Sang drew his fingers away. I held perfectly still as he brought the scalpel to my cheek, running it lovingly to my jaw. I gasped at the tiny scratch of pain, but it was so minimal compared to what I expected. To what I was used to from the keepers.
"Tell me, and the knife goes away," he promised, sliding the flat side of the scalpel down my neck, his expression strangely gentle for a monster torturing me.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't move.
"I can torture you in other ways," he went on in a low voice, his body curved so he could meet my eyes despite being much, much taller. "I don't want to, but I can, sweet human. Just tell me where you got the necklace, and all the bad things go away."
"I can't talk about it," I rasped, barely audible. Cold metal moved against my throat with every word, my awareness of the danger making everything crystal clear—my sight, my hearing, my senses of smell and touch. "Please."
Sang groaned. "I love to hear your pleas, Hala. But I need more—tell me where you got that locket."
Tears of frustration bled down my cheeks and I sobbed when Sang flicked his long tongue out to catch one, careful not to touch my skin.
"So sweet," he said, husky and deep. "Let's make this quick, shall we?"
My bottom lip wobbled when he caressed my head with a soft touch, stroking silver hair back from my face.
"Then I'll treat you to all those orgasms we spoke about. Yeah? Just tell me what I need to know, sweet human."
His voice was gentle enough to reach into my chest and crush my heart. I couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to me in that tone, with that care.
No, that was a lie. I knew exactly when, and I couldn't forget that day even if I tried. And I triedso hard.The blood, the locket in my hand, the steely acceptance in his turquoise eyes as he sacrificed himself for me—
I couldn’t do this anymore.
The memories were fighting to get out, ready to shatter me. I could almost smell the blood, almost hear his twisted laugh in the moments before he died.
Hanging from the chains, I broke down in tears, my whole body crumpling as I choked on cries.
The scalpel left my neck instantly. I heard a ping as it landed on the floor across the room, as if Sang had thrown it.
"No more knife play," he murmured, wrapping huge, striped arms around my chained body and squeezing tight enough that I cried harder, resting my face against his hot chest. I was so broken, any touch was a blessing, and I didn’t even think about recoiling.
"I'm going to take good care of you," he promised, and it was completely insane—he'd kidnapped me and threatened me!—but I sobbed harder, a keening sound in my throat.
My twisted, traumatised heart was on show for this psycho monster to see.
"I promise, sweet human. You're mine now."
4
In an alternate world I would turn this monstrous, purring man into a puddle of gore. But inthisworld, I let him hold me while memories raged cruelly through my head, opening cracks I'd thought had healed just a little.
Weakness spread through me, his touch like cool water on burned skin. But the longer Sang held me, the more my skin began to crawl, and insecurity and confusion reigned.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked suspiciously, blinking my eyes clear of tears.
"You know why," Sang replied, petting my hair with long, reassuring strokes that gave me butterflies. "I want to know—"
"I know why you're tormenting me. Why are you being nice to me?"
Sang drew back, a furrow between his bushy brows and his yellow eyes pinched. "Because you cried, sweet human. I can't be mean to a girl when she cries."
I shook my head. He wanted something. People always did when they showed kindness. It was a trick.
"And I told you," he went on, stroking a silver strand out of my face, "you're mine now. I'll torture you however I want, and if I want to change tactics, I will."
A chill pricked my arms. "So you admit the comfort is a trap."