Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(98)

“Don’t worry.” He folded the shard of Soul’s Blade in his hand like a switchblade, his voice dripping with irritation, obviously understanding the panic on my face. “He can’t control me. My magic is too strong for him to even try. I need the blade just as I need you.”

I jerked away, not from the proximity, not from the fear of what he was saying, but from the actual meaning of what he had just said.

I could already feel his magic press against me. I could feel the warmth of it wrap around me like a blanket, smothering me, soothing me.

“I want you,” he soothed, the tempo of his voice changing with those few words, the melody calming, like a song. “Can you trust me?” His voice wrapped around me, his hand continuing to trail up and down my bare back in a calm rhythm, his magic moving into me, swirling around my own. Playing with it. I could feel it try to connect with mine. I wanted it to.

“Yes.”

“I trust you, Ovi. I want you,” he whispered as he leaned down to me, his lips soft against the hollow of my ear, his voice soft as he whispered to me.

I shivered as his magic surged before pulling back. His touch, his soothing rhythm abandoned me, leaving me wanting.

“I want you, Sain,” I gasped, part of me hungry for his touch, part of me confused as to what I was even saying. “I want to help you.”

“Good, because now I need you to scream.”

Instantly, the calm I had felt left. The gentleness of his voice was gone, and the beauty of his eyes had faded back to the dark warning I had seen before, back to the greed and power I now knew was truly him.

“No!” I gasped in desperation, my heart rate accelerating with the pain I already knew was coming.

“Sorry, Ovi, but it’s for the greater good. I promise it will be worth it.”

I had barely heard the words when his hand pressed against my back, pressed against the base of my spine that was still trying to fuse itself back together. His grip was rough as he dug into me, as he snapped the fragile bones in two.

The scream erupted from me in a violent ripple, echoing in my head as the pain engulfed me. One vertebrae after another snapped as his hand moved up my back. The scream escalated until a shout reverberated down the hall, the deep anger of my father’s voice mixed with them.

“I trust you, Ovailia. Don’t let me down,” Sain whispered as he moved away, leaving me writhing in agony as he went back to the chair, curling himself in a ball, his eyes fading to black as he cried and muttered to himself.

I watched the change through my pain, my screams subsiding as the door smashed open, a beam of bright light painting the room yellow as my father, Míra, and at least five other guards streamed into the space.

“Shut her up!” my father screamed.

Míra jumped into action as she vaulted onto the bed, straddling me as her tiny hands clamped over my mouth, pulling my head back roughly in a move obviously meant to strangle me.

I gasped for air, the scream ending as the girl’s magic moved into me, numbing through me before freezing me in place, my muscles and tendons and bones outside my control.

My heart beat in fear as she let me go, my face slamming into the bed with a rough smack, my body no longer responding to the signals I was sending to it. I was forced to lie lifeless on the bed and watch everyone in front of me.

“Play the game … Play the game…” Sain repeated in a low mumble from the chair, no one so much as paying him attention.

Edmund walked over to where I lay, his eyes glinting brightly with a pride that, once upon a time, I had assumed was only reserved for me.

“Nicely done, child,” he mused, his voice deep and dark as he stood over me. His hand was rough as he grabbed my hair and pushed and pulled my head from side to side. “You are learning.”

“Play the game … Play the game…” Sain repeated, his voice rising louder as he finally pulled Edmund’s attention away from me. The pride and joy in my father’s demeanor left.

“This one, on the other hand…” In three quick steps, my father was on him.

Sain’s actions grew more desperate and pained with each tap of my father’s shoes against the stone.

The moment Edmund reached the old man, his head turned, his eyes black as he continued to mumble. The look froze Edmund in place, his shoulders pulling into a square as he laughed, the sound deep and low as Sain repeated the same phrase again.

“Damek!” Edmund’s voice was loud as one of the shadowed figures pulled to the front, the scars that littered the man’s face more obvious in the bright light from the hall. “Go and get me a mug. It seems I have more use for this one than I thought.”

“Play the game…” Sain repeated, his voice moving into a slow lull as the black faded, the green eyes downcast and broken as he looked around in fear to those who now surrounded him. His hands pulled into his chest in a move that I used to interpret as fear, as a broken man who was made to bend. “Edmund!”

“Sain.” Edmund scowled as if Sain’s shout of feigned terror was nothing more than a greeting. “You saw something.”

Sain moved farther away as Edmund took a step closer, his hand moving to claw at the chair in a desperate need to escape.

“Y-yes…”

“What did you see?”

Sain visibly shook under the weight of Edmund’s question.