49. Set the trap

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If you've not read THE INITIUM of this book, this chapter will make no sense. Please read that first!!!

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Mors Vincit Omnia.

Death comes to us all.

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G R E Y H O U N D

IN THE DIM light I see her—tall and determined. The steady rise and fall of her chest, the heart beating underneath.

She stands alone.

"Greyhound." My name falls from her lips.

I stretch out my hand.

"Come to me." My voice is hoarse.

A slow smile tugs at her lips as she takes a step forward.

Stella—My radiant morning star—coming to me, at last.

SIX HOURS AGO...

The whip strikes flesh with a resounding crack. The boy keels over in pain.

"Stop." He begs. "Please stop."

Dimitri, one of my trusted captains raises his whip and strikes again. I watch as the flesh on his back is ripped apart and blood splatters against the walls. A few drops land on my face, but I make no effort to wipe it away.

"Continue." I order.

The boy lets out a pitiful whimper.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—AAAAAHHHH!"

Blood trickles down his zigzagged skin wounds and forms a puddle on the stone floor. I stride towards him, ensuring my shoes step in the puddle. Crouching down, until we are at eye-level, I whisper. "Tell me the truth and I'll set you free."

His lower lip wobbles as he begins to cry.

Pathetic. I keep the disgust off my face, as my nails dig into his skin. "How many?"

"I was—was alone." He says, but his voice comes out shaky.

"Liar."

"It's the truth! I planned it all on my own, because I knew they'd be too scared to help me."

A likely excuse.

Fair hair, pale skin. He must be one of the new ones down in the servant quarters. Rivulets of tears run down his freckled cheeks. There's that five-claw mark branded on his collarbone as a permanent reminder that he belongs to..

 There's that five-claw mark branded on his collarbone as a permanent reminder that he belongs to

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