Too bad your word means nothing, I almost said, thinking of the tattoo inked over Vale’s brand. The one tying her to Titus with a sick and twisted sense of loyalty when the man was supposed to offer her protection.
But because his word was all I had, I swallowed the biting remark.
And I nodded.
Then, I shut out the rattle of Mila’s chains as she struggled against her captor, and the guard behind me shoved me to the floor—blocked out Barrett’s curses at the chancellor as a dagger sliced up the back of my leathers, exposing my scars to the air.
How had I gotten here again? On my knees before a whip. A subject meant for nothing greater than torture. For nothing grander than torment for other’s protection.
I’d take it. I’d accept it as I had every other beating because it kept the people I loved safe. Mila, Barrett… None of them would feel this pain.
And that was the thought I repeated as the first blow landed. As my flesh tore beneath the leather, ripping open the scars I’d healed.
A familiar warmth spread across my back. Blood.
I found Mila’s eyes through the pain, crystal irises glistening with furious tears as she yelled profanities at Titus and the guards. This punishment wouldn’t rip open every scar I’d worked so hard to mend. Not the ones she’d stitched up within me. It would be okay.
The guard behind me shoved my shoulder, the pain across my back searing through my bones.
If I’d completed the Undertaking, I’d heal even faster than my non-ascended warrior blood did. Now, it would likely take all night for the wounds to stitch. Longer probably, given we were further from the mountains than when I’d been whipped before.
But I hadn’t attempted the ritual. I’d refused time and again because I was a coward, afraid of what I’d face in there. It had been easier to return to the void inside me that didn’t feel this pain. To bury myself there.
As that person swam to the surface, and the second blow tore through flesh with a familiar sting, I kept my stare locked on Mila.
All I could picture was them doing this to her instead. Had that been one of her punishments? She’d never mentioned. The scars I’d seen weren’t consistent with it but?—
A third lash landed, nearly making me scream.
I buried that pain deep, deep down. Curling forward, the skin of my back stretched, the wounds burning.
Mila shouted again, tears streaking down her beautiful face.
I couldn’t look at her anymore. Wrenched my stare away and counted the seconds before the next blow landed.
Three was a kind day, in the life I once endured.
I could survive three again.
Even five. It was when it got toward ten that I would start to feel dizzy.
Perhaps I’d pass out around then. I used to force myself to stay conscious through it all, but maybe I could allow myself that reprieve now. Trust that I was absolving the pain from my friends and they would get us out of here. Hopefully Vale, too, if there was a way.
I’d take however many lashes Titus demanded if it meant they were safe.
In the guard’s shadow, I watched his arm rise again. I clenched my teeth and searched Titus’s beady stare—a stare heavy with greed and torment. I opened my mouth to spew hatred at him, to lessen the sting searing through my flesh, but?—
Over his shoulder, Celissia was crouched beside Vale. She touched the Starsearcher’s shoulder, listened to her breathing.
Vale’s head snapped up. And her expression was not the dazed, searching gaze of a reading.
It was a brutal, vengeful glare aimed at her captor’s back.
No one but Celissia and me saw her. One hand was clenched around something small, shining with a glittering blue.
But with the other, she unbuttoned a panel in the waist of her dress and removed a delicate triple-bladed dagger.
And with the guards’ eyes all on me, with everyone’s attention trained on my blood seeping across the floor and their cries masking her movements, Vale sprang to her feet.
