Sign of the Devil's Footprint [THE DEVILS CULT BOOK 1]

Chapter Twenty-Two

Melione leaned her head back, taking a deep breath. She worked hard to control her breathing, feeling panic rising once again through her body. She didn't know how long they had been tied up and tortured. It was hard to count the days without being able to see outside.

"Melione," Gram's voice called out to her.

Melione picked her head up and looked at him, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes. She hated this feeling of helplessness. She wanted to be strong for him but didn't know if she could. Her eyes searched his body, hating the cuts and bruises that covered his skin. Someone would come into the room every hour and cut both of them. Torturing them with anything that they had in their hands.

The cuts on Melione's skin were deep enough that they would be leaving scars. The cuts looked nothing like what Grym was going through. She could feel his rage boiling every single time one of the cult members came in and touched her, cut her, bruised her.

Grym was in a constant state of rage after seeing his father. After his father removed his mask, Grym let out a series of curses. His father acted like he wasn't hearing Grym's words; he kept looking between them. Before he left the room, he ordered the four other men not to lay a finger on me inappropriately. His eyes kept snapping over to Grym as he left the room.

Melione shivered under Grym's gaze. His eyes traveled down her body, a growl eliciting from his throat. Melione knew that if they were able to escape this place, he was going to kill every single person who had touched her. A while ago, one of the men got carried away with cutting her and ran his knife over her shirt, cutting it in half. Her upper body was now revealed for anyone to see.

"Grym," she breathed. Melione took another deep breath and worked hard to conjure up a ball of light. If she could heat the ball of light hot enough, she knew she could free Grym. The cult ensured she was fed just enough to stay alive, unable to put extra energy into her magic.

"Melione," Grym sighed. "Don't waste your energy."

Melione's eyes snapped over to him. His attention was up to his hands. Melione's eyes widened. "Where did you get that?" He was cutting the ropes around his wrists.

"They've got a traitor," Grym explained slowly. "While you were passed out, they brought this to me."

Melione nodded slowly. "They couldn't bring me another shirt?" Melione asked. "Or something to cover up with?"

Grym growled. "Apparently not."

Melione's legs bounced as she waited, hoping the Grym would succeed. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when Grym's feet hit the ground. Grym rushed over to her, dropping to his knees. He quickly cut the restraints from her wrists before moving down to her ankles. Grym gripped the frayed edges of her torn shirt and tried to pull it together.

"I'm going to kill whoever did this," he growled.

Melione placed her hands on his chest, pushing back slightly but unable to move him an inch. "I'll turn the shirt around," she answered quickly. "We need to get out of here."

Grym gripped her hand, pulling her quickly to the door. While he was opening the door, she worked at turning the shirt around to cover her front. She let Grym take the lead, conjuring up a small light dagger by her side. Grym never let go of her hand as he pulled her into the hallway. The hallway was completely dark. Melione wondered if there were any windows in this place.

Melione tugged on Grym's hand. "I should take the lead, Grym. I can see in the dark better than you."

Grym nodded. "Alright," he sighed. "I'm going to keep close to you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Melione breathed as she stepped past him and further into the hallway. It wasn't long until they ran into two cult members.

Grym pushed her back against the wall as the cult members continued to walk down toward them. Melione gripped her dagger tightly, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She held her breath and slunk further into the shadows. The two cult members stopped before them, giving them the ideal time to hit.

Melione reached out quickly, aiming her knife at the tiny sliver of exposed skin underneath the mask. She sliced the skin as blood pooled out of the cut. Grym was quick and broke the neck of the second cult member. They placed the now-dead cult members against the wall before moving further into the building.

Deep voices were arguing off in the distance. Melione looked back at Grym and, seeing him nod, continued to move toward the voices. They reached a door that was ajar, light shooting through the cracks. The arguing continued to get louder as they got closer to the door. Melione leaned against the wall, straining her ears to understand what they were discussing.

"He's my son," Ryfon growled. Melione heard banging.

"Sir," another voice answered cautiously. "He cannot be allowed to leave. He's influential in the realms. He and his little plaything will take us down."

Ryfon sighed. "You don't know who she is, do you?" Melione assumed one of the people in the room shook their head as Ryfon continued. "She has done more in her work than my son has. Her god is the god of war; she's merciless. In her realm, it's kill or be killed, and that woman has survived many years."

"Then we get rid of her first," another voice said.

Ryfon sighed loudly, obviously irritated. "If what my son had said is true, there is no getting rid of either of them. If we kill her, he will go berserk and kill us all. If we kill him, no doubt she will do the same."

"Then what do you expect us to do with them?"

Ryfon was quiet for some time. "We must convince them that what we're doing is right."