This room had been built specifically for this purpose. When I needed to make an example of a bastard, he took a visit down here.
I could’ve lied and said I strictly brought my enemies down here and those who went against me, betrayed me, not because I enjoyed it but because I had a role to play, a status that needed to save face. But that would be a lie.
I liked causing pain. I liked hearing my enemy plead for forgiveness, beg me to stop the pain. Of course, I never fucking did. That would be too easy, and besides, I was a selfish asshole who did what I did because it benefited me in some way.
If the infraction wasn’t too severe, I let them live, but the reminder of who and what I was—of what I was willing to do and how far I would go to make my fucking point—would forever be on their minds.
And for those who could not be pardoned… well, I drained them dry. I quenched my thirst and made sure everyone knew what happened when you crossed me.
The scent of blood was overbearingly powerful as I inhaled deeply, causing my hunger and thirst to rise up even stronger. My stomach cramped painfully, my fangs growing sharper, longer. My mouth watered, my throat dry and aching.
Matteo hung twenty feet from me, strung up like a gutted pig, blood covering his body and pooling on the ground. Because of the black tile floor beneath his feet looked like spilled ink.
As I stared at Matteo, I thought about how he’d gotten himself into this position, how James, one of my soldiers, had found him conspiring with the Assembly, the nasty-as-fuck organization of humans who captured Otherworld creatures and used them as exhibits for torture, rape, murder, and whatever else those sick bastards deemed entertaining.
But Matteo’s face had been beaten to shit courtesy of James catching him conspiring with our enemy and had taken matters in his own hands, giving out a little justice in the form of physical pain before he’d brought the traitor to me.
Not how I normally did things, and certainly not the kind of shit I approved of. James would have to be dealt with for going against my code, my rules. But I understood the heat of the moment when lines got blurred and passions ran too high.
Much like the case right now with Matteo looking like he was hanging on by a thread thanks to Odhran.
Matteo may’ve been a vampire, his abilities impressive when compared to humans. If I untied him and let him heal, he’d be good as new in a couple of days. His tongue, which had been cut off, and his eyes, which had been gouged out, would have grown back, his face not looking like a mallet had been introduced to it.
I took my time as I made my way toward Matteo, my soldiers and Odhran standing around him in a loose circle and stepping back as I got closer. Although they’d waited for me before they really laid in to the poor son of a bitch—meaning they hadn’t killed him—I knew the majority of Matteo’s wounds were from Odhran going at him. Not to mention the wounds Matteo had sustained from James earlier.
And as I looked at Odhran, the wolf focused solely on Matteo, I couldn’t blame the Lycan for going batshit crazy.
“He’s mine,” Odhran growled and took a step toward Matteo. “I waited long enough. To end this shit.” Odhran swung his head in my direction, his eyes flashing with his inner animal. “He hasn’t said shite about the Assembly—”
“The bastard can’t even talk,” Kane said and snorted, clearly pointing out if Odhran wanted information from Matteo, he wouldn’t get it, given the no-tongue situation the other vampire was sporting.
I slowly turned my head in his direction. “Kane, it’s rude to fucking interrupt.”
Kane crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the far wall, where his brother, Sebastian, already was.
My two cousins were my right-hand soldiers, and not because they were family, but because they were ruthless fuckers, and also because they were the least afraid of me. Although they were smart enough to know their place in the hierarchy, I could count on them to know their place but call out any shit.
“He’s mine,” Odhran said again and moved forward.
“No,” I said and shook my head as I eyed Matteo and the pitiful display of him strung up. “He won’t die today.”
The low, rhythmic growl coming from Odhran was a threat in itself, and one I would have handled on any other occasion. But I knew he was unhinged because of his mate, knew that he saw Matteo as part of the reason he didn’t know where she was.
He saw Matteo as the male who could have told him where his fated mate was, the one he’d been searching out for decades. The one who’d been taken from him.