A Luna's Flame

Chapter Forty-Eight

**Trigger Warning: briefly mentions violence and descriptive imagery 

A deep, muffled growl that shook distant chains could be heard as one of the burly warriors slammed the door shut behind me, leaving only two men alone in the room with me. Nonetheless, I sighed with hidden relief. I looked around at the torch-lit room, taking note of the organized display of torture instruments. This was the best-lit room on this level, aside from the break room, unlike the rest of the dungeon. From the corner of my eye, I could spot a long silver whip twinkling from its spot on a small wooden table amongst the rest of the weapons. I stifled the shudder that threatened to rattle my spine. The gloved man yanked my chains, stopping me atop a dark red stain on the stone floor. The smell from the drain between my feet almost made me regret the decisions that led me here. I looked ahead as the guard adjusted my position before placing the heavy, silver chains into fixtures on the ceiling. My arms were shoulder-length apart, and my hands were numb by the time he finished. I heard the door open behind me, its rusted hinges squeaking with effort. I couldn't see who it was but listened to his loud movements. Suddenly, the fixture I was attached to began to move, hoisting me up until only my toes touched the ground. The unknown man walked in front of me to assess my chains before looking at me smugly. He was bald with cold, black eyes that matched his attire. The pieces of his tanned skin that was exposed were decorated with countless scars and stories. My eyes followed him as he moved away, struggling to watch him. The gloved warrior beside me removed his gloves and looked at me with dark satisfaction.

"If I were you, I would focus on keeping my footing, Rogue. Would hate for you to move the wrong way and damage that pretty face of yours," he taunted.

"And here I thought you were mute," I said with fake shock.

I leaned in as far as my chains allowed.

"I like you better scared and quiet. Don't think I haven't seen the way your hands tremble, pup," I whispered with a wink.

He slapped me in response, forcing my head to the side.

"I can't wait to see the damage of what he's done to you when I come back and drag your sorry ass out of here," he seethed.

"I guess you have balls after all," I said with a chuckle before spitting on the ground.

He growled lowly before storming off. I watched as best as I could as he thudded out of the room, but not before depositing a key on a hook next to the door. Sensing the change in the room after the door closed, I immediately reinforced the barrier between Enyo and me with all the strength I could as I faced the wall before me. Just as I finished, searing white pain wrapped around my mid back, blood splattered across the floor and walls. I wasn't given time between lashings to ready myself, nor did his force behind each blow waver. Despite it all, I made sure the mental wall did not fall. The wet crack of the whip shredding my back, the rattle of the red-tinge silver chains, and the man's harsh breathing were the only things that could be heard in the oppressing room. 

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My lip was bloody and raw as I bit down harshly into it, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my cries. I began to disassociate from my surroundings for my sanity and his well-being as the whip continued to brutalize my flesh. The wall I had fixated my gaze on began to flash images of my past, tempting me closer. The stone gave way to polished cedar wood as the room's cold air started to warm. Vivid streaks of orange and chocolate brown danced around my vision. I blinked hard as my back shook from the punishing whipping. When I opened my eyes, I saw her in her serene beauty. I was back in my meagerly decorated room that smelled like the bouquet of honeysuckle and star jasmine my mother would often put on my windowsill. My beautiful mother was sitting on the edge of my poorly assembled bed, dressed in her favorite marmalade dress. A worn fantasy book sat on her lap as she looked at me with bright grey eyes, her lush, ebony curls pinned back from her face. I heard the sounds of pans clacking together and high-pitched laughter behind me as the inviting smell of Nox's famous French toast called to my rumbling stomach, but I never took my eyes off my mother. She opened her arms widely with a large, stunning smile stretching across her face, just like she used to do when I would come back home from school. I felt my breath catch as my eyes burned with unshed tears as I walked into her loving embrace, the book falling to the floor. She rubbed my wild curls back before placing a long, tender kiss on my forehead. I smiled softly as my head lulled forward as the warrior continued to whip into my delicate tissue, having reached his twenty-fifth lash five minutes ago.