be brutally abused, then killed, as he stood by. My heart hurt as I realized that I put him in the same position again. All because I couldn't keep my thoughts to myself with Blan.
"Are you ready, Walker? Your Holders have been given very illicit instructions as to what will happen should they intervene. I made their purpose for this evening abundantly clear. As a reminder, all it takes is a push of a button to inject a lethal poison to anyone wearing a fetter. "
I heard a cough from behind, as a man clutching Jules' arm entered the room. She frowned deeply and tried to pull away but couldn't. Her eyes were black from the smeared makeup lining her lids, dried tears leading a trail down her cheeks.
"Have a seat, Mistress. Enjoy the show," Cavil sneered.
I stood on the towel in the center of the room, surrounded by Cavil’s soldiers and my men. Without warning, Webb pressed a button on his tablet, beginning my torture. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to prove that I wasn't weak, but the fiery pain that immediately consumed each and every nerve-ending brought me to my knees and had me crying out. Tears blurred my eyes as I screamed, my voice so loud, the sound ripped apart my vocal chords. It was a clawing feeling, trying to seek release from the hold my fetter had on me. It burned. It tore. It made every cell in my body catch fire while making my lungs feel as though they were drowning. Just as quickly as it came, the pain ceased, and I gasped for air.
"That was session one. Eleven more to go," Cavil said in a bored tone.
I braced my hands on the floor, clutching the white towel Dominique laid out when the fire happened again. Burning, burning, burning. Every cell. Every inch of my being ignited and screamed for relief. It tore me down, then built me back up just to rip me apart again. Again, it stopped and I let out a growl.
Cavil's voice rang out again. "Session two, ten more to go." Before the next wave of pain hit, I looked up and saw Cavil's gleam as he adjusted the waistband of his pants. He enjoyed this.
Again, the shock shot up my arm, making me twitch and scream, but this time, it lacked the sharp intensity of the first two. It was as if the pain was too much and my body was shutting off all feeling to protect me. I'd met the threshold of pain, and all that was left was dark emptiness.
In the brief pause between session three and four, I looked to Patrick. Glassy eyes stared back at me as he pulled at his hair while pacing the floor. I knew he would take my pain if he could .
By session seven, my vision went black. By eight, my ears maintained a constant ringing, loudly rattling against my brain, muffling Cavil's laughter and the Walker women's flirtatious banter. Their night continued while I sat dying on their ivory stage. I couldn't see my men. But I could feel their eyes on me.
I lost control of my muscles on session ten, and by session eleven, I saw the reason for the towel. I would have felt embarrassment, but the pain was too much for shame.
Before session twelve, I cut Cavil off as he was speaking, announcing the last of my torture. I wanted one last act of strength. Perhaps it was foolish, but I needed to show that there was still some fight left in me.
"Session eleven. One. More. To. Go." My voice was hoarse and my words cut like knives against my raw throat. The screams bled me dry. Oh, what I would give to see his face as I survived. I wished to know if I rattled him. I wanted to see his doubt and disappointment when he realized that I wasn’t broken.
And this time, when the electricity kicked, I collapsed. I welcomed the darkness and resolved to get revenge for all he’d done.
Chapter Ten
My mouth was dry when I woke. I tried to crawl out of the sleepy haze I was in, but every time I reached the surface of my consciousness, the pain started. Every bone. Every muscle. Every cell in my body ached. My tongue snaked out to lick my chapped lips, tasting dried blood. My head was pounding, echoing pain that I still felt sharply with each beat of my heart. It