Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(48)

“Hello, father,” I said with as much ire as I could, but my weak voice swallowed my pride.

“Why, Wynifred,” Edmund said, ignoring my comment to my father, “you are looking well, better than I think I have ever seen you.”

He smiled at me as he squatted, bringing himself to eye level. I clenched my jaw and scowled at him, not wanting to know what was coming.

“Not going to say hello?”

“No. I’m not.” I narrowed my eyes, daring him to continue, begging him to finish me.

“Not going to ask after my welfare?” he asked, his voice still irritatingly calm.

I stayed still, my jaw clenched. A feeling I could not place was forming in the base of my spine. It was pure irritation blended with spite and it created an emotion I had never felt before.

“Hmmm, no matter,” Edmund said and smiled. “By the time I am done with you, you will be begging me to say ‘hello’.”

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move. I just stared at him as the door opened, his body taking a few steps in before he towered above me.

“Stand, Wynifred.” I almost laughed at him. It was a miracle I was able to move myself to sitting. Standing was out of the question.

“Not going to obey your Master?” Edmund asked, and I flinched, words that I knew I should never say to his face tumbling off my tongue before I could stop them.

“You are not my Master.”

“Well, not anymore, maybe,” he smiled, his hand patting the top of my head harshly. The weight of his touch sent me sliding down against the bars. “But once upon a time.”

I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. He was right. Once upon a time, I did bow to his every command. I looked away from his towering form, burying my face in the bars to look toward Talon, my eyes seeing for the first time what the darkness had not shown me.

His eyes were sunken in, and his skin was pale and covered with a thick layer of sweat. His eyes twitched as he laid still, his lips moving as he mumbled in his sleep.

He didn’t have much time left.

I fought the desire to turn to him, to cling to him, even to plead with Edmund to heal him. Each thought was wiped from my mind as Edmund spoke, his next words barely having meaning for me.

“Years ago you would do my bidding with only a smile and a swish of your hips,” I kept my eyes on Talon as he spoke, my ears focused on the tap of Edmund’s feet against the stone around me as he moved.

“Well, until you betrayed me.”

He stooped down beside me, careful to balance his weight on his toes and not touch the filthy ground that surrounded me. I kept my sight on Talon until Edmund’s long fingers turned my head toward him, so that my eyes had no choice but to stare into his. I would not give in. I would not close my eyes in fear, not in these last moments.

“Tell me, how long did Cail help you? How did you help him to block the ?tít?”

My confidence broke, confusion weaseling its way into my expression as I looked at him. I had no idea what he was talking about. I wasn’t going to tell him that, however. I wasn’t going to give into the game he was obviously playing. I would not place myself inside of his trap.

“Did you do the same to Ryland?”

I waited, his eyes digging in to mine. He glared into me, his patience leaving as he slammed my head into the metal bars behind me.

“Answer me!” he roared, his hand pushing me back into the bars again. I howled at the pain, my hands moving toward my head in an attempt to ease the pressure.

They had only made it halfway before the heavy iron shackles snaked through the air to wrap around my wrists. The large bands jerked me away from the bars, my body dragging against the stone as the chains pulled me back against the wall, my arms extending above my head.

“What did you do?” Edmund roared, his face coming within inches of mine. I looked away from him and toward my father, who stood by the stairs with a wicked smile turning up his lips. I looked at Sain, who sat against the bars of his cell, his green eyes narrowed at me in both warning and expectation.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said, my voice strained from the awkwardness of the position that Edmund had placed me in.

Edmund’s eyes narrowed at me, his face moving in close until his nose was only an inch away from my face, his polar blue eyes the only thing left for me to focus on.

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned. “Tell me what else he did when he stopped your father’s curse and tried to save your life. Tell me what happened when he put those pretty marks on your skin.” Edmund dragged his finger along the dark marks as he spoke, his finger pressing painfully against my bruises.

I cringed against the pain, my eyes narrowing at him. Cail didn’t try to save my life, he had tried to kill me. Just as my father had, but the curse misfired and instead marked my skin.

“N…no,” I managed to stutter out, my confusion growing.

“What secret did Cail hide inside your pretty little mind?”

“What?” I gasped, unable to keep my confusion at bay any longer. But Edmund only smiled as he closed the gap between us and pressed his cheek against mine. I felt the uncomfortable warmth of his skin and the iciness of his blood pulsing just underneath the surface.

“Don’t worry, Wynifred, you will remember everything soon.” He smiled and moved away from me, the chains around my wrists tightening, lifting me up so I could only balance on the balls of my feet.