My Cursed Mate's Revenge

Chapter 10: A Jailed Woman Freed

Two Weeks Earlier

Freya:

I was a shell. A husk of a body. All that I was had bleed out through my back, was shattered with each break of my bones.

They relentlessly and systematically attacked my body. They were precise, thorough.

I had been burned, sliced, whipped, and stabbed, hardly an inch of my body left free from their meticulous attention.

And after they were done, I would be stitched, splinted, and wrapped back together, those parts of my body left to repair slowly while their attentions moved on to another space, a freshly healed patch of skin. Sleep evaded me. All I knew now was brief moments of peace between the consciousness and pain.

Once, I felt my mind drift and found myself in a strange room.

The room was pitch black, the walls made from a viscous substance that watered my eyes and poisoned the air, burning my lungs with each breath in.

I tried to move but my feet wouldn’t budge.

I turned my head but found nothing. I was completely and utterly alone.

Instead of relief at the solitude, relief at the freedom from the pain, I felt…frustrated?

Something in me screamed that I needed to find my way out.

YOU NEED TO GO, YOU HAVE TO GO!

Before I could make sense of what I was seeing, my mind was shoved from the dark room and back into my body, my senses overwhelmed with the sudden awareness and pain.

A whispered conversation was taking place near me inside the dungeon, one that I was not meant to hear.

My body was too broken and exhausted to react to this sudden shift in my mind, leading my captors to believe that I was still out cold.

The voices that spoke made me think of the dark, viscous walls. In a moment of clarity, I knew at my core that somehow, the two things were connected.

“She is very resilient, more than any of the creatures we have worked on before…”

The voice was claws scraping on rock, snakes hissing, fingernails ripped at their root, putrid air, and rancid breath.

“Yesss, very resilient. And the healing. Hers is just slow enough for us to…savor the moment.”

My skin crawled, my stomach rolled and nausea creeped into my throat. I prayed to the Goddess, my first since entering this room.

I did not pray for vengeance but relief, begging for her to just let me die, let me leave this room and my body behind. Let my soul enter the great beyond, a star in the sky to watch over my people.

Maybe up there I could make a difference.

“Maybe soon, she will let us take her apart completely.”

“Hmmm…maybe soon. Or maybe, we will break her first. And then she will let us play with the scraps.”

The anticipation in their voices sent a shiver up my spine that I fought to hide. I did not dare let them know I was awake. I could not face another moment of their torture, I could feel my mind slipping, feel my body healing slower and slower each time.

But it was there, still strapped to a stone table, that I discovered a new torture as these creatures whispered their dark fantasies, and my exhausted mind could do nothing to fight off the horrific images.

And all the while, they remained bent over my immobile form as they pieced me back together.

Stitch.

By.

Stitch.

—-

There was no way for me to guess how long I had been here. Each second was an eternity, each torture flowed seamlessly into the next.

It gave me no room to breathe, to prepare myself for the onslaught of agony.

And still, they worked. Break by break, stitch by stitch.

The creatures moved as a unit, never speaking a word.

A day, or possibly as little as an hour ago, I had grasped at one of their cloaks.

At some point, I had been seized with this muddled certainty that if I could see their faces, I could find a way to stop them, to fight this torment.

The moment the creature felt the tug on the cloak, they all stopped moving as one.

A different creature advanced, grasping my hand and prying the cloak from my grip.

The panic I felt at its touch grew as it lifted my hand, turning the palm.

Faster than my eyes could track, it snapped my thumb back, the bone making a popping noise that was quickly covered by my scream.

I had wanted to be strong, to not make a single sound. But my will could not stand alone against the onslaught of their efforts, and my body was healing too slowly to keep pace with each new torture.

And still, they worked. Break by break, stitch by stitch.

__

“Stop.”

The command was given softly, interrupting the creatures as they forced a disgusting sludge down my throat and called it a meal.

Moira entered the dungeon, and slowly walked to where I was strung up, my back covered in fresh marks.

“The pack has grown suspicious. They are calling for a public trial. We will need the people to see her soon, or there could be an uprising.”

“We are ready for that.”

“No, we are clearly not. There are other pieces at play here, we must not treat this as if it is the final step. Now is the time for caution and discretion.”

“They will want her to speak.”

“Yes, you are right about that…”

A hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head up and into the eyes of my stepmother.

“Understand me now, child. You will not use this as an opportunity to warn the pack. You will not use this as a chance to try and shift the blame of your crimes onto others,” her Luna command rang in my ears but seemed to exhaust her.

She gasped for breath before continuing, her voice absent of the commanding tone, “And if you so much as try, I will be sure that you are not the only member of your pack down here…although perhaps that is what you would prefer? Another to come down here in your place? You always were so selfish.”

“Please…no. Do not do this to them. Please Moira, please…I am begging you…”

“Wonderful, I am glad we agree that they should not be the ones to suffer. Cooperation suits you, my dear,” she said as she turned away from me and proceeded to leave the room, “and do clean her up as quickly as you can, I believe there are some guards waiting for us.”

I was lowered from the ceiling and freed from my bonds. The clothes I had been brought into the dungeon in were now nothing more than tattered rags. Clean but threadbare clothes were shoved into my hands and I dressed as quickly as I could, taking stock of my body as I changed.

My back was bleeding freely, stitches covering my body. Several of my fingers and my wrist were broken, but the fractures in my legs had healed enough to stand and move freely.

As soon as I had finished, two of the creatures grabbed hold of my arms as a third blind folded me.

These creatures were clearly well educated in the ways of torture, but they had not been educated about me.

I counted the steps away from the center of the dungeon where I had stood, counted each stair as we walked up several flights, and listened to the flow of the air as it moved through the tunnels.

We entered a small room and my blind fold was removed. My stepmother was waiting there, eyeing my new clothes and appearance critically before saying, “Remember my command.”

I nodded. I knew this might be my only chance for escape, I would not let anything jeopardize this chance.

She turned and nodded to one of the creatures. It opened the door in the room, turned, and followed the others as they filed down the stairs we had used to enter the room.

As they left, two guards stepped into the room, their eyes immediately moving towards the figures descending the stairs behind us, confusion clearly written on their faces.

“My personal guard. I cannot risk my life, should any members of the pack sympathize with my step daughter and her actions. They are outside of our standard guard unit, I will take no questions on the matter.”

The guards share a quick glance before looking back at Moira and nodding.

“Escort her to the court hall, I will meet you there shortly.”

They bow slightly at her order, a gesture that infuriates me.

This is what she has done while keeping me bound and tortured in the dungeons? She’s forced my pack, my family, to bow to her? As if she was worthy of their respect, their deference.

I knew it would cost me later, but I could not stop myself as I stepped forward and pretended to stumble. I threw my arms out as if to catch myself.

Instead, I shoved Moira’s frail body with every ounce of remaining strength I had. She hit the wall hard, her nose making a satisfying crunch as it made contact with the stone surface.

“Apologies, Stepmother. I am such a clutz today…must not have slept well last night,” my voice remained monotone, devoid of any emotions to mask the surge of joy I saw as she clutched her bloody nose, tears pouring from her eyes.

I stepped forward, shoulders back and head held high. If I was to see the pack today for what might be the last time, I would not allow their final memory of me to be of a scared and broken girl.

I walked down the halls with the guards flanking me, hoping they would take a path that gave me a chance.

“What day is it?” I asked, trying to appear as if I was not desperate for an answer.

The guards shared another glance.

“Is the day of the week truly so threatening? It’s not like I’m asking for weapons, boys. I’m asking because I’ve spent the Goddess knows how long in a windowless dungeon,” I said, hoping the patronizing tone would distract enough, just enough to create a chance.

We took a corner and I slowed just enough to fall a step behind my keepers.

Each had standard shifter leathers on, as well as a set of swords and daggers each.

Their wolves and swords were too large to be effective in these small tunnels.

Dagger it was.

I quickened my pace so that I was a step ahead-far enough that they felt like they needed to move faster to keep up with me, but not so fast that there was a concern I was trying to flee.

At the next turn, we came to a forked path and I went to the left.

They followed without comment and I breathed a sigh of relief, slowing just enough to allow them to catch back up.

“So?”

“It has been about eight days since our last guard rotation stood watch over your rooms. We were dismissed by the Luna at the end of our shift.”

“I see…”

She had left me there for seven days. It had felt like an eternity.

We continued down a few more hallways and I began to slow my pace again, preparing myself.

As we reached the last fork in the tunnels, I lashed out.

Grabbing the dagger from one guard, I stabbed the other in the lower thigh and pulled up and out, dropping him immediately.

Spinning through my strike, I twisted the dagger in my hand to bring the hilt down on the other guard’s head, knocking him out. As I moved, my mind reached out and connected with the guard still conscious, my fear, pain, anger, and regret that I had hurt them pouring down our link.

He clutched his head in agony, as I caught the unconscious guard just enough to lower him to the floor without any additional injuries.

My body screamed with every movement, but I could not stop.

If I was caught, Moira would have me dragged back to the dungeons.

And I don’t know that I would ever make it out again alive.