From the Ashes

Chapter 45 ~ Long Hidden Truths

Tarion blinked his eyes open to a moldering hay strewn floor. His hand groped his neck as he drew a ragged breath. His skin had been pieced back together, but dried blood was crusted around the new scars. Even more unhealed wounds covered his naked body. His throat had been left gaping while he received most of them.

Tarion shifted onto his side with a hoarse groan. His neck might healed, but his back was in ribbons, courtesy of a brutal whipping. From the unyielding sting within the wounds and the scent of his skin, they'd been doused with salt water.

Only Astaroth's brand was untouched. The tongues of the whip had glanced off of it, unable to sever whatever magic lingered within it. He drew a shaking breath, then braced a hand on the floor and pushed himself upright. His chest was battered with bruises and teeth marks. Rhidian's personal touch.

His bite was nothing like Morana's. Her's had been meant for pleasure. Rhidian's was a mark of degradation and ownership. Hence why he'd torn out bits of skin with each one. Tarion rested his face in his palms with another shuddering exhale. At least the male hadn't done anything other than torture him. Yet.

That was a small blessing. To have to endure another night of Rhidian's sadistic pleasure seeking... Watch him bleed some innocent female to death and once he was satisfied, force himself to endure whatever brutalities the male preferred that night...

Astaroth had never cared. Had never stopped him. His only stipulation was that Tarion was able to carry out whatever orders awaited him the next day. And that had only made Rhidian become more creative. Those times when he was chained beneath his own palace, while a form of torture on their own, were also moments of blissful reprieve.

Tarion used to wonder what Astaroth had done to the male to make him so deeply Corrupted. Used to try to justify the male Rhidian had become with the male he once was. They'd never been close. They'd always seen each other more as rivals than allies.

But they'd given each other the respect owed to Cahirim warriors when they were training together. When Rhidian had joined Gaelen as a commander over the Cahirim, Tarion had been the first to congratulate him. But whoever that male had been, he had died the moment Astaroth Corrupted his mind.

The person Rhidian had become was a festered and rotten version of who he once was. If he ever escaped this imprisonment, he'd finally put the male out of his misery. Tarion's lips peeled back in a silent snarl. But gods forgive him for enacting some revenge of his own before he took the male's life.

Only one other sliver of relief came from knowing Rhidian was still here. He wasn't out hunting Morana, and that meant she had more time to get to safety. Tarion tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling.

He'd been placed in a cell without windows. There wasn't even one upon the door of solid iron and stone. It was chiseled with runes and imbued with Astaroth's power making it impervious to Fae magic. The same material his tomb had been made from, and the shackles around his wrists and ankles.

He closed his eyes, envisioning her beautiful features. Morana would never forgive him for this betrayal, even if he survived. He already knew that. He'd known from the beginning, when he kept all of this hidden from her. Like a fool, he had hoped to find a way to free himself so he'd never have to tell her in the first place.

Like a fool, he'd believed that if he just fought hard enough, he could overcome Astaroth's power and stand at her side to fight against him. Be the male she had believed him to be. He'd warned her. He was not that male. He would only ever bring failure and destruction to those he loved. He was a monster, and that was all he would be by the end of this.