Eclipse

21.

Ritual

Pain resonated dully through my body while my wolf remained silent, too much in pain to make a sound. It wasn't just my own pain that I felt; hers was a deep-rooted pain, eating her up from the inside out, and I could feel it too. All the while, I lay limply against the cold wall that seemed to thrive on my body heat, parasitically absorbing it and leaving me as icy as a corpse. I listened intently, waiting for the door to burst to open again for the fourth time. I'd been counting, and an hour had passed—or at least, that's how much I thought had passed. I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be able to last. Moore had come and gone a total of three times, and he'd left the last time in a simmering rage that threatened to overflow in one dreadful tsunami that would wipe out everything within his vicinity, namely me. I was almost afraid that he would take it too far and end up killing me, but too bad for him that my lips would be sealed while I burned.

The scent of the Akonit had long ago dulled into an uncomfortably unpleasant odour in the air, and it seemed that the herbs and flowers I was lying on, rather than preventing the cuts from healing, they were further aggravating them.

A soft click that was barely discernible pulled me out of my thoughts. The only reason why my ears registered the sound was because Moore's typical entrance involved a loud bang that was accompanied with a mood to behold.

"Finally cooled off, have we, Moore?" I asked softly so as to soothe my raw throat. The quiet feet padded towards me, until I could see the owner of the leather shoes, a man who made me want to spit at his feet, if I had any left in the desert that was my mouth. Traitor.

"Oh. it's you," I said flatly, before adding disdainfully, "Traitor."

"I am not a traitor," Jace replied emotionlessly, looking down at me in distaste. "I was just a bartender in a club that caters for both Nephilim and Lupi. I never was on your side. Wow, he actually left you to rot with your vomit. Gross, although he always did have a flare for theatrics. Get up."

"No."

"Get up."

"No." Annoyance flickered across his face. "Do you really think that I can get up when I can barely move an inch and I'm being weighed down by these?" i asked, raising an eyebrow as I weakly gestured to my manacles.

Jace rolled his eyes as he pulled me up roughly by my upper arm, and I hissed in pain. He examined my body with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "Moore really did do a number on you, didn't he? I've always wondered how he vents his anger, seeing how he's always an angry asshole."

"I'm so glad that at least you're finding this amusing," I muttered as he unlocked my shackles. My raw skin stung in the open air. I revelled in my brief freedom—that is, until he snapped on a pair of handcuffs to my wrists.

"We can't have you running off now, can we?" he said cheerfully as he started dragging me along, nails digging cruelly into my flesh.

"Hey! What? Where are you taking me? What's going on?" I asked frantically, trying my best to gain purchase on the cement with my cut bare feet but to no avail.

"You'll find out soon enough, Megan, don't worry."

His use of my real name nearly brought the skeletal me from its grave, but I managed to keep Jessica in place. Just.

"Jace, why are you doing this?" I whispered desperately. Where ever he was taking me, nothing good was waiting for me, and as useless as it was, I had to try and escape. "This isn't you!" You idiot. What do you know about him? Last time you saw him, he was trying to take advantage of the alcohol in your system!