by Ivy Asher
Fury rises around me like steam, and I soak it up, letting it coat my skin.
“Oh, it’s you again,” a velvety voice observes, and it pulls me from the memories bombarding me.
My head snaps up as though the voice is in the room with me, but I recognize the arrogant tone immediately. It’s the man from my head. The dismissive jerk from earlier.
“I told you, don’t call me until you’re ready to prove your worthiness. I’m not ready to settle down, and you can’t just go forcing connections on people, it’s not a good look,” he snarks.
“Get stuffed, you prick! You keep popping up into my head. I already told you to find someone else to annoy,” I snap.
A surprised chuckle tickles down our mental connection. “Whoa, there, Snarls, I like ’em feisty, but don’t take it too far,” he chastises.
I lose it.
“I couldn’t give a raging shit about what you do or don’t like. Unless you’re going to figure out how to get me out of this dungeon and away from the animal with knives and a penchant for pain, then shut up. Keep your opinions to yourself, and stay out of my head!” I snarl, irritatingly earning my nickname as I sneer and breathe hard, screaming in my head to a person I can’t see.
“Dungeon? What do you mean? Is someone keeping you? Hurting you?” the voice barks, but I’m too worked up, and a barrier slams down in my mind as my vision changes to shadows.
Onyx tendrils snake into my sight, and I freeze at the onslaught of my protective darkness as it comes in to help me from my own thoughts. If I’m not careful, the numbness and paralysis will kick in.
“They all said I was crazy,” I whisper to myself, but I see Medley move down the bars to be closer to me.
“Sable, look at me,” she calls out, and my eyes snap right to hers. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll explain everythin’ to you, but you’re not crazy. You never were. I know a bit about how you grew up, how you’ve been livin’ ever since. But everythin’ you see and feel is real.”
“All the monsters…they were all demons, and I’m in Hell.” I don’t even recognize my own voice. I’m spiraling, and I know Medley is looking at me with heartbreak and sympathy in her eyes, but I’m too caught up to care.
“We are in Hell, but you’re not alone. You hear me? We’re gonna get out of here.”
The familiar sound of a door slamming open causes my blood to run cold, and seconds later, Ophidian’s voice rings out through the room. “Now, Medley, don’t go filling Sable’s head with silly little notions like escape, because trust me, that won’t happen.”
Medley’s eyes narrow with his arrival, and she moves deeper into the corner of her cell. It’s clear that every instinct in her body is telling her to get as far away from this monster as she can, just like my body is screaming at me to do the same thing.
I try to keep my breaths even and watch his movements under my lashes as he moves into the room, his eyes perusing the many tools he has on display. Someone is about to hurt. I don’t know who it will be, me or Medley, but it will most likely be us, since I’ve yet to see Ophidian even acknowledge Toreon in his cell. I don’t know which will be worse: enduring the pain or watching someone else have to endure it.
Morax pulls a short whip-like thing from the wall that has several strands of leather with metal pieces braided into them. Clutching it, he turns and strides evenly to our cages. My heart thumps against the bones of my chest and fear constricts my throat like a boa.
Just when I think he’s headed for me, he passes by on a menacing chuckle and uses whatever ability he has to create a door that wasn’t there before in Medley’s cage.
Right then in that moment, as I witness her try to leap for her weapon only to be slammed back against the bars, I know with complete certainty that watching Morax hurt her is going to be far worse than enduring it.
He reaches out and wraps his hand in her lilac-colored hair, fisting it tightly, and she whimpers and cries out as he pulls her from her cage. I leap up from where I’m sitting, rage strengthening my weak muscles as I hurry forward, slamming against the bars that keep me from reaching them.
“Stop!” I scream, my voice a command and a plea all at once. “Don’t—”
Morax whirls around, his slitted eyes alight with a warning that cuts off my words. I immediately go quiet, and he goes from outraged to pleased in the blink of an eye. Terror roils in my gut, because I know that’s the worst emotion he could wear. Nothing good comes from Morax’s happiness.
“Ah, Sable. Aren’t you cute trying to save your sister,” he coos at me. He steps closer, but still out of reach, holding Medley by her scalp, her neck bent painfully to the side.
I press myself harder against the bars, as though if I can just reach her, somehow I can save her from whatever sick thing he has planned for her. Medley reaches up and grabs onto Morax’s wrist to keep him from ripping out chunks of her hair, but I can tell that it’s not doing much to relieve the hold he has. She works to get her feet under her, and it’s clear that she’s trying to bite back the pain and the cries that want to pour from her.
“Leave her alone. Do it to me,” I demand, my stomach falling at the smile that stretches over his face. I don’t know how, but I know I just played right into his hands.
“Why would I do that, Sable?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “This is the most reaction I’ve gotten out of you since I plucked you away. Maybe now you’ll finally do as you’re told.”
With that, he drags Medley away and then throws her against the metal table that I’ve come to be so accustomed to. Fury pumps through my veins, and I realize that my vision is in shadows, like I’m still seeing things as though the blackness has taken over, except I can still move.
“Take off your clothes, Medley,” Morax demands, his voice laced with power.
Panic rushes through me as thoughts of what he’s going to do go to very dark places. My hands grip the bars, and I bite my lip hard, hoping that she has the same defenses as me. Will darkness take over soon to protect her from Morax’s command?
Even as I think that, I remember how she tried to reach for her scythe but couldn’t get to it. Dread settles into me as I realize that she’s not completely impervious to his power. But that’s a weapon, and this is her. She must have some similar defenses, some default setting like I’ve always had…
Right?
Horror creeps through me as Medley’s eyes glaze over and she immediately starts to unbutton her shorts with a vacant, complacent expression.
No, no, no, no! I can’t let this happen. I have to stop this, but how? That question slams against my skull like a mallet to a gong.
The problem is, I have no answers.
7
I lose my mind against the bars caging me in as I try to figure out how to stop him from forcing her to do this. I scream every foul word and thought at Morax as he watches Medley push her shorts down her hips. I rage and screech at him, but her shirt goes next, and then she reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.
“If you don’t stop right now, you’ll never get a thing that you want from me,” I threaten on an enraged bellow. It’s not just because she’s my sister—a fact that’s still settling in. This happening to anyone is not okay, and I’m not going to stand by and watch it happen. I will do whatever it takes to get him to stop.
“We both know you can’t control me, and I swear to Hell itself, if you don’t stop right now, I will fight you every step of the way!” I snarl at him for all that I’m worth.
Morax’s focus moves from Medley to me, and his eyes blaze with anger as his snakes jerk around his head with agitation. “Stop, Medley,” he commands. His brown wings spread out behind him as he closes the distance between my cage and him.
I can feel the heat of his fury, and I move back in my cell so he can’t reach me without coming in.
“You dare speak to me that way!” he yells at me, spittle flying from his mouth and deep angry breaths rushing in and out. “I am the Ophidian, and I
bow to no one,” he shouts, but as terrifying as his display is, and as much as I know he can hurt me, I have him.
He wants something from me. I’m still not sure why, but I have leverage, and we both know it. He seethes at me, and I have no doubt I’ll pay for my defiance later. If he could rip my head off right now, he would, but he doesn’t, because he needs something first.
I stare at him, unmoving, as he seems to realize that he’s revealed too much. He backs up, his eyes fixed on mine, and I see the promise of pain in them.
“You think you can order me around, little Annulus?” he questions rhetorically.
I hear the sound of chains clinking together with movement, and Toreon’s face leans out of the shadows, but I don’t focus on him. My gray eyes are fixed on the nightmare in front of me as he slowly backs up.
“Medley, put your hands out, palms up,” Morax commands, power leaking out of the words, and my eyes flicker over as I see Medley do exactly as she’s told.
Before I can say a word, Morax spins, striding for her, and then slaps the whip across her hands. Slashes immediately open up on her palms, and Medley cries out from the pain. I bite my lip, but then her gray irises go solid black, and hope catches in my chest. Is that what it looks like when the darkness creeps into my vision?
Please let it be true. Please let it be her own darkness protecting her.
Relief filters through me as she stands stoically, but it’s quickly chased away when Morax commands, “This time, I want to hear you scream. Loudly.” He slams the metal barbed whip against her palms again.
Medley screams bloody murder, and the sound rocks me to my core, making me stagger. I have to work to keep from slamming my hands to my ears to keep the sound from penetrating, because I don’t want Morax to know how much this is affecting me. My mind screams, something like fingernails dragging down it, and I shudder, only to realize it’s that voice trying to break in. As soon as I focus on it, the barrier lifts, and the man shoulders his way into my consciousness.
“What’s going on? I can sense your terror. Who’s hurting you? Name the demon who would touch the mate of Ire, and their death will be slow and maddening,” the rough voice bellows in my head, but his words are a jumble, and I can’t focus on it. I shove it back so that I can focus on Medley and Morax.
“Very well done, Medley,” Morax praises, reaching out to wipe a tear from her cheek. He brings his finger to his mouth and licks her tears as he circles her like a lion does its kill.
With a grasp on her arms, he positions her to face me and runs his hands slowly over the arc of her lilac wings. Medley shivers, her black eyes fixed on nothing, and fear and anger knock against the insides of my body.
She’s reacting, which makes me believe that she must still be feeling everything, and that’s different from what happens with me. But I don’t know how her darkness is working or if that’s what her black eyes even mean.
“Call your scythe, Sable,” Morax tells me, no power in his tone.
Helplessness rakes its claws up my back, and I feel my own tear slip down my cheek. “I don’t have a scythe,” I confess desperately, knowing the words won’t stem his cruelty, and terrified of what that will mean for the sister I just found.
“Call. Your. Scythe!” the Ophidian screams at me, dipping quickly into the unhinged maniac inside of him like he’s dipping a toe to check the temperature of water. “If you can’t do it, then you’re as good as useless. If you can’t perform, I have no use for you. I have one sister, and soon, I’ll have the other too. So if you want to make threats, you better be able to back them up. Call your fucking scythe!”
“I can’t! I don’t know how!” I scream back, and Morax’s face goes from deranged to a mask of calm in a heartbeat.
“Then you’ll watch her suffer until you do,” he declares evenly, moving to hang the bloodied whip back up on the wall and pulling what looks like large tweezers from a different spot.
“Medley, you will pluck out each of your feathers one by one. If Sable hasn’t called her scythe by the time you’re done, then I want you to use these to dig out your eyes.”
“NO!”
I scream at him as he hands the tool to Medley, and she grips them in her bloodied palm. She immediately reaches back and yanks a feather out of the bottom of her wing. My own wing twitches at the sight, and I know from experience how much it hurts.
She moves to another one, tugging it out with a wince. Then another. And another. And another. Lilac-colored feathers fall to the floor beside her bare feet, like petals being plucked from a flower and lying at the base of a drooping stem. Every time she pulls out another one, every time she grimaces at the small burst of pain, my heart pounds.
“Stop! Please!” I plead as Morax turns to watch her handiwork. “I swear I don’t know how, but I’ll try! Just please stop,” I beg him, but it falls on deaf ears.
I fist my hands in my hair, enraged and frustrated. How can I do what he wants? I have no idea how any of this works. I’m trying to think through how I can end this when the door that leads into this room suddenly opens, and a large shadow forms in the doorway.
“My Liege, something has come up that you need to be made aware of immediately,” a deep resonating voice declares. I can’t make out much more than a massive being with wings, not with the shadows and tears hindering my vision.
Morax sighs, like this interruption is an annoyance, but he gives a terse nod. “Fine.”
I hear the person from the doorway walk away, footsteps receding as Morax turns around to look at me again. “I suggest you get to work,” he tells me before he grips Medley’s arm and manhandles her back to her cage and shuts her in.
I watch in horror as he walks away with a smirk, realizing that he has no intention of turning his compulsion off.
“No! You can’t do this!” I scream, but he’s already walking out, the door slamming shut behind him.
I scramble to the bars that separate me from Medley, watching as she stands there, plucking another feather from her wing.
“Medley, stop.”
She doesn’t hear me, or can’t, her black eyes moving to the next feather as she tugs it out, her face cringing from the pain. I reach through the bars, straining with all my might, my chest and face smashed against the cold metal as I try to get to her. The edge of my fingertip barely grazes her limp hand, and I push myself more, so much so that my cheekbone and shoulder scream in protest as I press forward as hard as I can.
By sheer luck and will, I’m able to gain that desperate inch and snag her pinky finger. I latch onto it, curling my fingers around until I have a better hold, and then I yank her forward. She comes without any struggle. As soon as they’re within reach, I grab the hellish tweezers and toss them behind me, getting them as far away from her as I can.
She stares at me with her black eyes, and I freeze, her expression completely blank and creepy, not at all like the friendly and open face from before.
“Medley…”
A second later, she blinks, and then she reaches down and starts to pluck feathers out with her fingers instead, and a sob catches in my throat.
“Medley, no. You have to stop!” I say, trying to reach for her again, but she just bats me away like I’m nothing but a fly.
“You can’t fight his compulsion,” Toreon says from behind me.
“What do you know about fighting?” I snap without looking at him. “You’ve clearly given up, so I don’t want your advice.” My words are filled with so much venom that his mouth clamps shut, and then I hear shuffling on the floor.
When I chance a look back at him, I see that he’s lying down again, a hand tossed over his eyes, though his body is tight with tension. I’ll probably feel guilty about snapping at him later, but for now, Medley is my sole concern.
I wipe away a tear that escapes my eye as I look at the small pile of feathers already at her feet, a visible spot on her wings where her feathers are thinned out. A rip goes down my spine as my wings di
sappear again as if they want to hide from what’s happening.
Every feather she yanks out is like a grain of sand falling down an hourglass. I haven’t forgotten what Morax said is going to happen if she plucks out all her feathers and I still haven’t called my scythe.
But I’ll be damned if I let her blind herself.
My wings burst from my back again, and I let out a shocked growl, and then I grit my teeth, shoving away my black-purple hair from my face. With renewed purpose, my eyes land on the scythe in her cell, far out of reach in the other corner.
Somehow, someway, I need to make one of those hellish weapons appear. If I can do that, Medley’s compulsion will stop. I whirl around to Toreon. “Tell me how to summon a scythe!”
His arm slips down slowly until his golden eyes are looking up at me. “What makes you think I know?” he asks carefully.
I throw my hands up, grimacing when I hear Medley suck in a breath behind me. “You’re the only demon around I can ask. Just tell me. Please!” I rush to say.
He tilts his head on the floor. “Is it true you’re an Annulus?”
“I don’t know!” I retort. “I’m learning all of this as I go, but I do know that if I can’t do this, then the sister I just found is going to pull out all her feathers and then dig out her eyes. So please, please help me.” Tears track down my face, and I don’t know if he can help or not, but if he can’t, I’m desperate enough to try to reach out to the mind-speak guy next.
When Toreon just continues to stare at me, a frustrated noise bleats out of me, my anxiety going haywire. My own wings flare behind me, like they’re trying to help rid me of my panic, but then Toreon’s voice stops me from spiraling. “Close your eyes.”
