A Court of Blood and Courage

Part 12

My eyes crack open as I lay on a hard surface. I reach for the male that would be beside me, only to feel cold metal and I turned to find metal bars. I let out a gasp. This had to be a nightmare.

I was back in the cage in my camp. Panic filled my chest as I sat up, tucking my wings in tightly. When I look up, a familiar face leers down at me.

"Cyrus." I gasp.

"Hello Carina," he purred. "Time for a little payback, don't you think?"

"How did I get here?"

"Oh, a little sleeping potion to you and the High Lord. Snuck right in and snuck right out. It was so easy, it was stupid. Isn't that right, Drevon?"

My whole world stopped as Drevon walked out of the shadows. Two scars marred his handsome face, creating an crisscross from forehead to his jaw. My mouth hung open as I gaped at him now. He gestured to his face and gives me a psychotic grin.

"Like it? Courtesy of the High Lord." My stomach churned, how did he get out? "Yes, a few illyrians helped me out of that idiot's hold. Now we own this camp. No one is getting in or out."

"How?" My voice doesn't waver and it strikes me then that I held the male's' gazes. Not once had I backed down, pride soared through me and a painful stab of longing for my mate.

"Blood magic." Cyrus chuckles. "It came in handy when a handful of illyrians fought back." My stomach churns at the thought of what they had to do. How far had these two fallen? Madness gleamed in both of their eyes. Greed and the ability to take a life, it made them lust for it.

"A spell?" Both males nod with satisfied grins. A spell can always be undone, I remember some things Helion had told me of spells. Yet, there was nothing I could do from inside of this cage. "Now shall we show our new guest the more secretive ways of being an Illryian?" Drevon's voice was laced with hatred as he yanked the door open. I launch myself at Cyrus with a roar. We go down together, tumbling and clawing. But I was a far better fighter now, after learning the ways of the Day Court and adding that to my Illyrian abilities, I was undefeatable. Well, except for being hit on the back of the head. I went down hard as Drevon brought something down on my head. Rough hands grabbed me tightly, and as I looked at Cyrus, I saw blood streaming down his face from where I had hit him. I chuckled as they dragged me away to a building. My laughter died as I recognized the building...torture.

The stripped me bare. Leering at my nakedness and laughing at my small breasts, which they poked. I struck out like a wildcat and I struck to kill. Arms caught me and pinned me down to a metal slab. Tying me down, I yank and tug at my restraints as a cart is wheeled in. Metal gleams in the dim lighting. Drevon walks beside me and slides a blade down my chest, dragging the tip over my breast. He dug in so a line of blood trailed down my body as he stopped at my hip bone. I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream. Illyrians know you don't start with the wings, you only make them immobile. My eyes went wide as he gripped a pair of tongs and went to my feet. Slowly, so slowly he pulled my toenails off. I dug my fingers into the metal, denting it. My lip had started to bleed from where I was biting it.

"Not a peep?" I keep my lips shut. "Think I will have to try harder, huh?" All of a sudden, all I can see is a white hot poker. He burns my flesh in an X like the one on his face, exactly like the one on his face. This time, I scream. I couldn't keep it in anymore. Next he takes a whip to my legs and over the X now maring my stomach. My screams reach near fever pitch as the whip hits the tender flesh of the X. Drevon pulls away with a satisfied smile. He gestures for the Illyrians to take me back to my cage. I can't move as they drag me back to my cage. Right in the middle of camp I lay naked and bleeding. It doesn't take long for me to black out.

The days come in and out in a pain filled haze. Every day at daybreak I am dragged back to the torture shed. Three days in and I can barely remember my own name, but Helion's name I cling too. On the fourth day, they take one of my fingers. On the the fifth, they take a toe. On the sixth day at noon, whispers come from the guards, telling me what I needed to know. Helion was on the war path and Cyrus and Drevon were leading him in the wrong direction. Perfect.

I await the night time changing of the guards. Readied myself to get out of this disgusting place. I couldn't allow myself to feel pain or weakness while I was here. That would come later. My thoughts race to thinking about how to get out of my situation. The best bet would be to contact my mate who specializes in breaking spells but I was miles from him. So what I needed was a distraction, the guards. I had read some blood magic book in the Day Court and I had plenty of blood on me. As the guards change, I force one of my many wounds open. Using the blood, I draw a rune on the lock. It flares to life for a moment then I hear a click. I shove it open and quickly run because they would be back soon and I would have to fix this. Digging up all the memories I could of breaking spells and blood magic. If I could find some foxglove, I could do this. And lucky for me, I knew exactly where some was. My feet were silent as I made my way to the mess hall. Growing along the edges of the building I pick as much as I needed and quickly run to the edge of the camp. My feet falter as I glimpse into a darkened building, what was in there made my stomach threaten to come up. Movement, movement was key. So I keep on running until I pause at the armory, and with a grin, I enter. Grabbing a mace and a wicked looking dagger, I strap on some Illyrian fighting leathers. If I went down, I went down as myself. Hopefully I could count on my mate though. My feet dug into the soft earth as I booked it for the border.

I collapsed onto my knees at the edge where I find trails of blood outlining the camp. Not giving myself the chance to think about where the blood came from, I dig a hole besides the line then place the foxglove into the hole. Wielding my blade, I dig it deep into my palm. My eyes skipping over the missing digit. My blood trickles into the hole, once it is filled with enough blood I pull my hand back. Just as I am about to finish the ritual off I hear a rumbling and bright light. Helion. He needed to get in and he needed to get in now. I trace a rune from the mixture onto my hand then murmur the few words I could remember, praying it was enough. I could do this, Helion would be here in moments. I could do this for him. I would show all the Illyrian females that they didn't have to back down from males. They could fight their way out. I prayed that someone would tell the females of what I did today. Of the sacrifice I would make for them. For I had seen who else was in this camp and I knew the males were taking it out on the females because of me. They would survive. I would make sure of it. So I place my hand to the hardened air around the camp. It faltered then completely disappeared in a shower of stars. My eyes lit up as I watch them fall into my face. I grin as I feel a weight falling onto me, making it harder to keep my eyes open. Golden eyes fill my vision as I start to sway, those arms grip me hard.

"Carina, my love, stay with me. You are not a fallen star, you are a shooting star. Stay with me." My eyelids flutter as I struggle to keep my eyes on him. The problem with blood magic was it asked for a sacrifice and there are worse things than death. My mate knew that as he screamed my name and as my body finally yielded to the magic.