Marked

Chapter 10

RYN POV

I hated the way he looked at me. Not with fear. Not even defiance. Just calm. Measured. Like he was already cataloging my weaknesses and choosing which ones to exploit.

It should’ve made me furious. Instead… it made me uneasy. There was nothing monstrous about him, not in the way I expected.

No twisted grin, no madness in his eyes. No blood on his mouth or cruelty in his words. He didn’t plead or rage or spit venom at me like other soldiers had when cornered.

He just watched. Like a forest cat waiting in the dark, bound but not tamed. And gods, I hated that I noticed it—

The way his eyes never left mine, even chained to a wall.

The way I could still hear the faintest echo of the woods around us when I looked at him, because this was the male who had been behind us. Tracking us. Hunting us.

And now he sat there, unbothered. Unrattled. Unwilling to give me so much as a name.

But the worst part? The part I didn’t want to admit? I believed him when he said he’d been called worse. And somehow, that stung more than it should’ve.

I shifted my weight slightly, arms still crossed, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I’m not here to play games.”

He gave a ghost of a smile, and I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw as he tilted his head back.

“You say that,” he murmured, “but here we are.”

The chains rattled as he leaned forward just an inch, still far out of reach—but enough to test the boundaries.

“Tell me something,” he said, voice quieter now. “What do you want out of me, exactly?”

I opened my mouth to answer. But the words didn’t come. Not right away. Because I wasn’t sure. Not yet. I kept my voice steady, but it took effort.

“I want answers.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched.

“I want to know who you really are,” I continued, each word sharp with control. “And why you’ve been following us. What do you want from us?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned his head back against the wall, gaze still locked on mine, expression unreadable.

It was infuriating—his silence, his calm. Like nothing about this situation fazed him. Like being chained underground in enemy territory was just another long day. I hated that he made me feel like I was the one losing control. The sound of boots on stone broke the quiet.

Teryn’s voice echoed down the stairwell, clipped and firm.

“You’re needed upstairs.”

Her tone was neutral, but her eyes found mine the second I turned. She didn’t say my name. Didn’t give anything away. Smart. Always smart. I gave the male one last look, then stepped back toward the door, careful not to turn my back fully.

His eyes never left me—not even as I pulled the heavy door shut and turned the lock with a solid click. Only then did I exhale. And follow Teryn up the stairs.

The upper floor was dim and quiet, the torches burning low in their sconces. Teryn led me to the far side of the main room, away from the windows, out of earshot.

She didn’t waste time.

“We need to decide what we’re doing with him,” she said.

I crossed my arms, jaw tight. “I thought that was already the plan. Get answers.”

Teryn gave a nod, but there was a shift in her eyes now—calculated, cold.

“Exactly. And that means doing whatever it takes. He doesn’t talk unless we make him.”

I frowned. “You mean questioning him?”

“I mean starving him if we have to. Keeping him cold. Pain, if it comes to it.”

I said nothing for a moment. Not because I was shocked—but because I didn’t like how little it surprised me.

“You think that’ll work?” I asked finally.

“It’s worked before.”

My stomach twisted, but I didn’t let it show. She wasn’t wrong. Tactics like that had broken worse soldiers.

But something about the idea sat wrong. Not because I felt sorry for him—gods knew he didn’t deserve pity—but because there was something in his silence that didn’t feel like arrogance. It felt like armor. And part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to be the one to strip it away.

“I don’t like it,” I said quietly.

Teryn raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like what exactly? The methods? Or the thought of hurting him?”

I exhaled slowly. “Both, if I’m being honest. He’s dangerous—I’m not arguing that. But we just captured him. Give me a few hours, a day even, to try the normal route.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but her stance tightened, arms crossing over her chest like a barrier between us.

“He won’t talk.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she snapped, voice low but hard. “You think you’re the first to try playing nice with the Shadow Hunter? He’s not just some soldier. He’s trained to outlast pain. Silence is his weapon.”

I stepped closer, holding her gaze. “I’m not trying to play nice, Teryn. I’m trying to get results without becoming the thing we’re fighting against.”

That landed. Just a little. Her jaw flexed, but she didn’t respond right away.

“Let me question him,” I said. “Ask direct questions. Keep him alone, let the silence do some of the work. Withhold food for a short time, see if hunger makes him talk. If not, we go further. But not right away.”

A long pause followed. Then, finally, Teryn gave a grudging nod. “You have until tomorrow night. If he hasn’t cracked by then, we do it my way.”

I nodded, biting back the knot forming in my chest.

“Fair.”

She turned away, pacing once before glancing back over her shoulder. “But you’d better be ready to follow through if it doesn’t work. Because if he gets loose, or delays long enough to pass intel to the king, this entire outpost burns.”

“I know what’s at stake.”

“I hope so.”

Teryn walked off, her boots fading down the hall, leaving me in the firelit silence of the stone corridor.

I didn’t move.

Not right away.

Because I wasn’t sure which part of me felt heavier—

The one that hated the thought of breaking him…

Or the one that knew I might have to.