The Sleeper's Harp (The Arcane Artifacts, #1)

Chapter 19 - Trading Stories

My stomach churned, hearing Bastian's words. "They tortured you?" I managed. As a student of history, I was well acquainted with the troubled times surrounding the witch hunts and Inquisition. It had spanned most of the known world. To know he'd been tangled up in it...

Bastian nodded.

"For how long? How did you get free? Was it really Sara's doing? What if...?" I bit the skin on my lower lip. "What if her father simply found out and circumvented her?"

A dark laugh burst from his chest. "Believe me, Sugar. I thought it for days, as they cut me open, experimented. I couldn't believe otherwise, couldn't fathom a world where she would have betrayed me. Amidst my screams, I kept telling myself that as soon as she found out, she'd find a way to stop it."

Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed, trying to dampen the acidity, to rid myself of the sour taste. "She sold you out?"

He scoffed. "She came to see me. I won't repeat what she said, but essentially, yes. I told her what they were doing was wrong. That everything we'd shared was real. She claimed we were a lie, because I'd never told her who I really was. But...it had never been a lie for me. She said that I deserved my punishment because I wasn't human."

"She...she said that?"

Bastian gave a jerk of a nod. I felt a tear slip from my eyes, and I hastily wiped it away on the back of my hand.

"She claimed I didn't feel in the same way humans feel. But I can assure you, Eleanor, I felt every bite of the knife, every slash of the whip, every bone break and reforge, every flame, every brand. I felt it all, and it was excruciating. Though, not as excruciating as the pain of betrayal."

"Oh, my God." I couldn't stop myself. My heart felt like it was shattering, breaking into tiny pieces, all for a supernatural I'd only met two days ago. Did he think I was the same way? That because I was human, I'd be like the ones who'd hurt him? "I...Bastian, I would never hurt you like that. Never betray you, no matter the circumstances. I know we..." I swallowed. "I know we don't really know each other, but I could never subject anyone to that."

His eyes darted away. "Never make promises like that, Sugar. Things are different. Times are different. Perhaps not now, but who knows what might have been, hundreds of years ago?"

"I mean it," I said through gritted teeth, squaring my shoulders. "Even if you don't believe me."

He didn't answer. The silence that stretched between us made my stomach squirm. I knew what I had to do—knew and dreaded it, but I did it anyway.

"Luke and I had sociology together," I managed. My pulse accelerated. Perhaps this had been his plan—tell me about his past so I'd tell him about mine. It was obvious that his truth wasn't often shared, if at all. That he trusted me with it, that he'd trusted me with so much, was a weighty privilege I wouldn't squander.

His head snapped in my direction, eyes wary.

"He started sitting next to me during lecture. At first, we were study buddies. It turned into something more. He made me feel special, bragged to his friends about how smart I was. He'd always been popular among our classmates. I became popular by association. We dated for a year before I realized something was...off. Everything seemed fine, and maybe it was just the honeymoon phase. But the bragging stopped shortly after we became official, and he would say things, little jabs about the way I did stuff, about how his way was the only way, the right way."

My jaw clenched as I was forced to remember those times, even though they'd never been the worst of it. "It didn't get bad until I started the master's program. The first time he hit me was because we'd gone out to dinner and another man had bought me a drink at the bar. He'd slipped away to the bathroom, and hadn't come back for ten minutes, maybe? I didn't know the man, and he'd purchased the drink before I could decline. Luke chose that time to appear. It wasn't until...well, we got home, and he was furious. I told him it was nothing, that he should be flattered another man found me attractive. Instead, he backhanded me."