Bonnie remained quiet, letting her youngest grandson do what he wanted.
Letting me go, Daniel plucked the dice from the floor. Shaking it, he tossed it down again.
Red.
Pain.
I swallowed hard, doing my best not to show fear.
Vaughn didn’t do such a good job. He fought and squirmed, earning a punch to his gut—even after I’d kissed Daniel to prevent it.
“Don’t! I paid the damn requirement!”
Cut clucked his tongue. “Marquise. She’s right. Don’t hurt him unless she refuses.”
Vaughn doubled over, his legs buckling in Marquise’s hold.
Daniel pointed at the dice. “Pain, Nila.” Tapping his chin, he pretended to think. “What can I make you do?”
Cut murmured, “Hang on, I’m calling rights on this one.”
I tensed.
He tilted his head in my direction. “Nila will pay that one for me with no complaints but she’ll do it when we get to where we’re going. Isn’t that right, Nila?”
My eyes flickered to V.
Cut’s voice licked around me. “You’ll know what it is when I ask, and you’ll permit it. Because if you don’t, I’ll just kill your brother and be fucking done with it.”
V growled. I stayed quiet. I’d played this game longer than he had, and I knew how to deal with Cut now.
Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “Why drag it on? Why not just kill me here?”
Cut clenched his jaw. “If you have to ask that, you haven’t been paying attention.” He stalked forward. “Agree to what I just asked and you’ll learn before the end.”
There was no other answer I could give. I glowered. “Fine.”
He smirked. “Good girl.”
Daniel pouted but shook off his disappointment by collecting the dice. “Oh, well, my turn again.” Shaking the dice, he snickered, “Ready for another?” He rubbed his lips in lewd reminder. “Maybe I can have you blow me next.”
Acid drenched my insides.
Daniel rolled the dice. The horrible thing bounced off the rug, coming to a stop on red.
Shit.
I sucked in a heavy breath.
You can do it. Do it for V.
Daniel grinned. “Red, huh? Pain…” His eyes drifted to the table where the Pear of Anguish sat.
God, no!
Marching over, he picked up an awful looking contraption peeking out from under the black cloth. “This will do.”
I stiffened as he came back, dangling the torture equipment just like Cut had with the Scold’s Bridle.
“This ought to be painful enough.”
My eyes drank in the leather collar and long metal bar on the front. Each end was carved into two sharp prongs.
“Know what this is?”
That damn question again.
Unfortunately, I knew the answer this time. “It’s a Heretic’s Fork.”
Was this a manor house of the fucking Tower of London? Where did they keep these barbaric devices?
“Smart girl.” Daniel grinned. “And you know how it works?”
I made the mistake of looking over at Vaughn. Saliva dripped down his chin from the gag, his eyes blazing with sorrow.
I looked away. “It’s strapped to the accused throat and the fork forces the person to keep their head high to avoid the prongs from entering their chest and throat.”
Bonnie smiled. “You’ve finally shown some aptitude, Ms. Weaver.” Cocking her head, she ordered, “Strap it on her, Daniel.”
“Be my pleasure.” The thread of insanity that infected Cut glowed in Daniel’s eyes as he moved behind me. His cold hands brushed aside my hair as he brought the horrible thing beneath my chin. “Put your head up.”
Tears prickled my eyes as I raised my chin, staring at the ceiling. The square wooden panels kept me company as the fork buckled around my throat and diamond collar.
My neck arched, keeping the delicate skin safe from being stabbed. My teeth hurt from clenching, and my head pounded with a rapidly spreading headache.
You’re failing again. Don’t give in.
I blinked back tears, straightening my spine as if that would bolster my courage.
You’re breaking. They’re winning.