Zarren Helion
Gods be damned, this Prillon was f*****g tough. A reluctant thread of respect clawed its way through me as I watched Mersan work like a master, melting just enough skin to cause maximum pain while preventing the prisoner from blacking out. We’d been at this for hours. Were we having any effect? As soon as Oberon’s flesh was whole, I waited for my prisoner to lift his gaze to mine.
Fucking bastard looked amused.
“Again.” I wanted him talking, not dead. I was running out of patience. The subject was sleep deprived, starving, and had enough chemicals floating around in his head to f**k up an Atlan. He had no close family I could threaten. I had no f*****g leverage. All I had was pain. More pain. More. Pain.
Perhaps burning the skin from his body wasn’t enough. Or perhaps it
