The Heart's Ashes
Page 143

Jason rolled me off him, shoving me against a wall then squatted, grabbing my face sharply. “You are such a pain in the arse.”
I pushed at his hand, twisting my face away, but he squeezed my cheeks harder, my gashed lip popping under the scab, making blood prickle out.
“Show him,” he whispered through his teeth, into my hair. “He’s in there, right now, show him your thoughts; show him what I did to you.”
“No.” I shook my head, pushing my feet on the ground—attempting to shuffle away.
“Show him,” he raised his voice a little more.
“No. I don’t want him to die with that on his soul.”
“You will!” he yelled and bashed my skull into the wall; the room spun. My head felt heavy, full of cold-rushing-away-with-warm liquid. “Ara, don’t pass out on me again,” he warned.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as Jason’s face blurred from the edges, inward.
Chapter 24
Torture, by definition, means; to distort something; to inflict pain. It can be taken in many forms, and the worst, by far, is the torture of knowledge; knowing what will happen, and not being able to run. He wants me to kill David. And I don’t know how to stop that from happening.
My mind meandered back to my body, and one eye peeked open a little. Strangely, in what felt like a cosy space, the soft orange glow over my bloodied hand was enough to make me feel a little safe. If it weren’t for the cold stone ground under my bruised face, I might be able to fall asleep for a little while.
“She’s not breathing,” a voice said.
“She is. She’s fine,” Jason muttered from above me; I could feel his boot pressing firmly down on my ribs—stopping my lungs from expanding.
“Get off her,” the other voice ordered.
His foot came down harder. “Make me.”
My nose stung as I held my breath—so tight, hurting more at the front of my chest, right down the middle. My ribs felt cracked all the way around, like a steel ribbon wrapped my lungs.
“Why is she so uncovered?” someone asked. “What have you done to her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Did you—” the soft, anguished voice paused. “Did you touch her?”
No. Tell the man no.
“She’s waking up,” Jason said. “She’s listening.”
“Ara, my love? Please—don’t get up. Stay down,” the voice begged.
“David?” I murmured.
Jason rolled me with his foot, the air expelling from my lungs with a short cough as I bent my knees and pushed up off the ground.
“Ara?” David gasped, fright expanding his tone.
I looked up from the grey stone floor and turned my head to see the colour drain from his face. Kneeling by the fire, his hands bound, my David looked at me as the wide-eyed, open-mouthed shock slipped away to an angered scowl—half masked by what I read to be excruciating pain.
I burst into tears at the sight of him; his hair messed, a deep gash across his eyebrow, and clouds of dirt parted by red trails—clear over his brow and the hollows of his gaunt cheeks. “David? What did they do to you?”
He smiled and shook his head, his onyx eyes flooded with warmth. “I’m fine, Ara. I’m okay. It’s you—oh, my love, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, David.” I revelled in his name on my lips, ignoring the sting of my dry throat. “I’m sorry, I should never’ve trusted—”
“Shut up,” Jason ordered.
“Don’t blame yourself, Ara.” David ignored his brother, edging forward, reaching for me, but shot back with belligerent force, Jason’s foot at the heart of his chest.
“No,” I screamed as he fell, narrowly missing the fire behind him.
“Do not attempt communication with the Lilithian, brother!” Jason moved back quickly and stood beside me.
David struggled to his knees again, roaring with anger—clearly holding back his cry of pain.
Lightning flashed outside the long, wall-length window beside me, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of the revulsion David witnessed; my swollen lip and eye looked infected, weeping, while black-filled cuts scattered across my skeletal frame, barely covered by the ripped, discoloured dress, parting at the chest to expose a jagged scar. But the colour of my eyes shocked me most; black—like David’s.
“Ara?” he whispered in a gruff, strained voice, tilting his head. I knew the pleading in his eyes, I could feel him reaching out to me, desperate to hold me and, with one touch, make all the pain go away. “What have they done to you?”
I blinked, wishing I could make my eyes blue again. “I’m okay.”
“Enough!” someone yelled from behind, and suddenly, the room spread out around me; it was no small room at all, but the same room I came to stand before the council and be judged, just days ago. Except, this time, we stood between the windows and the council table—the men facing us, like passengers on a station platform. “Time is wasting.” Drake moved away from where he stood behind Jason, and seated himself on the chair among his councillors.
“If you think you’ve won,” I said, looking at Drake, “you’re wrong. I won’t kill him, and—”
“You—” Jason grabbed my chin again and squeezed, “—will do what I say.”
“Ara,” David called to me, his voice fused with desperation. “Ara—don’t try to fight him. Just do what he says.”
“No.” I shook my head slowly, tears filling my eyes. “I can’t kill you. I can’t live without you, David.”
“How touching,” Jason spat and grabbed my arm. “Then I will hurt you until you do.”
“I don’t care. You can do what you want to me, but I won’t kill him.”
“So now you find your fight. Pity you didn’t have this much fire down in the dungeon,” he taunted.
“Ara. My love,” David called to me, shaking his bound wrists. “Just do it, please? I’ll see you again. I promise. I’ll wait for you in the afterlife—it’s what you always wanted. Eternity, with me—”
My mind vaguely noticed Jason drop my arm and stomp over to David.
“We’ll be together there, forever, I pro—” The vowel cut short with a heaving breath as he folded over Jason’s fist.