Intangible - An ACOTAR story

Four: I Burn Too

***WARNING: This chapter contains one aspect of Azriel's past that some readers may find disturbing/confronting. If you do not want to read this part, skip past all the text in italics. I do hope you read it though as this is a significant part of his character development and eventual healing process, but it's up to you. Thanks, and enjoy.***

Azriel huddled into the corner of his cell, pressing his back against the cold, stone wall. The darkness had whispered to him, informing him that they were in the hall. His stepbrothers. A few minutes later he'd heard their laughter as they made their way toward him, the sounds of their footsteps mingling to sound like the paws of a great, vicious beast. The stone was rough beneath his fingers, but he tried to cling to it. Tried to cling to the shadows that could hide him from them. But then they were there, their sneering faces appearing at the window in his heavy, iron door.

"Look," the older one said, "the freak must've heard us coming."

"You scared Az? Are you scared of us?" The younger of his stepbrothers gave him a purely evil grin. They were both a few years his senior and strong as all hell. Azriel didn't respond, pressing his small, pale hands against the wall even harder. His thin shirt was coated in sweat, despite the chill in the cell.

"You got the key, right?" The older one looked to his brother quizzically.

"Yep." The sound of the lock rattling had Azriel's heart skipping a beat. They'd never come in before. Where had they gotten the key? His stepmother had the key. The shadows that had taken to swirling around Azriel's small frame jerked back into the corners as the door swung open. He wished they'd come back. He didn't want to be alone with these boys.

"Get up freak. We want to try something out." They each grabbed one of his arms, pulling him toward the door. Az kicked and struggled, earning a grunt from one of them as his bare foot made contact, but they were too strong. His wings dragged on the floor behind him as they marched him along the corridor. They passed other cells like his, some occupied by criminals, others dark and silent.

The younger of the brothers let go of his bony arm for a moment to unlock another door. It was one of the interrogation rooms. The stone floor was stained and splotchy in the centre, just below the set of shackles that hung from the ceiling on long, rusted chains.

His stepbrothers didn't take him near the chains though. No, they shoved him down against the wall. The wall near the brazier. The older brother began stoking the glowing coals while the younger stood over him, still sneering. Azriel knew better than to run. They'd just catch him anyway and he was too cold and hungry to make it far. He just sat there, huddled against the wall once again.

"How long do you reckon it'll take?" the older brother asked, a smirk falling onto his face.

"Hmmm, I give it about an hour," the younger one said, thinking for a moment.

"Really? I don't know, if he's got much of father's power, I reckon it could be quicker. Maybe, twenty minutes."

What were they talking about? Why did his power matter? He'd never even been trained to use it. The only power he'd ever used was... Azriel went still as death as it finally clicked. He'd only ever been able to use his natural healing abilities. They wanted to see how long it would take him to heal if they... his breaths started coming faster and faster as one of them produced a bucket of dark liquid from the corner of the room, bringing it over and setting it beside him. Az could smell it then, the oil.

The taller of the brothers grabbed him again, forcing him to stand. He moved behind Az, grabbing each of his wrists in vice-like hands and holding Azriel's arms out in front of him.