feared it.

“Even if I did know,” I spat, “what makes you think I'd tell you?”

Cedric crossed his tanned arms. “We have ways of getting answers out of you.”

I let out a low laugh. “Do you have any idea what kind of King you serve? Do you know what he really is?”

Cedric's jaw tensed. “Go if you can’t handle it, Asael.”

Asael just stared at me before saying quietly, “You’d lay a hand on a woman, Cedric?”

Cedric snorted, turning to glower at Asael. “She is a witch, not a woman.” To that, he turned, and his fist met my cheek in one hard blow. My face whipped to the side, stars clouding my vision. I clenched my fists, wishing I could break free from these chains.

Cedric was laughing, and as I slowly turned my head back, I met Asael’s eyes.

There was so much communication in our unspoken words—in our eye contact.

“I don’t believe in the ways of my people,” he seemingly said with his expression.

What a hero you are.

“I’d stop it if I could.”

Shall I give you a medal?

“Where is the Weapon?” Cedric crooned as he crouched before me, caressing my face. My lip curled, but I held Asael’s gaze.

“Just tell him,” his eyes pleaded.

Leave if you can’t take it .

His caramel eyes narrowed, and Cedric clicked his tongue as he stood, seemingly walking away before turning back and sucker-punching me again.

A small cry escaped my lips at the pain, my head pounding from the blow. I tasted iron and was worried one of my teeth had come loose. Dragging my tongue along each one, all still being in place, I returned my stare to Asael, spitting blood on the floor.

“She’s a feisty one,” Cedric commented, eyes wild as he studied the damage he had caused.

“What do you know of King Ulric?” Asael asked slowly.

Cedric shot him an annoyed look, but Asael kept his brown eyes on me.

I spat what blood had pooled in my mouth to my left. “I know that he is the necromancer plaguing our lands. The God of Deceit.”

Asael’s eyes flared, and Cedric barked out a theatrical laugh. “Out of all ridiculous claims you could’ve made, that one was most unexpected.”

I breathed heavily. “It makes perfect sense. He kills Mages in his kingdom, lugs their dead bodies to his dungeons, and has been raising a fucking army this entire time.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And all you prejudiced bastards are ensuring your own doom in doing so.”

Asael’s chest heaved with each breath, his cheeks slightly flushed. Cedric gave him an eyeroll. “Don’t believe a word she’s saying. She hasn’t even had her fingernails ripped off yet.” He gave me a sadistic grin. “That’s when the real truths come out.”

I did my best to school my expression and steady my rapid breathing and my increasing pulse.

I knew by now that they planned on torturing me. I just needed to stay alive long enough to figure out how to get out of here…or stay alive long enough for Asael to free me. Maybe even connect with Kayin if it was possible somehow.

Cedric walked toward me, and I flinched when he grabbed my fingers. “Such pretty little hands,” he noted. “Too bad.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to overflow, as I heard him step away, fumbling with whatever tool he was going to use to remove my nails. I had noticed the tray of tools earlier, but I purposely chose not to study it.

I will not break.

“Cedric,” Asael said quickly. “Let me talk to her.”

Cedric scoffed. “Your heart is going to get you killed, Asael. These are not people.”

I slowly opened my eyes, tears spilling down my cheeks. Cedric inched closer, thin shards of bamboo in his hands, a hammer in the other. My eyes darted to Asael’s, and I knew I no longer hid my look of desperation.

“Let me talk to her,” Asael gritted out, grasping Cedric's shoulder.

“Leave, Asael. You’re clearly too much of a pansy to be of any use.” Cedric let out a whistle, and two men entered.

Asael shot me a panicked gaze, and my face crumpled only for a moment before I glared at Cedric.

“Last chance, Lena Daelyra. Where is the Weapon?” He nodded his head to one of the men, who walked over and held my hand down. Cedric positioned the bamboo at the start of my nail, his other hand readying the hammer.

I will not break.

Asael went to rush forward, but the other soldier gripped him.

“Let me go!” he protested, but the man only held him tighter .

My breathing became labored, my entire body trembling with fear. But I kept Asael’s gaze. One person. That was all it would take to set me free. One person witnessing my humanity. One person caring.

Cedric clicked his tongue. “Too bad,” he repeated, and he hammered the bamboo shard under my nail.

I shrieked in agony as the bamboo tore through, the pain so horrific I thought I might puke. I couldn't look at my hand, even though I knew the force had ripped my nail completely off.

I will not break.

I hated that I cried. Hated that the men laughed, all but Asael. I lifted my teary eyes to his, his own glassy, a look of horror on his features as he glared at Cedric.

Cedric paid him no mind and went to position the next shard. “Where is the Weapon?” he repeated.

I will not break.

Another wave of dread, and the shard was through, a guttural cry leaving my chest.

“Let me talk to her, dammit!” Asael’s voice was hoarse as he begged.

“Vince, take him out of here,” Cedric ordered as he began to position another piece of bamboo. I was trembling now, my teeth clenching down hard as I awaited the loss of another nail.

“Hold her still, Lance.”

And any shred of hope disappeared the moment Asael was pulled out of the room.

Cedric grinned. “No one here to advocate for you now,” he taunted.

I will not break.

“No, you will not, my dear. ”

I blinked rapidly. Was someone speaking to me in my head?

I was hoping to hear from Kayin, but this voice was masculine. Familiar. Not Torrin. Not Igon.

My vision was blurry from all the tears, from the stars in my vision, but just behind Cedric stood a man.

I couldn't make out his face, only the bright white light swirling around his limbs.

I blinked over and over. His hair was dark brown, and his skin was fair—I could tell that much. His eyes glowed the same color as the magic surrounding his arms…magic as bright as moonlight.

I let out a breathy whisper. “Who are you?”

Lance and Cedric's brows drew together, and they glanced over their shoulders.

Lance snorted. “Looks like the pain is causing her to hallucinate.”

I kept my eyes on the mysterious man. His gaze drifted over the two men, his lip curling.

I wailed as the last nail on my right hand was removed.

“Where. Is. The. Weapon?”

“Rot in hell.” I spat right in Cedric's face. That made the man with the white glow's lips turn upward.

“I guess you require more drastic measures.”

The glowing man began to fade.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

The unknown man's gaze raked over me. “When you figure that out, you will be freed.”

“Wait! WAIT!” I cried.

“She’s lost it entirely,” Cedric chortled.

I begged for the stranger to come back, but he didn’t. Not as my remaining nails were removed .

Not as a branding iron was brought out. Not as it was pressed flush against my chest.

I screeched as the iron sizzled my skin off.

Silas had gone through this. Silas had survived it.

I will not break.

I would free my people. I would kill Ulric.

Only then would I join Silas in the afterlife. Not before.

So, I repeated that mantra. Repeated it as my skin was repeatedly branded and burned. Repeated it as my skin was whipped. Repeated it as my feet were put in iron boots, and the bones in them were crushed, leaving me unable to stand. Repeated it as I was flayed and cut open and stitched back up for them to do it all over again.

I will not break.

I will not break.

I will not break.