Chapter 218. Kisten
Though Lysandra knew the circumstances hadn’t changed, she dared to hope.
The torch flickered in her hands as she made the journey down the dungeons once more, ignoring the stench as she hurried along.
Her night robe dragged across the floors and she made a halt in front of the silver cage, shoving the torch through the bars so violently, the demon within recoiled from the light, shuffling back into the darkest corners of her cell.
"You lied to me," Lysandra snapped.
Gnarled claws ran across bone. "Did I now? One life to preserve all. The sacrifice was paid in full. You got what you wanted. The bonds have been broken."
"I wanted her dead."
The creature jerked forward, hands curling around the silver bars, and whatever remained of its decaying flesh sizzled on contact. "You like to pretend this is for the greater good, Lysssss. Some part of you believes it. But it has begun to drive you mad, hasn’t it?"
Those soulless eyes lowered to where Lysandra’s blood dripped over the crown, that accursed ruby. "Counting down the days you die. Dreaming it. Fearing it. You do not care what comes of this little world of yours. You only want to live."
It’s mangled face pressed against the bars. "You should know. Your actions did alter something."
Lysandra’s heart skipped. Perhaps, she had bought herself some more time. "What?"
But the demon hissed with a cruel smile. "The method of your death. It will be slow. And it will be painful."
The Lycan Queen exhaled. "Lyanne," she said softly. "You were right. I could never be the Queen you were and would’ve been." She remembered the feel of the blood on her hands as she had torn out Soren from his mother’s womb. Lysandra’s bottom lip quivered slightly. "But I kept my promise. I have raised him. Kept him alive."
She paused. "He turned out better than I would’ve imagined..." Lysandra spent the next half hour talking about Soren.
And while she did, she caught a glimpse of something human in the demon’s eyes. But she knew it wasn’t Lyanna. Sometimes, when a demon took possession of a body, it took the memories, too.
Whatever feeling existed in those unholy depths was nothing but familiarity.
Still, Lysandra continued. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to say the words before. Maybe she had just been running from her own crime. All of the blood on her hands. The reality that the crown she had killed to place on her brow might have given her power, but it came with a cost. A cost she had been paying for decades.
Lysandra knew the biggest reason she was now having a conversation with a demon because she missed the sister she murdered. She missed her older sister’s embrace. She missed the days when things were simple and they were just girls giggling over what males they might choose in their harems.
The demon crushed the bars. "Let me see him. Please, Lyssssssss... Once."
The Queen lifted her chin. "You will. In the same hell we will all be rot in if that girl is not gone." Her lips curved. "But I imagine if I want to get the job done right, I’ll have to do it myself. Which means," she leaned over. "I have no further use for you anymore."
"Wait!" it shrieked, rattling the bars as the Queen tossed the torch onto the hayed floor of the cell.
And watched it go up in flames.
***
The smell of burning flesh filled the air and Ryder’s roar bounced off the walls.
They had been torturing them for so long, their days began and ended in the small, hidden chamber that didn’t see even a twinge of sunlight. The horrid stench of piss and blood and decay teased Kisten’s nose as he panted, his head hung low while he remained suspended from the chains above his head. Much like his brothers.
The warden, their sadistic torturer, sighed and rolled up his bloodied sleeves.
"We’ve been at this for eight weeks, boys," he drawled, plucking the poker from the set of torture weapons he favored. And though Kisten had grown familiar with the pain of the poker, his heartbeat still quickened when the warden dipped the poker into molten ash so hot, it turned the poker red-hot.
He walked around Kisten, holding the poker so close to his skin, Kisten started to tremble.
"A name," he said. "A place. Any place, and all of this will come to an end."
Bastian laughed in the corner, spitting blood from his mouth.
Kisten would guess that what Bastian found incredibly funny about their situation was that they were, for once, being truthful.
They truly didn’t know where their mother was. She had conveniently slipped away when they were being shot down like animals with bullets and tranquilizers.
They had always known they were only useful to her when she needed breeding stallions and foot soldiers to do her dirty work, but sometimes, it took experiencing shit to make it sink in real quick.
"Fuck off," Kisten growled.
The warden’s response was driving the poker into his spine.
Agony ripped up Kisten’s back. His body jerked hard against the chains, every muscle locking as the searing metal sank deeper. He clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth threatened to crack. A low growl tore from his throat, but he did not give the warden the satisfaction of screaming.
That didn’t stop the fucker from twisting the poker slightly, watching Kisten pant.
His vision flickered at the edges and he heard the hiss of metal, braced himself for another when the door swung open, and a guard came rushing in, slightly out of breath.
"The Queen is here," he announced, and not even a breath later, the door opened.
Kisten had always seen the Queen from a distance, but up close, she was even more devastating. Her deep crimson dress trailed behind her, the hem darkening as it swept through the pools of blood on the stone floor.
And she came to a stop directly in front of Bastian.
"Not so close, Your Majesty," the warden said and it was the first time he heard the man sound... subdued.
The Queen ignored the warden and studied Bastian for a moment. "You Hunt men have always been something to look at." She tilted her head like an adder. "It must have been difficult growing up without your father, knowing that he prefers to warm my bed than set eyes on you. But you do have your mother to thank for that. No one likes being associated with scum."