59. Rhyland

Rhyland

59

H ere I am again. Rotting in some goddamn black pit, only this time that bastard Azrael is banking on using me as fucking bait to lure Dani to him.

These damn stone walls might as well be bleeding black, trapping me in a pitch pit stinking of death and old shit.

Shadows slink around like live things, a thick blanket of darkness choking out any speck of hope. I can almost hear the ghost of my old self, that green kid, rattling off prayers to my Norse gods, who have turned a deaf ear. Now? I don't bother wasting my breath on begging. My trust's in the toughened core of my endless vampire soul.

Nothing but heavy silence down here, broken up by the screech of these rusty-ass chains every time I try to suck in some air. Suspended from the ceiling, arms wrenched above my head—chained up tight. Can barely brush the ground with my feet.

I've lost track of time being suspended down here, trapped here with nothing but my own thoughts for company. Time down here bleeds together into one endless, nightmarish stretch of existence.

Days?

Weeks?

I have no fucking clue anymore.

Time has lost all meaning in this hellhole, each moment stretching out into an eternity of pain and despair. The darkness presses in on me from all sides, a suffocating blanket threatening to smother the last embers of my sanity.

I drift in and out of consciousness, my mind playing tricks on me, conjuring up visions of my worst fears and deepest regrets.

The pain's intense, like a motherfucker, with my body stretched tight, and I can barely draw a breath against the crushing weight on my ribs.

This is some hardcore bullshit. But I'll be damned if I give these assholes the satisfaction of hearing me complain. Just gotta ride out whatever sick game they've got planned next. Not the first time trying to break me, but I swear it'll be their last.

The beast inside is clawing its way out, raging in the fucking darkness now that Dani's vanished—haven't been fed in days, weeks, I don't know anymore. The bloodlust is reaching its peak. My fangs ache for flesh. But I'll be damned if I lose my grip. I've gotta keep the faith that she'll come back to me. I know it in my soul.

I've weathered some shit, but this place wants to swallow me up and spit out whatever's left. Can't let that happen. Gotta dig deep and hold on—for her.

"Azrael! You piece of shit, let me the hell out!" I'm not gonna let whatever twisted game they're playing drag Dani into this go down.

Minutes tick by, then the door of the cell grinds open, and a flood of torchlight damn near blinds me. Amara struts in, Azrael—her damn enforcer—right on her heels. They're both grinning like they've cornered me, and it churns my gut to see it. But I lock eyes with them, not giving an inch.

"Seems my pet's getting antsy in his pen," Amara drawls, running a pointed nail down my chest. I keep my stare dead ahead, not giving her the satisfaction of reacting to her bullshit.

"Where's my brothers, you ugly bitch?" I demand.

Azrael's fist plows into my face. The coppery, metallic taste of blood floods my mouth in an instant. "Tsk, tsk, Mr. Eriksson. Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's rude to speak out of turn?" he chides, his voice dripping with mock disapproval and sadistic amusement.

Amara's icy cackle bounces off the walls. "Mmm….your filthy tongue only fuels me more. You ready to give in to my desires yet—my pet?"

I raise my head and spit blood at her feet. She snarls, her claws twitching to tear me apart. But she smiles slowly instead, a viper waiting to strike. "Alright then. We'll keep this little game going a while longer."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, I'm just waiting until you do." She cracks her palm against my bare chest, curiosity burning in her eyes. "I'm really itching to find out if what you're spouting is true or not," she snaps at Azrael.

He grins back, "There's only one way to find out."

What the hell are they on about?

She tears into me with those claws, shredding me up like a goddamn piece of meat, then goes to town, sucking down my blood 'til my head's spinning and my legs are shaking.

She purrs, her tongue darting out to lick her bloody lips. "Mmm...delicious," she moans, her hands caressing my body in a sensual manner. "Your blood is like an aphrodisiac. I can feel it coursing through me."

I want to fucking puke.

"But I can't help but wonder...what other fluids of yours would satisfy me in more...intimate ways?" Her eyes gleam with a wicked hunger as she leans in closer, ready to explore all the dark desires that linger within her.

"Fucking kill me now, damn it," I growl, a sneer of disdain aimed right at her.

"Didn't I tell you?" Azrael says, eyeing her like I'm not even in the goddamn room.

"My dear, your information never fails to arouse me. The notion of vampiric essence being so intoxicating never crossed our minds—we saw it as a mere poison, a toxin. It is nothing short of pure ecstasy."

She grinds herself on me, staking her claim like I'm her damn prize, and in this moment, nothing tempts me more than the thought of sweet, dark nothingness.

Her seductive gaze meets mine as she whispers, "It's lust in a venomous bottle." I can feel her twisted desires seeping through every word.

In a split second, she yanks down my pants, and they hit the floor with a thud. Bound and strained to the fucking max, I keep fighting against her, but every tug just amps up the excruciating agony pulsing through my arms.

"You have no idea the things I'm gonna do to you, pet," she growls, high as a fucking kite and buzzing from my blood. Nothing can stop her now, and my gut twists with nausea at the thought.

She grabs my balls with a firm grip, then takes hold of my flaccid cock and starts to pump it roughly. I feel a surge of disgust and anger as she touches me, and I have to fight the urge to vomit.

"Oh, my, my... The rumors about men of your stature appear to hold water—well endowed, indeed," she purrs.

Azrael's voice cuts through the air like a serrated blade, his words dripping with disdain. "For fuck's sake, Amara, I don't have time for your incessant, horny shit right now. I assure you, there will be ample time to indulge your depraved little fantasies later," Azrael scoffs, his voice laden with exasperation and contempt. "Keep your hands off the merchandise for now," he demands, his lip curling contemptuously.

Amara's body locks up rigid as hell, like some invisible force just slams the brakes on her. She's forced to release her grip on me, and I let out the breath I'd been choking back.

Even Azrael can tell this is one fucked-up situation.

Azrael forcefully inserts himself into my field of vision, his iron grip seizing my jaw in a bruising hold as he pries my eyelids apart with ruthless fingers. "Well, well, well, just as I suspected... the clock's ticking, Rhyland, and it won't be long before that savage beast inside you takes the reins. And when it does, your soul will be served up to Moretemis on a silver platter—now that's what I call a truly delectable prize," he gloats, his laughter ringing out like a demented hyena reveling in the twisted hilarity of his own sick joke.

I am not letting this bastard get to me. He won't fucking break me, no way in hell. My brain is spinning, figuring out how these two are in cahoots and what twisted game they're playing. I cock an eyebrow, glancing between these two dipshits. "So what's the story with you assclowns anyway? Bumpin' uglies?" I spit, my words dripping with venom.

Azrael's icy stare bores into me, his eyes narrowing with barely contained rage. "Mind your tongue, Rhyland, or I'll slice it clean off," he hisses, his voice a deadly whisper.

My laughter echoes through the room, a harsh, manic sound that borders on hysteria. Am I losing my mind? Possibly. But I couldn't care less, not when I'm facing down these two sadistic fucks.

"Oh, did I piss you off?" I quip with a smirk, my split lip stretching painfully with the motion. "Hey, if you're into pussy that reeks of rot, who am I to judge?"

Another damn fist slams into my face, the taste of blood flooding my mouth, coppery and thick. I spit it out, watching with grim satisfaction as it splatters across the floor.

Then Azrael makes a beeline for the door, Amara in tow—both of them strutting out like they couldn't give a damn, smug in their belief that time and goddamn solitude are gonna break me, that I'll crumble under the weight of my own thoughts.

Left in the dark, naked and bleeding, my mind can't help but wander to Lucian and Erik. Are my brothers locked up close by, or have they been dealt a shittier hand? That bitch and that bastard have their fates hanging over my head like a juicy carrot, just another mindfuck in their twisted game.

What if my brothers are getting screwed over while I'm rotting in this shithole? The last time I saw Erik, he was chained up just like I was, his silver eyes burning defiantly. And Lucian...that smartass is still my blood, no matter what shit we've been through. If I've lost them, the blame's on me. I should've fought harder, should've protected them better. But here I am, screwing up with them just like I'm screwing up with Dani.

Dani, my fierce, gorgeous angel. The thought of her in Amara and Azrael's clutches, suffering like I did, makes my blood run cold. "If they get their claws into you like they did with me, I'll never fucking forgive myself," I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion.

I try talking to her, sending my words through our mental link, but it's like shouting into a damn black hole—nothing echoes back, just a yawning emptiness that threatens to swallow me whole.

I'm bleeding out, and this godforsaken collar has fucked up my healing, leaving me weak and dizzy. My sight's getting fuzzy, my grip on consciousness slipping away like sand through my fingers. I'm flickering between moments of peace and some fevered, hellish dreams, my mind a kaleidoscope of nightmares.

I'm watching my brothers getting cut down as some shadowy motherfucker with eyes like firestorms tears through everything I give a damn about. Adrian's icy warnings are repeating in my mind, a haunting soundtrack to the horrors unfolding before me. And Dani, she's caught like a fly in Amara's web, struggling and screaming as the Shadow Queen's poison seeps into her veins.

I'm pulling at these damn chains, desperate to save her, but she's fading further and further away until all that's left is the dark, a suffocating void that threatens to consume me. And my fuck-ups, they're right there with me, hounding me, even as I slip into the abyss, a chorus of accusation and recrimination that follows me down, down, down...