name. But knowing she was close did nothing to comfort me, because if she was here then she was in danger. And I couldn’t help her.
The ball rattled around in the wheel and I found myself holding my breath along with the crowd as I waited for it to stop.
"The winner is…Blue!" the man announced. "Bonus pay-out to anyone who had cattle prod!"
What the fuck did he just say?
The crowd were cheering again, some of them booing because they’d lost, but overall there was a lot of fucking noise. I watched as the asshole bent down and rummaged about in the bottom of the cart before standing again with a flourish, holding out a long, metal cattle prod and powering it up.
He strode towards Blake as I yelled curses at his back and the metal cuffs cut into my wrists hard enough to spill blood while I fought to escape with even more determination.
"Fuck you, you pig-ugly motherfucker," Blake spat half a second before the asshole slammed the cattle prod into his stomach.
I roared my fury at him as Blake's spine arched, his muscles tensing with the pain as he bit down on any noise escaping his lips in response to the shock and the crowd cheered for the game.
My rage blinded me as I fought and fought, my muscles flexing and my blood pounding with the desperate desire to get free and destroy every single monster in this room.
By the time I calmed down enough to pay attention, the ball was flying around the wheel again and Blake was panting in his restraints, his eyes blazing with pain and fury.
"Red!" the man cried in excitement and the first thing I felt was relief that at least it was me and not my brother this time. I would take every one of these losses over watching someone I loved suffer. "The brand!"
My eyes widened as he pulled a metal brand from the cart next and the crowd chanted encouragement as he moved over to heat it in the fire.
Fury pulsed through me along with the most crippling sense of uselessness. I couldn't break free of this. I couldn't escape. And I knew that this game wouldn't just end. They would keep playing, rolling the wheel and picking between me and Blake as the torture got worse and worse until one of us died. That was where the real money was being made here. They were betting on who would survive the longest. And either way I was going to be the loser. Not just because this would be my end and Blake's too. But because I knew that somewhere nearby, Tatum needed me. She needed me and I couldn't come for her. She was alone after we'd all promised that would never happen. And if the Night Keepers met their end here, then every oath we'd made would have been for nothing. And the idea of that failure hurt me so much more than any torture ever could.
The man approached again, the glowing hot brand with the Royaume D’élite symbol of a letter R inside a ring of fire on it held out before him.
I gritted my teeth before he pressed it to my thigh, biting down on my tongue as a roar of pain built in my throat and the scent of burning skin sailed beneath my nose.
It was agony unlike any I'd known before, blinding and unending and made so much worse by the stench of failure that accompanied it. Because I deserved this. I deserved all of it if I couldn't get to her. If she suffered because of my failure then I was owed this and more. And as the pain almost stole my sense of self, that was all I could hold on to. Our girl needed us. And we weren't coming.
I t was never ending. This constant torrent of ice cold that made my lungs burn with the fires of hell.
My muscles tightened and strained against the cuffs holding me there, on some fucking sex bed which I seriously hoped had had a thorough clean, my biceps bulging to the point of pain as I tried to rip my way free of this torment.
Inside my head was nothing but white noise and the images I'd sealed away of her. Hot lips on my flesh and the bluest eyes I've ever seen staring right upon my blackened soul, seeing all of me and finding it enough. Finding it worthy. Impossible and yet true.
That was it.