Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
We might stand a chance.
A guard shoved me back, sending me wheeling into the one bleeding behind me.
He grabbed me in a neck-lock, throttling me and trying to throw me to the ground.
Scratching at his forearm, I gave in to the final dregs of my violence.
Throwing myself forward, I managed to toss him over my shoulder. Stomping onto his stomach, I flew toward Victor, where he stood by the crack we’d entered. His black suit slashed from my first cut, the material shimmering wetly.
I’d hurt him.
He wasn’t invincible.
He’s killable.
“Henri.” His eyes flashed as I ducked around a guard trying to tackle me, then grunted as another struck my kidneys. “You won’t win.”
I knew that.
I’d known that the moment I’d cut him instead of Ily.
But…I had to try.
Baring my teeth, tasting blood—my blood—I tried one last time to get to him.
His eyes flared as I managed to get close.
His lips parted as I reached for him.
And then every remaining guard in the cave collided with me.
They knocked me down.
Towered over me in a ring of retribution.
And then…
…pain.
Chapter Two
………………………….
Ily
I SCREAMED AS FURIOUS MEN stood over Henri and kicked him.
A mob of them.
A swarm.
A never-ending punishment of savage fists and chaos.
It went on forever.
A sickening eternity.
The heavy thuds of their abuse.
The godawful grunts as Henri suffered.
“Stop it!” I yelled. “Stop, please!”
The guards only grew more vicious.
Sweat rivered down their temples, bodies wounded, blood drawn, doing their best to kick him to death.
I lost sight of Henri as he stayed down.
My ears rang for any sound that he’d survived.
“STOP IT!” I sobbed.
Peter grabbed my hand and squeezed. Our palms slicked together, smearing blood. His blood. My blood. It didn’t matter. We both wore injuries from our own punishments, and my bones ached from two Masters hitting me.
None of that mattered because if they kill him…
“You have to stop!” I tried to crawl around a few Masters’ legs, barring us in a cage by the cave wall. “Please don’t kill him!”
Victor blew me a kiss from across the temple.
A few guards shifted, creating a window into their ring of violence. I gasped as I noticed Henri prone and unmoving on the ground. His legs at an unnatural angle. His face covered in blood. His back contorted as if someone had snapped his spine.
Nausea gushed.
This can’t be happening.
Please…let me wake up.
Let this all be a horrendous nightmare.
Bowing my head, I closed my eyes and did my best to be anywhere but there.
Would I sense him if he died?
Would my soul slice in two when his slipped free?
Henri, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry I can’t stop them.
I closed my eyes as thud after thud, grunt after grunt echoed in the cave as the guards kept driving Henri closer to his grave.
I rocked and keened, tears flowing down my cheeks even as Peter hugged me close and whispered things I couldn’t hear into my ear.
This was worse than Henri dying.
This was a thousand times worse because he’d be in so much pain, so much suffering. His death wasn’t quick. His death dragged on and on, and if I had the ability to end his excruciating existence by setting him free, I would have. I would take his hand and walk with him into that blinding light and leave this awful, horrible world behind.
And what of the jewels?
“Don’t look, Ily,” Peter breathed. “Don’t look.”
I shuddered as Peter pressed a kiss to my temple, his grief tangling with mine.
I’d stayed true to him and the others all this time.
Everything I did and every day I survived was to save them.
But in that cave, listening to them beat my twin flame to death, I turned selfish.
If I had the choice to stop Henri’s torture and die with him…I would.
I would turn my back on my family and every jewel if it meant Henri would be free.
A wracking sob fell out of me as my eyes flickered open, and through the grimy gloss of tears, I watched a guard pull his foot back and kick Henri right in the jaw. In the forest of legs, Henri’s head snapped back, his body twitched, and then…nothing.
The guards all stopped.
The Masters didn’t say a word.
Henri didn’t move.
His chest didn’t rise.
His eyes didn’t open.
H-He’s dead…
What did that say about our connection that I didn’t feel him leaving me? How was he the missing piece of my soul if I didn’t feel that piece fly away?
I tried to crawl to him as the guards broke their circle and returned to an orderly line by the wall—some hunched and holding the many wounds Henri had given them, some ripping their shirts and wrapping makeshift bandages to staunch the stabbings he’d delivered.
Not one of them looked untouched.
Henri had managed to hurt every single one, and in return…they’d killed him.
Heavy breathing replaced the sounds of abuse.
No one uttered a word.