help you heal,” he tells me gently, but I know now not to fall for that passive tone. “With what the collar did to you, Adriel thinks you’ll be drained for weeks. This will help you recover faster,” he tries again as he presses the cup more firmly against my mouth.
I don’t know what game this fucker is playing at, but I don’t believe for a second that he’s trying to help me. I clench my jaw against his efforts, defiance settling in my features. “Do I need to force it down your throat? Is that what you want, because one way or another, you need to drink this. I know what you think of me right now, and I accept it, but you need to heal and you need to do it quickly.”
I try to pull my head away from him, but as fast as a striking cobra, he’s holding me against his chest, keeping my head still with one hand and pressing the cup forcefully against my mouth with the other. I choke out a protest and immediately call on every weapon I have that I can stab this fucker with. Pain slices through me, and I flinch away from my magic and bite back a pained cry.
What the fuck did they do to me?
I know I didn’t ask the question out loud because talking makes my throat feel like it’s filled with broken glass, but I must be wearing my worry on my face because Siah addresses it.
“It’s the collar. It makes it painful for you to use your magic. You were using so much of it when Adriel put it on you that he thought he killed you. He took out a good chunk of his elite guard in a fit when you collapsed and wouldn’t wake up.”
I huff out a tired breath, and the fight I’m trying to put up goes with it. A tear drops down my cheek, and I struggle to swallow down the frustration and anger that’s attempting to escape without my permission. I want to ask about my Chosen, about Aydin and the others, but I trample my need to know. I doubt he would tell me the truth anyway.
“Drink this,” Siah demands again, pressing the cup against my surrendering lips.
Liquid fills my mouth, and I’m surprised when it’s not the water I was expecting it to be. The consistency is thicker, and the flavor is somewhat sweet. I swallow it down, and Siah forces another mouthful. It dawns on me what I’m drinking, and I try to jerk my head away and close my mouth, but Siah has the cup wedged between my teeth, and I can’t clamp them down all the way. He tilts my head back and forces more liquid into my mouth. I cough and sputter and swallow more of the blood he’s forcing down my throat, and I feel some of it spill out of my mouth and drip down the side of my face.
When I’m choking on the last of the cup’s contents, Siah releases his strong hold and backs away from me.
“Why the fuck are you forcing me to drink blood?” I accuse, my painful, barely there voice not expressing the amount of rage I’m currently experiencing right now.
“Like I said, it will help you recover much quicker. You’ll be able to replenish the magic that was stripped from you faster, and you’re going to need that.”
Like his words just magically ignited the blood I choked down, a tingle works its way through me, and with each second that passes, I start to feel better. Siah gives me a look that smugly communicates an I told you so, but I refuse to recognize that he was right, not when he’s the reason I’m here. He betrayed us. I was a fucking idiot for believing a stranger. With that thought, I push at the parameters of my feeling better and try to call on the runes behind my ear. My breath hitches when the pain slams into me, and I quickly abandon trying to contact my Chosen.
Sorrow floods me, rushing in to mix with my bitterness and fury, and I can feel the sobs forming in my chest. I glare at Siah and shake my head. “Why?” is all I can croak out before I slam down the floodgates on my surging emotions. I will not cry in front of this fucker. I will not let him see one millisecond of weakness from me, I