Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(20)

Head tilted, the Cosantir listened to the ranting with a smile tugging on his lips. Then he looked at her and his amusement disappeared. “After you were captured, Darcy, where did the Scythe take you?”

“Somewhere in Seattle. At first, they kept us in a basement.” She pulled in a breath. Be clear, tinker. This is a Cosantir, and the Daonain need to be warned. “In metal cages, below ground. For a…I’m not sure…for months?” They hadn’t been allowed to talk, to be together. Could only hear the screams coming from the rooms with the metal tables. “Everyone who was over thirteen, who had shifted at least once, they all died. The babies died. When the children who were still alive got sick, the Scythe moved us out of the cages and the basement.”

Gawain’s embrace had changed from restraint to reassurance, and his every exhalation held a growl.

She took strength from his anger and concern.

The Cosantir frowned. “Where are your littermates? I see your bonds to them are intact.”

He could tell? When Mum died and the mother-cub bond had broken, Darcy’d felt as if her heart had torn apart. But deep within, the warmly glowing links to her siblings still remained. “My brothers—and all the males—were kept somewhere else. Because they’re useful. The males were able to trawsfur when they got to thirteen or so. None of us females could shift, and no one knows why.”

Gawain’s body tensed. “When the males got to thirteen? Darcy, how long ago were you captured?”

Every year felt like a boulder piling onto her body. “Over ten years ago.”

As the color in the Cosantir’s eyes darkened, she kept talking, and the words spilled out like water from a broken faucet. “The Scythe are using the males as soldiers and spies. Shifter-soldiers. All the females are kept in the Seattle prìosan.”

“If they can’t use the females as shifters, why didn’t they kill you?” Calum asked in an even voice.

“We’re hostages.” Hatred tasted bitter in her mouth. “As long as they have a male’s sister, they can make him do whatever they want.”

The ache in her heart increased as she told them, “They told Firth to assassinate some politician, and he refused, so they…they tortured his sister until she died. Broke her…” Darcy swallowed despite her dry throat. “Ripped her s-skin off. They made us watch and showed the video to the males. After that, everyone cooperated.”

The growls behind her turned deadly, and she felt Gawain’s blazing anger.

The Cosantir didn’t speak. The power around him was an unsettling thrum in the air before he simply turned and walked away, brushing past Donal and Owen as he left the room.

Feeling as if ice was filling her, she pulled the blanket closer.

Owen was watching her with eyes the dark green of a forest at night. “You were imprisoned for over a decade?”

She nodded.

Donal walked up to the table. “That partly explains why you couldn’t trawsfur. Breanne didn’t shift until she was over twenty—because she lived in the city and took those drugs.” He moved the blanket off her wounded leg. “Let’s get the rest of these holes closed up.”

Still leaning against Gawain, she had her legs straight in front of her. The healer gripped her right leg and poured the so-called numbing liquid into the gunshot wound in her calf.

Pain. It felt as if he’d shoved a red-hot stick in her leg. Her leg tore from his grip.

“I’m going to need both hands, so Owen, could you could hold her leg, please?”

“Aye, Donal.” Owen curled a big hand around her ankle and his other above her knee, then added his weight to press her leg against the table. “What drugs were you on, Darcy?”

“I don’t know what you mean. We didn’t take any medicine or drugs.”

“The stuff that keeps females from having children.” Donal turned to the equipment table, ready to start.

Oh Gods, more pain. Darcy tensed.

Gawain’s arms tightened around her. Behind her, his body was a warm, breathing wall. She rested her head back against his shoulder.

“Medicine?” Owen prompted.

Stuff to keep females from having children? “You mean birth control? Yes. After a human raped a shifter, they stuck something in our arms to make sure none of us got pregnant. They used to replace it every few years, but the nurse was killed, um, about four years ago. Since then, a medical person only visits if someone’s injured.”

“Breanne took pills, but what you’re talking about sounds like a hormone implant.” The healer ran his palms up and down her arms. “There it is. It would be best to remove this right away. May I?”

Hormones. Trackers—and hormones. They kept putting horrible things in her body. “I hate this,” she whispered, then looked at the healer. “Yes, take it out.”

“I’m sorry, Darcy. If you grit your teeth, I’ll be as fast as I can.” When she nodded that she was ready, he picked up a razor and sliced her arm. The pain made her gasp, but within a second, he’d plucked out the implant and healed the cut. Only a tiny pink line remained. He’d even healed the spot where she’d removed the tracker.

Darcy blinked. He really had been fast. Her arm didn’t hurt any longer, and the trackers and foreign implant were gone. Each breath she took was freer. Her body was more and more her own, except for one spot. “Can you take the bullet out of my leg now, too? Please?”