I blinked, sand scraping my eyes as my vision cleared. They’d chained me to the wall in a desert cave. The stone was red, flaking like shale… Was I in the Red Wilds or somewhere near Sailtown? The latter made more sense given what happened with… A wave of heat and ice flooded my veins, and a growl escaped me before I shoved the emotion away. No.I couldn’t think about that right now. I needed to keep my head clear if I wanted to survive this.

Light came from a smooth hole in the ceiling above, the hiss of falling sand coming from somewhere nearby as the wind shifted. Earthborn iron rubbed against my wrists, digging into my skin like drukkar claws. I inspected my arms—the wounds were deep, my blood flowing freely onto the sandy floor, forming blackened clumps. My legs were numb, the iron preventing me from calling on any magic to heal myself. I only wore my breeches and boots, the rebels having stripped me of my armor when I was captured. I winced, tasting blood as I sat up, the chain from my manacles clanking.

A scrape drew my attention as a Kyrie Remnant stepped into view. I recognized her… Peregrine, the rebel leader I’d met years ago in that warehouse. The night Calyx had died because the slaves had betrayed me. When Striker had—No. Not Striker. Her. Green eyes that flashed with anger before softening in arousal filled my mind before I forced the image away.

Don’t think about her.

Peregrine sneered at me, her yellow hawk-like gaze glinting with malice. “Well, well. Look what the wind blew in. The War Marshal.”

 Her ebony skin glimmered in the low light, her mangled wings just peeking over her shoulders. A faint limp hinted at a life of toil in the mines, but it didn’t diminish her towering presence. She wore her braids like a crown, each one adorned with shimmering beads and feathers. 

She didn’t try to intimidate or deride me as she stepped closer, instead radiating quiet confidence. A leader who had earned her place through years of hard work and dedication, no doubt earning the respect of her followers. 

This wasn’t good. A corrupt leader could be negotiated with; it was the noble ones that sent you to your grave in a hurry.

She circled the cave, studying me with her shrewd, yellow gaze. Finally, she stopped in front of me, her voice quiet but laden with unmistakable loathing. “You know why you’re here. The question is whether you’ll cooperate.”

I cleared my throat, my tongue a dry and scaly thing in my mouth. “What do you want from me?”

“Where are the speaking stones in the castle?”

I ground my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.

“Thank you.” She laughed then, a harsh sound that echoed off the cave walls. “I was hoping to do this the hard way.” Her hawkish eyes pinned me like a mouse in the open desert. “I want you to see what it’s like,” she intoned, her voice cold as Sithos’ fields. “To suffer at the hands of another. Just like you made so many suffer.” She stepped closer and placed one finger on my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze, her nail piercing my skin. “You can’t escape this time,” she hissed, before turning and walking to a leather bag resting against the wall.

I clenched my jaw, determined not to show any emotion or weakness as she yanked on the chain connected to my manacles, dragging me up until I was almost suspended, standing only on the balls of my feet.

The rebels despised me for what I’d done—bringing escaped slaves back to be punished or executed by Rhazien instead of helping them reach freedom. After the mass revolt five years ago, all I had thought about was revenge. Wanting only to retrieve my sword and bring Striker to justice. It was only recently that I regretted my actions. When she—No. Not right now. Despite my shame and anger, I kept my expression neutral and refused to react to Peregrine’s taunts. 

I heard the first lash before I felt it. A sharp sting across my back sent a wave of pain radiating through me. I gasped and clenched my fists, willing myself to remain silent as she raised her whip again. 

The next blow came fast, this time even harder than the first. I gritted my teeth and bit back a scream, focusing instead on breathing through the agony. She stopped after a few more strikes, waiting until I opened my eyes. 

“Where are the speaking stones?” she asked again, her voice cold and emotionless. 

I shook my head, and she smirked before continuing with her ‘interrogation.’ Memories flooded my mind as Peregrine began her work. Of when I was a child and my brother, Rhazien, held me captive. He’d done the same, beating me more for fun and revenge than anything else. I was twelve again, my brother already full grown, his boots echoing down the hall as he approached my cell and I desperately wished I had somewhere, anywhere, to hide as my heart fluttered so fast I thought it would burst.

 With each lash, memories of the past came flooding back to the present. Rhazien forcing me into a maze so he could hunt me down. My mother impassively watching me re-break my fingers so I could heal them properly when my cuffs were removed.

“He’s dead,” I muttered, trying to convince myself, and Peregrine paused.

“Are you ready to talk?” She walked around to face me, my blood dotting her skin like crimson freckles. I averted my gaze, and she glared, striding away to resume her onslaught on my body.

I closed my eyes, willing the memories to fade away until all that remained was the pain. Agony was easier to endure. But thoughts of her crept in. Kael. My Sihaya. I didn’t want to think about her, but I couldn’t help it. I remembered the first time I saw her, standing at the edge of the platform in the colosseum, dressed in sheer white. The setting sun illuminated her silver hair, outlining her curves as she glared at everyone below her. But then her eyes had met mine and my heart clenched as if she had speared it from across the arena. The need to claim her had been overwhelming. I’d found her hate refreshing; I’d thought her honest. Too open in her loathing for us to deceive me. Even when I’d realized she was a rebel, I hadn’t cared, thinking what we’d shared was bigger than that. I’d thought that she’d felt the same, even if she’d been too afraid to admit it.

But it had all been a lie.

A trick to get close enough to kill Rhazien. I’d delivered myself to the rebels, trusting that we’d be together, and pleaded with her to tell them the truth. Her eyes had hardened into an expression I knew all too well, her brother by her side rejected me. I could still taste the bitter bile that had risen from my stomach as I realized she’d been lying to me from the start.

I’d been a fool. Falling for the daughter of a rebel leader. The assassin that had stolen my sword. So desperate for love that I lied to myself. None of it had been real. Red clouded my vision to near blindness as rage coursed through me, blocking out the pain.

All that remained was my need for vengeance—revenge against Kael for breaking my heart, revenge against Peregrine for making me suffer like this, revenge against the rebels for sending Kael to me. With each lash, a new determination formed within me—no matter what happened, I would find a way out of this prison and exact revenge on her for all she had done. I didn’t care how many times Peregrine’s whip ripped the flesh from my bones. Nothing would stand in the way of my retribution.

Her lashes picked up in intensity until I couldn’t hold back my screams or stay conscious for long periods. She continued to break and batter my body for what seemed like an eternity of agony before she stepped away. 

“That was just a taste,” she panted, exhausted and painted in red. Torture took more endurance than most expected. She tossed the whip into the bag against the wall. “Now tell me where the stones are.” 

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was an empty croak. Peregrine laughed—a cruel sound that echoed in the surrounding caves—before turning away and releasing the crank on the chain. I collapsed to the ground in a heap, my face half-buried in the sand.

“I’ll be back with more questions, War Marshal. And you better have answers for me.” 

I lay there for what seemed like hours afterward, trying to ignore the pain as best I could, imagining what I’d do to Kael once I’d claimed her once again. First, I’d take her over my knee, reddening her ass until she squirmed. Then I’d… I tried to ignore how the air reeked of hot sand and blood, with visions of Kael begging me for mercy. I’d gotten through floggings before I’d reached my immortality, and I could do it again.

Quiet footsteps came closer, and I forced my eyes open. I wouldn’t give the rebel leader the satisfaction of breaking me. If Rhazien and my mother hadn’t, no one would.

But it wasn’t Peregrine.

It was her.

She wore loose pale breeches tucked into her boots with a matching jacket underneath a red hooded cloak. Her hood was pulled up, obscuring her face in shadows, with my swords strapped to her back. It was how Striker always dressed on raids. How could I have been so foolish to believe she was a man? Her sinewy grace and slight curves were even more erotic than the enhancements Carita had forced upon her. She looked powerful—a warrior. She paused just inside the threshold and glanced around at the gore-painted walls with wide eyes, sucking in a breath as she pushed her hood back, revealing her silvery hair.

I pushed myself to sit up—although it took all my self-control—so I could look her in the eyes. Hissing in pain as sand shifted in my wounds, I gingerly leaned back against the stone wall so she couldn’t see the extent of my injuries. She was still battered from her ordeal; one of her eyelids was swollen, a shadow of a bruise darkening her pale skin. I longed to reach for her, to comfort her, an instinct that I quashed under a mountain of pain and hate.

“Theron,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

I narrowed my eyes at her, wrath sweeping through me like a raging sandstorm. I wanted to shout and rage at her, to demand she explain why she had tricked me, why she seduced me in the first place, to punish her—but I held it in. All I could do was glare at her as an oppressive silence filled the air between us.

Kael stepped closer, reaching out for me with trembling hands; but I batted them away and rose, staggering back against the wall as I swayed.

“Was any of it real for you… or was it all an act?” I growled.

She paled and retreated from me, her arm raised before her body like a shield. The fear that crossed her features shook me—and all I desired was to pull her close and forget everything. My Sihaya never cowered. Rhazien had taken something from her, broken something, and all I wanted to do was help her mend it.

But the agony was too much, the betrayal too raw.

“I never said it wasn’t,” she whispered. “I did what I had to do. Just like you.”

“You had to do what? Betray me? Turn me over to your rebel friends?” I sneered at her, my voice sharp as pain coursed through me.

She flinched as if I had struck her, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she clenched her jaw. “No, Theron, I never wanted that. But I had to kill Rhazien—“

I shook my head, my hands spasming at my sides. “You should have told me, Kael. You could have been honest with me after I’d told you what he’d put me through.” My chest heaved, a gaping maw opening where something vital had once been. “Do you think I would have stopped you? I would have helped you kill him. But you lied to me, used me…”

“I never meant to use you,” she protested. Rage boiled inside of me and I lunged forward, my hand wrapping around her throat as I pushed her back against the wall. Someone had removed the collar I’d put on her to claim her as mine, and it only enraged me further.

“You used me!” I shouted, my voice breaking in a rough crackle. “Just like everyone else in my life.”

Kael gasped for air as I tightened my grip around her neck, her hand clutching at my arm as she struggled to breathe. The urge to hurt her—to inflict the same pain I felt—was so overpowering that I didn’t know if I could stop myself. But as I looked into her eyes, I hesitated. Something shifted inside of me, a flicker of emotion that I couldn’t place.

I released my hold on her and took a step back, my body trembling with pain and the effort to control myself. Kael stumbled forward, gasping for air, her hand rubbing her throat.

“I never meant for this to happen,” she gasped.

I laughed bitterly; the sound echoing off the stone walls. “You think that makes everything alright?”

“No, I don’t—“ She cut herself off as Peregrine returned, a large male Inferi Remnant with shorn dark hair graying on the sides beside her. Haemir.

Kael straightened her shoulders, schooling her expression until it was one of annoyance. No trace of the hurt that had been there a second before. No wonder I’d been deceived. She was a masterful liar.

“What is the meaning of this? The Marshal is my prisoner,“ she said, ignoring me when I snorted. “I told you I wanted to be present for his questioning.”

Peregrine tilted her head, staring at Kael for a long moment. “Your presence wasn’t required.”

Kael opened her mouth to argue and Haemir held up a hand, glancing at me. “Let’s have this conversation in private.”

“Fine by me.” Peregrine turned, leaving the cave without a second look. Expecting Kael and Haemir to follow, something that goaded my Sihaya based on the look she shot at the older woman’s back.

“Come on,” Haemir said, guiding her toward the tunnel as if trying to usher her away from me as quickly as possible.

She glanced over her shoulder, those cool green eyes meeting mine once more before she turned and followed him out of the cave. It felt like a part of me had been stolen—all the trust I’d put in her, in anyone—and I didn’t know how to come back from it. 

I tried to stay standing but eventually gave up, collapsing onto the ground with a heavy thud. I was alone, surrounded by memories of what had happened between us. What could have been… if only things were different. If only we’d been honest with one another from the very beginning. But that time had passed.

All that remained was vengeance.