Glancing over at Garro, he gave me a smug smile. I hated surprises. “What’s he talking about?”
Skartovius turned to Dimmon. The room seemed to tilt and a wave of dizziness passed through me—
Before I realized theroomwasn’t moving . . . it was Skartovius’ shadow near the wall-torch, shifting and constricting. With great effort, Skar’s shadow slithered on the ground, up to the table. The knife he’d set down lifted as if by magic—with the dark patch of his arm, his shadow, holding the dagger. Except Skar’s arm never actually moved.
The nobleblood’s face sweated as the dagger floated through the air. He let out a raspy sound and the dagger fell hilt-first into my palm.
“What the fuck did I just witness?” I croaked.
Skar rubbed his sweaty brow. “I don’t understand it yet, love, but apparently I can control my shadow now.”
“My Loreblood.” My gaze lifted, shock coloring my features. Even Vallan looked surprised. “Garro drank from me and now he’s looking out from the eyes of rodents. You drank from me and can suddenly warp your own shadow? Fuck me True, what else can I do?”
Garro said, “My question, what will Vall show?”
“Who says he drank from me?” I asked defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest.
Garroway laughed and walked past me to leave the cell. He patted my shoulder on the way out. “Please, vixen. I know you better than that and you’re a horrible liar. It’s written on your face plain as day.”
He exited before I could answer, which left me reeling and shouting after him, “It is not!”
“Don’t mind him,” Skar said once Garro was gone. “Take that knife and help me with your torturer. It’s high time you made him pay.”
“How?” My voice was meek now, anxiety running through me. “I already burned his damned hand off.”
“My question isn’t what Vallan’s blood will reveal. It’s how this wretch’s body will react if given a sampling of your essence.”
My lip twitched with fear, realization hitting me between the tits. “You want to see how the healing of my blood compares to your own.”
His smile was devious and evil. I had to suppress a shudder to hold my ground.
“Quite right, little temptress. Quite right.”
Chapter 50
The shock was evident on our faces as my blood trickled into Dimmon’s slack mouth, my wrist held over his face. The sinews of his muscles worked to drink down the Loreblood, the skin from his neck flayed and raw.
It was his neck that started recovering first once my blood entered his system. The slow twisting and threading of pale flesh I’d seen when Skar fed him was faster now, expanding at a pace that would have the skin on Dimmon’s neck rehabilitated within minutes.
“Damnation preserve me,” Skar uttered, leaning forward to watch closer. “The healing properties of your blood is like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
Staring over my shoulder in superstitious disgust, Vallan grunted. “Does this change things, brother? For the cause?”
“It gives us more clarity. We are learning more about Sephania’s blood and power by the day.”
“Using Dimmon as a test subject for our science experiment,” I pointed out, grimacing. “It’s cruel.”
“It’s necessary. Do not find forgiveness in your heart for this vile man. He does not deserve it.”
No, Skartovius was right. Dimmon Plank was the last man on this earth who deserved forgiveness. Yet I was stillhumanat heart and couldn’t deny the weak human emotions plaguing me seeing this wretch bound to the table, croaking and dying and being forced to live through the pain every evening.
“How long have you kept him like this?” I asked.
Skar tapped his sharp chin. “When did Garro bring him here? He has not left this jail cell. And he won’t.”
I gulped, nodding. Skar didn’t sound like he would be persuaded. Honestly, I didn’t want Dimmon roaming free.Perhaps I could end his suffering though.
While I watched Dimmon’s neck healing, the flayed skin of his collar now beginning to recover as well, Skartovius remained studying my face at a profile angle.
