A Fire in the Flesh (Flesh and Fire, #3)

The chair faced the tub.

“Fucking gods,” I snarled, the embers humming. “Could he be more disgusting if he tried?”

One would hope not, but the answer was probably a resounding yes.

I wondered how mad he’d get if I shoved what used to be a glass cock down his throat.

I turned to the standing shelf filled with towels and numerous glass bottles. There were salts, lotions, and cleansers. My gaze flicked to the vanity. A comb lay on the marble sink, along with a brush for the teeth.

The sad thing was that the inside of the cage was nicer than what I’d had at home in Wayfair Castle.

But it was still a cage, no matter the luxuries provided inside it.

I took care of my personal needs and then started to leave the bathing area. My gaze snagged on that damn chair. The arms of it were thickly padded, but there was no mistaking the imprint of fingers.

A chill swept through me as I stared. How many times had Kolis sat in that chair, his fingers pressing into the arms like they had on my hips, to leave an imprint like that? How many did he watch, not even allowing them the most basic privacy?

I felt the flames rising in my chest, spreading through my veins like wildfire. My hand trembled as I clutched the broken glass, my knuckles turning white. Holding on to that rage, I stalked past the chair. Tossing the weapon onto the bed, I returned to the chests and opened one, grabbing a white, lacy garment with slits on either side of the skirt.

Quickly, I peeled off my still-damp gown and changed into the other. It was looser, and the sleeves sat off the shoulder, but it left little to the imagination.

It was clear that Kolis liked to dress his favorites for his viewing pleasure, treating them as one would dolls.

Highly sexualized toys.

Grossed out on so many levels, I retrieved my newly fashioned dagger and sat on the floor.

And waited.

Part of me knew how foolhardy it was. I had no real plan beyond finding Ash and escaping, but anything was better than sitting in the cage and waiting for Kolis to return.

Waiting for him to move beyond looking and touching while only the gods knew what was happening to Ash.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Footsteps sounded outside the chamber. Quickly, I lay on my side with my back to the doors. I didn’t like it, but it was the only way to keep the glass dagger hidden beneath my other arm while also allowing me to react quickly with it.

My heart beat fast as I heard the doors open and then the soft click of them closing again. I lay completely still, my grip tight on the glass. I didn’t feel the stir of embers that alerted me when a Primal was near. So, it was either a guard or possibly a Revenant. If it was the latter, they wouldn’t stay dead for long.

The length of my entire back tingled with awareness as the silence stretched. I thought whoever was in the room had moved closer because the faint, sweet-but-stale scent increased, but I couldn’t be sure. Seconds ticked by but I held myself still, half-afraid I’d have to sneeze or—

“Seraphena.”

Fuck.

Recognizing the voice belonging to the Revenant, Callum, I closed my eyes. I would have to do some serious damage to keep him down for any length of time if a dagger thrown by Attes and blasts of eather hadn’t incapacitated him for long.

And why had Attes done that? Simply because Callum annoyed him? Or because the Revenant had continued to push for Kolis to take the embers while Attes obviously didn’t want that?

Come to think of it, why was Attes so willing to believe that I spoke the truth about Sotoria?

The answer couldn’t be as simple as the Primal God of War and Accord not wanting Kolis to rise to such power because that made no sense. Not when Attes had brought me to Kolis.

But none of that mattered at the moment. I needed to focus.

“Wake up.” He sounded closer, and impatience crept into his tone when I didn’t respond. “Seraphena.”

Picturing all the ways I planned to use the broken glass on him, I remained quiet and still. I needed him to come into the cage.

A moment passed.

Then another.

“Godsdamn it,” he muttered. “How can anyone be such a deep sleeper?”

Why would he think I was asleep on the floor when there was a bed right beside me?

The clink of a lock turning was like a siren’s song to my ears. I forced my aching jaw to loosen and my breathing to slow despite my wildly beating heart.

Callum was in the cage now, but the bastard was quiet. I didn’t even hear his approach until I felt the tip of a foot nudge my leg.

“Shit,” he grumbled, sounding as if he’d knelt behind me. “If you choked on your tongue or something…” His icy hand came down on my arm.

My heart slowed as honed instinct took over. He called my name again, rolling me onto my back.

I reacted without hesitation.

Eyes opening, I shot up. Gripping the front of his white tunic, I swung my arm around and nailed the fucker right in the throat.

A flicker of surprise rippled across his painted features, widening his pale eyes. His lips moved, but the only sound that came out was a gurgle.

Blood trickled from his mouth as I tore the glass free. He smacked a hand over his throat and stumbled back.

I didn’t let him get far.

Aiming low, I kicked him, taking his legs out from under him. He hit the floor with a nice thud, blood seeping between his fingers and running down his arm and chest—dull, red blood that smelled of stale lilacs.

Knowing he’d probably recover quickly, I moved onto my knees and straddled him, lifting the broken glass above my head.

He reached for my arm, his movements slow and weak as I drove the glass down into his throat. Blood spurted, splattering the front of my gown, the length of my hair, and my cheeks. His body jerked, his blood-soaked fingers sliding off my skin. I slammed the glass down once more, grunting when it hit the floor beneath him. What remained of his neck were a few raw, bright pink tendons.

My lip curled in disgust as I rocked back. Callum was dead. For now. I knew it wouldn’t last, so I figured the more injuries he had to heal, the better it would be for me.

Through the opening in his shirt, I saw no scar left behind from when Attes had thrown the dagger at him. But there hadn’t been any signs on the Revenant called Dyses, either, and Ash had torn his heart free.

With both hands, I drove the glass through Callum’s chest. Flesh tore, and cartilage gave way. The glass sank deep, slicing through muscle. I hit his heart and gave the dagger a nice twist with a savage smile. Then I got him in the groin.

Just because.

Wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand, I searched his pockets, finding a single golden key. I rose and stepped over the Revenant. Not knowing how long I had before Callum resurrected, I wasted no time. Blood dripped from the broken glass as I hurried from the cage.