CHAPTER 16
Thalia
My hands are numb and my shoulders ache but those are merely my most prominent woes. I’m sore all over from being jerked off King’s back hours ago, and I’m terrified.
We rode hard for a few hours, but then Ferelith’s kidnappers slowed to a walk. This should’ve felt better to my bruised body, but that simply gave Snyder better access to torture me.
He did this by talking in a constant low murmur as I rode in front of him, describing in sickening detail what he planned to do to me once we camped for the evening. He also touched me, vicious enough I’m certain he left bruises behind. The first time he groped my breast, I slammed my head back into him. Unfortunately, I only got his cheekbone, but it earned me a punishment—his fist to the side of my head.
His hands wandered over me, pinching and squeezing far too hard. I know the insides of my thighs and breasts are going to be black and blue, but that’s hardly at the forefront of my worries.
Right now, I’m tied standing to a thin tree with my wrists bound behind it while my legs remain free. The collar is still secure around my neck, and periodically, I try to fire up my magic. It’s beyond depressing that I can’t even get a flicker against whatever power Ferelith soaked into the metal.
Two of the men are sent to hunt for food. That leaves Snyder and one other man, and I study them, their uniforms of midnight-black pants and shirts and knee-high boots. The patch on the upper sleeve portrays a red eye with a drop of blood leaking from the corner. I have no clue what the symbolism is, but blood is not a shocking element, given what we know about Ferelith.
Snyder is clearly in charge. After sending the two hunting, he orders the remaining man to build a fire. Snyder then sinks to the ground, resting with his back against a boulder.
He appraises me silently, chewing on the end of a blade of grass.
“What’s your story?” I ask, hoping at the very least to gather information that might aid in my release. “Have you been with Ferelith since the beginning?”
To my surprise, Snyder doesn’t seem offended by my curiosity. He shakes his head, tosses the piece of grass. Folding his hands over his stomach, he says, “I lived in Bell Tower. When Ferelith’s army advanced on us, we were offered the chance to surrender. I took it.”
Coward.
I try to keep my tone neutral and politely inquisitive. “Were you in the army?”
He lifts his chin and smirks. “First line, warrior caste descendant.”
There’s no hiding my derision. “My, how proud your ancestors must be that you surrendered without even trying to fight.”
The smile slips and his lips peel back in a feral snarl. He pushes up from the ground and stalks toward me, cruelty blazing in his eyes.
I want to be brave, but I’m scared out of my wits. With my magic nullified and my arms pinned, I have no means with which to defend myself.
Snyder stares at me lecherously as he approaches. I can’t imagine he finds anything sexy as I’m wearing jeans and a long-sleeved Henley I put on this morning to ward off the dawn chill. I’m covered in dirt, and my hair is a rat’s nest.
Just a few feet away from me, he reaches behind his back and pulls out a long knife with a curved blade and hooked tip.
I try to be strong, but I feel a scream welling inside. To keep it at bay, I babble at him. “I’m a prisoner, and there are rules regarding the treatment of such. Ferelith would not want you breaking the rules of war.”
Snyder’s laugh is cold, and he’s clearly delighted by my rising panic. “Empress Ferelith doesn’t care what I do to you. As long as you’re breathing and have most of your blood left. She’s sent out dozens of hunting parties like this to find you, and she’s promised untold riches as long as you come back with a pulse. I promise, I won’t make you bleed too bad.”
My stomach rolls as Snyder comes toe to toe with me, bending his head so his face is close to mine. I try to fight against my own gag reflex, which surges due to fear and my absolute disgust with how callous this man is.
Holding the knife in one hand, his other comes up to squeeze my breast painfully. “I am really looking forward to seeing how much fight you have in you.” His eyes burn with the promise of torture and pain.
Realization dawns that this could very well destroy me, and I know I have to fight with every bit of strength—physically and mentally—in my possession. “If you take off this collar, I’ll show you how much fight I have.”