The Choice

the abduction

*Disclaimer: there is a lot of violence and torture in this chapter. If you're not comfortable with this then please skip this chapter, you're not missing any important information!

When I woke, my head throbbed like a war drum. Every muscle screamed in protest. 

What happened?

The air was damp and heavy. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the faint light filtering through a crack in the ceiling. The stone beneath me was cold. When I tried to move, ropes bit into my wrists and ankles. I was tied to a table—arms stretched, body aching.

Perfect. Could this get any worse?

The door creaked open. Light flooded the room, sharp and sudden. I flinched. Three men stepped inside.

"Ah," one said, voice dripping with amusement, "our little queen is awake."

I knew that voice. Familiar, but blurred by time and pain.

He stepped forward until the light revealed his face—a face I'd hoped never to see again. My blood ran cold.

"Sopespian."

He smiled thinly. "I'm touched you remember me."

"I thought you were dead."

"Dead?" He laughed, a sound like gravel scraping steel. "No, my dear. Perhaps you hoped so. But it takes more than a little flood and a lion's roar to kill me."

A chill traced my spine. "What do you want, Sopespian?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, circling the table like a vulture. "I want your husband. But before I kill him, I intend to make him suffer—by taking away what he loved most. Within days, he'll be served your heart on a silver platter."

I spat at him. His expression hardened. He seized my jaw, forcing my face toward his. "Such fire," he murmured. "I always did like that about you."

He turned to the others. "Get the information I want. I don't care how—just make sure she stays alive."

Then he was gone.

The two men approached, their shadows long against the walls. The taller one struck first—a fist to the stomach that knocked the air from my lungs. I gasped, gritted my teeth, refused to cry out. The smaller man drew a knife and drove it into my thigh.

Pain seared through me, white and blinding.

"Do you plan to leave it there," I hissed through clenched teeth, "or was that meant to be subtle interrogation?"

The taller man backhanded me across the face. My vision swam as blood trickled from my lip.

"Shut up," he growled.

I don't know why, but I couldn't stop myself. "You might want to start asking questions before your boss returns. Just a suggestion."

The blow came harder this time. Then they laughed—a sound that made my stomach twist.

"Let's have a little fun first," one said.

A towel pressed over my face. Cold water followed, pouring endlessly, suffocating me. My lungs burned as I fought for air that wouldn't come. When they finally pulled it away, I gasped once—then the water came again.

Minutes or hours passed; I couldn't tell. Every time I thought I'd drown, they'd stop—let me breath—and start again.

At last, the taller man lifted the towel, his breath hot against my ear. "Ready to talk now, Your Majesty?"

"Go to hell," I rasped.

The next strike sent darkness flooding back in.

CASPIAN'S POV

The study was a storm of maps and open scrolls. Emma and I had been searching for hours now.

"What about an old estate?" she asked suddenly. "Somewhere abandoned—a place no one would look."

I looked up sharply. "Emma, that's it. When Sopespian was made Lord, he was gifted a mansion near Beruna—deep in the forest, long forgotten."

"Then that's where he'll be," she said. "But we can't rush in blind. We'll need soldiers—your best."

I nodded. "I'll speak to General Clouzot."

Moments later, I was in the general's office. He rose at once.

"Your Majesty."

"General, I need your help. Queen Maria has been taken—by Lord Sopespian."

His eyes hardened in a heartbeat. "Say no more. I'll gather my best men."

"This must stay secret," I said. "A small battlegroup—fast, precise. We move in twenty minutes."

The general nodded and left.

By nightfall, the courtyard was alive with quiet preparation. Armour glinted under torchlight; swords were sharpened, horses saddled. Every heartbeat brought me closer to Beruna—and to her.

I prayed I wasn't already too late.

MARIA'S POV

When I woke again, the room was empty. My body felt aflame, each breath tearing through bruised ribs. I tried to move, but the ropes held fast.

I wasn't done fighting—not yet.

The door burst open. Sopespian strode in, his grin cruel.

"My men tell me you've been less than cooperative," he said. "I must admit, I'm impressed. You're stronger than I expected."

"Go to hell, Sopespian." I growled. "You'll get nothing from me."

His amusement faded. He drew a knife and pressed it against my throat. "Careful, my queen. Defiance can be fatal."

"I'd rather die than betray him."

"So be it."

The blade plunged into my stomach. Fire erupted through my body. I bit back a scream—failed. He withdrew the knife only to drive it in again.

"Where is Caspian?"

"Why do you need me? Find him yourself," I gasped.

He grabbed my arm, pinning it to the table. The knife carved into my flesh, tracing shapes I couldn't see. I cried out despite myself. Blood ran warm down my skin.

"Tell me where he is!"

"No"

He switched to the other arm. My vision blurred; the edges of the world began to fade.

"Enough," he said at last, panting from his own fury. "If pain won't loosen your tongue, perhaps death will."

He hit me again—once, twice, until the room tilted and everything dissolved into darkness.