Bound by Darkness (Bound By Series)

4. Deep Wounds

Chapter 4

Deep Wounds

THALIA

“Thalia.”

My eyelids were stones of granite as they fluttered open. A groan left my lips as I shifted my arms against rock, my back raw and tight with each movement of muscle.

The floor beneath me was a sticky mess of fluids. My sweat and blood mixed together, caking onto my skin in thick, crusted layers.

Gagging, I shifted away from the puddle, a low hiss escaping my lips at the excruciating expanse of energy it took from me.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Moria heaved, her fingers curling around the bars. “I was scared you weren’t going to wake up.” A rasping cry left her lips. “Blood kept leaking from you.”

Her fingers were white as they gripped iron.

“That bad?” I muttered as every inhale shifted the ruined flesh. “Has the—” I groaned. “Has the bleeding stopped yet?”

Moria nodded. “Yes, but you need to cover it. If the wounds get infected?—”

“I know what happens if they get infected,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I think… I think it’s too late for that,” I said as sweat dripped down my forehead like a river.

Flattening my palms against the ground, rocks dug into the soft flesh as I pushed myself up, the stinging blinding and sharp. Dizziness narrowed my field of view, my body straightening as I rested in a crouched sitting position.

My fingers reached for the discarded tunic, a sharp cry escaping my lips as raw skin stretched and bent at unforgiving angles.

“Here,” Moria whispered, her fingers curling. “Bring your shirt, and I’ll mend your back as much as possible to stave off further infection.”

“You make it sound easy.”

Moria’s eyes softened, but her jaw remained set.

With a low grunt, my fingers dug into the grooves of the floor as I slowly shifted myself to her. Each shuffle sent waves of pain down my back as the iron bars refused to appear closer.

“Almost there.”

“Shut up, Moria. I don’t need—” I groaned, my fingers curling. “I don’t need a narrator.”

Moria bit her lip, but she remained silent until my back rested against the cool iron, a sigh escaping my body at the relief it gave my heated wounds.

Water sloshed behind me as fabric ripped, my eyes peering over my shoulders. The hem of her shirt floated in the large basin. “We needed something to clean the wounds,” she answered.

Wringing the fabric, a sharp cry left my lips as she dabbed the cloth against the red welts. “Gods, Thalia,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she dipped the fabric into the basin again. The water instantly turned red. “They aren’t too deep, but there are so many.”

“Gayle had his fun.” I inhaled sharply as the fabric rubbed against a sensitive welt.

Moria choked back a sob as she carefully cleaned the wounds. “He promised me he wouldn’t,” she whispered. “He promised me he’d leave you alone.”

“He’s a liar,” I said, a splash of cold water blissfully needed as it ran down my back.

“It’s my fault he did this. If I had done more. If I had?—”

“It’s not your fault,” I stated. “Gayle followed his orders.” And his sick addiction.

Moria bit her lip, her fingers clenching the fabric. “But he did this because of me. Because I turned down a request.”

I shook my head. “He did this because I smashed a glass bottle over a Noble Fae’s head.”

“You… you did what?”

“He made me an offer to come to his province. And?—”

“And what?” Moria said, the sounds of water flooding my ears.

“I refused and smashed the bottle over his head when he tried to frighten me.” My hands twisted together. “I didn’t think when I grabbed it. When I realized what I’d done, the only logical solution blaring in my head told me to run. So I did. I ran to the window and pried it open.”

“You… you ran?”

I nodded, the movement jarring. “Yes. I ran into the forest.”

Reason had left my senses. I’d known Moria since she was fourteen—her voice the first I’d woken up to the day of my arrival eleven years ago. I was only thirteen and despite my best efforts to avoid her, we’d bonded.

To us, we were the only teenagers in the world. Teenagers who’d harbored more suffering than any other prisoner slapped down here. I cared for her more than I’d ever admit.

Her fingers were light as she helped me tug on my brown tunic, the fabric rubbing against raw flesh. “What was it like?”

“What was?”

“The forest,” she whispered. “What was it like when you ran through the forest?”

Resting my head, a sigh left my lips. “I was home again.”

Water splashed against iron as Moria emptied the basin into the hallway. “Home,” she repeated. “I forgot what a home is.”

“Me too,” I answered. “But out there among the trees, I was a kid again. Free to roam and run wherever.”

“Wouldn’t that be a luxury.”

“I almost had it, too. A few more stones away and I would have been lost to the branches and thorns,” I said as I wiped my forehead.

Moria remained silent, her head tucked to her chest.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Moria.”

“It’s just… we promised to leave together . Being left alone here is enough to send me into a spiral. It’s selfish, I know, but you’re all I have. If I escape, there’s no one waiting for me besides you.”

A stone crumbled to the floor, an echo filling the catacombs.

“I get it,” I answered slowly. “I’d feel the same if you left me, but in the moment, the possession in his eyes scared me.”

She dipped her head in a low nod. “I know. I get it,” she muttered. “But don’t… don’t do that again. Don’t abandon me.”

A slight nod of my head gave her all the reassurance she needed. “Sadly, I’ve also grown fond of your company,” I quipped, a smile crossing my face as I angled my head to look at her.

The corner of her lip lifted, the makings of a smile. “Yours as well, even if you talk in your sleep,” she teased.

A laugh escaped from my chest, burning rupturing across my back like a spider web. “I do not talk in my sleep.”

Moria flopped onto her pile of hay. “Oh, you do, and sometimes,” she whispered, her head lifting from the needles, “sometimes you whimper and cradle your hands.” Her lip jutted as she tucked her hands to her chest like a prayer.

I stifled the laughter rising within me, my head shaking gently. “You joke too much.”

“I’m not joking,” she stated. “You’re a sleeping baby. It’s cute .”

“You’re lucky I’m in pain. Otherwise, I’d shove my hands through those bars.”

Moria chuckled, the sound hearty as she pointed to the marks etched into her wall, a line dividing each half. “You’re asking me to put another point on my side?”

Thirteen marks were etched into the wall, and on the other half, my half, one lone mark was etched there. “Cheater.”

Moria rolled her eyes, her legs stretching. “That line got old eight years ago.”

“No, you’re upset because I finally figured out you use the iron bars as leverage when we wrestle.”

Moria gasped. “Me? How about you?” she rebutted. “I see you pressing your legs against the iron to stabilize yourself.”

“What about rhyming? You’re always changing the rules and repeating answers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You said orange rhymed with sporange?—”

“Because it does,” she huffed. “I told you. I read it in a plant book once.”

“Right, a plant book.”

“Admit you’re terrible at games.” Moria grinned. “And maybe I’ll let you win once.”

“I refuse to acknowledge a cheater.”

“Your loss,” she said, her hair billowing over her shoulders.

It grew quiet, the banter between us silencing as the air remained stale.

After a long pause, the hay rustled as Moria curled into a tight ball. “I do cheat. You focus so much on my hand you don’t even notice I’m shaking your elbow.”

“I knew it… and the rhyming?” I said through gritted teeth. Fever was settling in brutal and swift.

“It does rhyme.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Moria’s soft laughter echoed, filling the dismal cell with more joy than it deserved.

“Aren’t you a touching pair.” Gayle whistled, blood splattered across his face and torso as he peered into my cell.

“What are you doing here?” Moria whispered, the laughter in her tone vanishing.

“Admiring my work,” he uttered, annoyance plastered across his face. “I pay you for your body. Not your voice.”

Moria’s face reddened, but silent she remained as she eyed him from the hay.

“You don’t pay her for anything,” I snapped.

Gayle chuckled. “Apparently, a whip can’t remove human arrogance. I guess it is true what they say about half-breeds. You can whip them repeatedly, but they remain unintelligent and incapable of learning.”

Heat boiled my blood at the mockery, my hands fisting at my sides. The chain dug into my flesh as it rested across my lap .

The cool iron did little to suppress my rising anger and the fire across my forehead.

“At least you are useful for breeding,” he mused.

“Gayle, that’s enough,” Moria answered softly, her voice trembling.

My eyes swiveled to hers, pleading to remain silent. I always handled him. Always took the brunt of his abuse if it meant sparing her at least one extra minute with this foul man.

Gayle’s eyes narrowed, but he ignored the statement as he reached into his pocket. A rusted key ring appeared and the cell door groaned awake. “Let’s cut the chit-chat,” he stated. “Change of plans. Your master wants an appearance with you.”

“Right now?” I blurted.

Gayle’s eyes narrowed. “Either you stand, or I drag you by the ends of your hair.”

“No.”

“Thalia,” Moria said, her eyes screaming at me to listen.

“No, Moria. I refuse to leave. I’m not property that can be tossed around. I’m a person!”

Moria’s eyes widened, fear shining within her irises.

Gayle laughed. “You think you’re a person? You are property . Property belonging to His Majesty. It is his right to sell you to the highest bidder.”

“Thalia, don’t cause trouble,” Moria whispered.

“Listen to Moria,” Gayle purred. “She knows her status. Don’t you?” His fist banged against the iron bars, startling her where she sat. “Don’t you?” he repeated, his cheeks tinged red.

“Y-Yes,” she whispered, her eyes lowering.

My face softened as I watched the years of torture eat Moria alive. She retreated back into her shell. Gayle had done that to her. Had manipulated and shattered her to the core.

He smirked as he backed away from the bars. “See how easy it is? Now, stand up.”

“No.”

“Stand up,” he growled.

“No,” I repeated, my palms sweating as I stared at him. My knees shook violently as I commanded my face to remain neutral.

Gayle’s hand swung to grab my chains, but I hauled them to my chest, tucking them in tightly.

He swore as his hand missed.

Instead, he settled on wrapping it around my hair. He yanked hard, a cry leaving my lips as my head collided with stone. My vision blurred as he kicked me, blood oozing from the fresh wounds.

“Stop… stop it!” Moria whispered, her hand reaching between the bars.

Gayle lifted my bloodied face, his hands intertwined to the roots. “Slave,” he spat. “You are a slave, nothing more.”

Gripping the ends of my hair, he yanked me toward the iron doors. “Your master is waiting,” he grumbled as he hauled me out of my cell.

All of my senses were laced with agony as my legs scraped against the flooring. Hoping… hoping to catch a groove between the stones that might slow him and prevent me from my fate.

Gayle slammed the cell door shut as he half-dragged me through the hallway.

My eyes met Moria’s, her face dimming with each stone between us. Her eyes glistened as she mouthed something to me, but I couldn’t make it out in the room.

Another tug at my hair sent me reaching for my scalp as we rounded a corner, Moria gone from view .

My back blazed, fever tinging my face and skin pink.

“I was going to be courteous and let you tell her goodbye,” he said as we rounded another corner.

“What?” I choked, the air thinning as I gritted through the pain.

Gayle chuckled. “Did I forget to tell you he wants to see you because the transfer is happening now?”

My legs stiffened.

“Oh no.” He gasped. “I did forget to mention, didn’t I?” His laughter echoed long and hollow as he dragged me through the prison catacombs. “No need to say goodbye to that lowly Fae. She’s worse than dirt mingling with your kind.”

He pulled me through the winding corridors making up the underground tunnel away from the only person I cared about. My plan to escape with her shattered as his keys sang their misery to me.