Vérzavar Ház

Chapter 9: No Warning, No Fighting Back

Mordoc–how had the bloodhound not noticed the subtle shift in Lidia's scent? In Ruhn's? Or had he, and been biding his time to spring the trap shut?

-House of Sky and Breath, pg. 772

'The blade is freshly sharpened. Not serrated. As far as this work goes, it should be... less painful.'

Ruhn had not deconstructed that midnight black wall surrounding his mind, but her voice still echoed there. A chiming bell in the quiet. The Hind had hardly spoken a word to him when she entered the cell, electing instead for the connection they shared. The Valbaran prince could at least acknowledge that her expression held no joy. Her golden eyes were dark and haunted and rimmed with the bruises left by lack of sleep, the elegant line of her jaw tense.

"You look like shit," he'd said. Because he was a colossal dick. His gut twisted when her eyes remained empty, no visible reaction to be found. No sneer of derision, no punishing fist. Nothing.

"I hope you don't expect me to thank you for sharpening the dagger that is currently being used to slice open my flesh," he growled. Golden eyes flicked up, irritation flashing.

'You're insufferable.' The Hind circled him, the silver blade glinting in the yellow fae-light. 'Forearm."

Before every cut, every searing slice, she warned him; just as she always had when it was her hand that held the implement with which she and her lover played their sadistic games. It echoed in his head before the pain bloomed and he felt the trickle of blood beading and dribbling down over his skin.

"That's why you love me," he hissed.

"I'm going to punch you."

"Well that's straightforw–" the air was forced from his body as her fist drove into his stomach. The strength of her punch was so disproportionate to how dainty and manicured her hands always appeared. "Fuck me," he groaned.

'Can't say I didn't warn you.'

Well, she had a point there. But Ruhn just shrugged, as much as he could manage, and allowed his lips to curl into a smug grin. "Is that all you got?" She had circled to his back again, but he was sure he'd earned an eye roll at the very least.

'Shoulder blades."

The Valbaran prince cursed again as pain erupted across his upper back. But he would not be deterred. Would not admit weakness.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder about this fearsome reputation of yours. A breaker of rebels, renowned for her coldness and cruelty. But you've done a shit job of breaking me."

'If it were my intention to break you, you'd be a blubbering mess on the floor.' Her voice was cool and detached, but not unlike the flame-swathed female he thought he knew. Had wanted to know. That desire had backfired spectacularly.

"How benevolent of you," he scoffed. "I'm sure there are many others who would've appreciated such forethought."

Another fist to his gut. No warning this time. Only the golden glow of an intense glare peering up at him through thick, dark lashes and a grim expression, smooth as marble.

'I am not proud of the things I have done, Ruhn. You say many others, but I can recall them by name. I see their faces, as clearly as if I saw them yesterday.' Her gaze bore into him, and Ruhn didn't quite have a scathing retort for that. He swallowed, throat working against his need to regain the upper hand of the conversation. 'I told you that your soul would be forfeit if you were not careful. How do you think I knew to warn you of such a fate?'