Pain throbbed in her skull, like someone was driving a stake between her eyes. Carissa forced her eyes to open and gritted her teeth against the onslaught of agony as the light hit her eyes.
Once her vision cleared, she saw Akar looming above her. Behind him, the moon nestled in a corner of the ceiling, surrounded by a spray of stars. Bile surged to her mouth, but she choked it back down.
Akar tilted her head back. "I thought you'd want to be awake for this."
She ignored the fear coiling around her chest and instead tested her movement. Her ankles were bound, as were her wrists. He hadn't gagged her, but she knew that wasn't due to any kindness on his part. Likely it was so he could better relish her cries of pain.
Carissa smirked up at him. "If only you had blindfolded me as well as bound me. Then at least I wouldn't have to look upon you."
She saw the blow coming and didn't flinch. It snapped her head to the side, and after the initial shock wore away, her cheek began to sting from the scrape of his nails.
Akar smiled, then caressed the cheek he'd hit. "You still have so much to learn, I see."
Carissa held his gaze and wiped her face clean of emotion. If he was to rape her as he'd done in the past, she'd do everything in her power to ensure he received as little pleasure from it as possible.
Akar seated himself on the mattress, making it sink with his weight, before spreading his immense mass on top of her. "If only your husband could see us now."
Could he? The thought made her throat tighten. He'd dreamt before of things that had happened to her in the future—or of alternate futures. She remembered a letter of his, when his developing Foresight had led to a dream about her as Akar abused her.
The thought chilled her and warmed her at once. She didn't want Elon to see this, yet it brought a strange sort of comfort. Her heart nearly lurched from her chest. She would do nearly anything to swap Akar for Elon in this moment, to have Elon press his form to hers. He'd unbind her, caress her hurts away, and show her what it felt like to be loved, how bonding with a man was supposed to be.
Carissa forced her gaze upon Akar. But it wasn't Elon, and unless she did something to escape him, Akar might rape her before killing her and she would never have the opportunity to bond with Elon again.
Once her gaze strayed from Akar's eyes, she noticed his split lip and the bruising on the sides of his face. She smiled. "I see the fight with my husband didn't end in your favor."
The comment earned her another hit—a punch, this time. The pain momentarily blinded her, and when she opened her eyes, the world teetered like a tipsy drunkard. Carissa swallowed, tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Perhaps if she aggravated him enough, he'd beat her senseless and forget what else he'd intended to do to her.
But that was wishful thinking on her part. He'd likely beat her and then take advantage of her—and if he did, she'd be too weak to fight him. She had to preserve her energy if she were to escape somewhat unscathed.
Akar rose, seating himself beside her, and curled his massive hand around her neck. He wasn't squeezing but left it there as a silent warning. "Your husband is now bound in chains in the lowest dungeon, yet I am here. I'd say I won that fight."
With the help of at least two dozen Reapers. Carissa began to ask him what kind of a man didn't fight his own battles, but she stopped. If she continued acting brave and indifferent to him, he'd hurt her until he eventually evoked a response. The only way to catch him unawares was to make him think she'd given up all hope. And that meant showing him her fear.
Everything in her rebelled against it—after all, she was practically handing Akar what he wanted on a silver platter—but slowly, she broke down the walls barricading herself from reality and allowed herself to feel everything. Fear settled on her like a weighted blanket, even heavier than when Akar had pressed himself to her. Her muscles tensed as she remembered exactly how Akar had hurt her the last time. Tears flooded her eyes, and when Akar reached for the front of her shirt, she trembled.
"Ah. So you remember at last." His eyes were aglow with satisfaction as he tore the front of her shirt, the fabric ripping as the seams popped.
The air was cold against her chest, and she began shivering harder as tears slipped down her cheeks. The fear was throttling her, and she clung to the last shreds of her control. She needed enough emotion to fool him, but if she let her fear overwhelm her, it would turn her into a senseless child. She would begin struggling, whimpering, and crying uncontrollably as she tried to escape the pain of reality. If she allowed that to happen, then Akar had truly won.
Akar chuckled, removing his thick hand from her neck and running it across her stomach. "You're mine now."
Carissa swallowed a retort as Akar removed her pants in the same manner. Then he stood back and shed his own clothes. As he removed his boots, she caught a flash of silver, hopefully a weapon.
And then Akar approached the bed. His chest was covered in blackened scars, as if he'd been cut with Esmerian steel. Had the Reapers turned on him? Or had something else happened?
All her questions vanished as he lowered himself onto her, pinning her to the mattress.
He lowered his head and whispered, "You remember this, Carissa?"
Her trembles returned—more violently this time.
His laughter was low, vibrating against her chest. "I thought so."
He began groping her, and she did her best not to think about the places his hands wandered. She gave him all the gasps and cries of pain he wanted, keeping her limbs limp as jelly. His chest rumbled with pleasure, and finally—finally—he positioned himself as she'd been waiting for. He had raised himself up slightly to hover over her, likely to remove the last of her garments.
Carissa jerked her leg up, her thigh hitting between his legs. Though he winced and fell to the side, she knew she hadn't hit hard enough to incapacitate him. She'd have to remedy that.
Carissa rolled into a sitting position, her legs folded underneath her, and lifted her bound hands to the level of her forehead.
Akar roared, his hand reaching for her, but it was too late. She brought her elbows down on his groin. Once. Twice. Three times. After six, she lost count. When he was sufficiently in pain, doubled over as tightly as physically possible, his face scrunched in agony, she slipped off the bed.
Her head still pounded, and as dizzy as she was, it took a few moments to find the dagger he'd hidden in his boot. She grasped the hilt of the weapon and sawed at her bindings—first her wrists, then her ankles. The pieces of rope fell to the floor.
It was time to finish this. She couldn't have Akar notifying the others of her escape. She scrambled back onto the bed, dagger in hand. A bit of color had returned to Akar's face. She had to kill him quickly or else he'd soon recover.
Carissa didn't think as she plunged the dagger into his chest. She ripped it back out, and Akar gasped in pain, gurgling blood in his mouth. Maybe she'd punctured a lung.
Carissa ignored how her hands still shook, how to world still swayed, as she dressed in Akar's clothes. Her own were in tatters, thanks to Akar. She used the rope from her bindings to make a belt and keep her pants up—they were practically swallowing her.
Before she neared the door, she stopped and placed her forehead against the wood. Her emotions were still spiraling out of control—shame, and sorrow, and fear. If she didn't contain them, they'd distract her, and it was unlikely she'd be able to fight off whatever enemies awaited her outside.
She wrapped her emotions in a tight little ball, trying to forget the last few minutes had ever happened. After a few moments, her breathing steadied and her hands stopped shaking. She was ready.
Carissa swung open the door, felt it thud into something. Perhaps a person. Guards appeared on either side of the doorframe, two in total. She'd have to silence them before they sounded the alarm.
One guard charged her, and Carissa swept her foot out as she'd seen Elon do, tripping the man. His armor clanged as he hit the stone floor. Hopefully no one had heard that. She turned to face the other man. After all, this was usually the point in the fight where the other fighter recovered from his shock and began to attack her.
To her surprise, he simply stood there, his hands empty of weaponry. He glanced behind her. "Watch—"
The guard she'd tripped was lunging towards her with a dagger. He'd gained his feet rather quickly. Carissa danced back and slapped a hand to the wall to steady herself as the world tipped sideways. If she was still dizzy, she must have been hit in the head harder than she'd initially thought.
The guard charged at her, only to be stopped as the other guard punched him in the jaw. The first guard fell before glaring up at his former ally. "You traitor."
Carissa stepped towards him, dagger poised for the final kill, but the guard who'd helped her stood protectively in front of the other guard. This man's jaw was darkened with unshaved scruff, and his brown eyes were soft. With a pang, she realized they reminded her of Elon's. "Don't kill him."
Carissa huffed. "I don't have time to spend tying him up and throwing him in some closet."
"I can secure him while you rescue your friends."
The other guard's face whitened in anger. "What? After everything you would betray—"
"See?" Carissa continued. "If he keeps going like this, he'll alert the Reapers, and I'm not certain I'm strong enough to fight them right now."
The man with soft brown eyes nodded. Then his fist shot out so fast it blurred, hitting his fellow guard in the face. After the blow, the other guard promptly fell limp. The man glanced up at her. "See? He won't make a sound. You can remove his armor, use it as a disguise, and I'll find a nice, dark closet—"
"Why are you helping me? Is this some sort of trick?" The world began spinning instead of merely swaying, and Carissa leaned up against a wall as casually as possible, not wanting to reveal how weak she truly was.
Even as her vision blurred and cleared and blurred again, she saw the man's face flush. "I was ordered to stand outside the door and guard Akar's room while he," the color in his face deepened, "took advantage of you. And then I could hear you start to cry, and—" He sucked in a breath and took a few moments to calm himself. "It was wrong. I knew it was. I only agreed to work for Akar as a guard in exchange for protection from the Reapers, for my family. When I heard you crying within, I thought about going in, but I was a coward. I feared someone discovering my traitorous actions and hurting my family." His expression pinched in regret. "I'm sorry."
Compassion warmed her chest and softened her regard of the man. She nodded towards the limp guard on the floor. "He won't hesitate to tell the others about your involvement in my escape."
The guard shrugged. "He's a reasonable man. I think the fact that I saved his life would be enough to keep him quiet. And before all this, we were quite close friends."
Carissa sighed but nodded. "Then help me remove his armor before you stow him away."
The guard did most of the work, since Carissa was still battling against bouts of dizziness. Once they'd strapped her into the armor and tucked her hair beneath the helmet, the man stepped back from her and frowned. "Your features are a bit too delicate for a man's, but at least your figure is well-concealed by the loose clothing."
Carissa shrugged. "It will have to do." She began to descend the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall as each step sent a jolt of pain through her skull.
"You're certain you're alright?" the guard asked from behind.
"Don't worry; I'll make it." Or she'd die trying. Carissa continued plodding down the steps, each fall of her foot intensifying the pain in her head.
One thing kept her moving: the thought of saving Elon. And Lyron, Kybelle, and Algernon of course. As soon as she released them, they were going to destroy the fortress and get out of here while they still could.
***
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