Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)

The soft scream of fear seeped from her mouth as I slammed her against the wall repeatedly. The rag doll her body had become rattled against the hard stone with each abrasive impact.

Laughing, I watched her bounce, reveling in the soft sound of her cries, before dropping her again, her body collapsing in a twisted heap.

“Get up,” I growled.

This time, she didn’t wait, her pathetic sobs echoing disgustingly as she lifted herself.

Snarling, I turned away from her, my eyes darting down the street to the tall spires of the cathedral, long shadows clawing over us as the sun fully set.

“Come, Wynifred,” I called behind me as the sound of her dragging steps moved closer. “We have a wedding to get back to.”

I wish it was that simple: a job well done, a bonding, and the feast that would follow. However, once the sun went down, this place would become a labyrinth, and I wasn’t foolish enough to “turn on a light” so to speak. A bright, yellow light in a black world would be nothing more than a death sentence. We needed to get back before that happened. I didn’t want to deprive my father of his prize, after all.

Another feral growl and I turned back to the pathetic creature who leaned against the wall beside me. I could tell she was going to be more of a hindrance than I had thought. My patience was already gone.

With one swift movement, I pulled her hand out from where she had cradled it against her chest. The wrist was slick with the red blood that oozed out of the newly opened wound in her palm, the color even brighter in the light of the quickly fading day.

She gasped, the scream strangled as she attempted to pull away. However, I held on, malice spreading through my wide grin as I watched her fear grow into something beautiful.

My fingers pressed roughly against the blade protruding from her palm as her cries continued, my fingers twisting it farther into her hand, ripping the already ragged flesh apart.

Now she screamed as I clasped my hand, sticky with her blood, over her mouth, leaving just the sound of my deep laugh in the alley.

The blade had passed through the same place barely months before, but then, she had gone into a dream controlled by Cail. Then, it had been a walk in the park. Now, she was on her own, trapped in the mind of my father, trapped in his control.

“We should get moving,” I tried to keep the light comfort in my voice, the heavy, candy-coated persuasion thick. It didn’t matter; she knew what I was threatening.

With a strangled sob, she pushed herself up, body convulsing under the effort. Her good hand gripped against the wall, against the ground, and then reached for me as she tried to find a balance between the uncontrollable movements of her joints.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled as I stepped away, letting her stumble into an upright position, as though she’d had one too many to drink. “Let’s go.”

Wyn’s eyes glossed over, her body straightening as if someone had flipped a switch. Her movements, while still jagged, became a bit more fluid. She was giving in bit by bit.

As I followed her through another alley, the cathedral fell away from view before we emerged on a small side street that, for whatever reason, looked more untouched than the rest of them. There wasn’t quite as much blood here, and the trash and debris had been moved aside into what looked like tiny, little piles, like someone was taking care of it, cleaning it. The idea was ridiculous, yet the cathedral was right there, towering over us.

“Zdechnout,” I whispered as a poisoned Vil? flew toward me.

The tiny thing dropped to the ground with a thud.

Bright, beady eyes looked out on us from where they had hidden themselves throughout the wide street. My heart braced at the sight of the specks of color and light. I felt the fear momentarily before I smiled, stepping farther into the street and staring around at the monsters with glee.

Vil?s used to be the smartest creatures among us, wise beings that would gratefully converse about philosophy for hours. Now they were vermin, tortured until their minds had broken. Now they couldn’t even string two words together.

“Zdechnout,” I said more loudly this time, laughing as the winged monsters retreated, hiding themselves in fear, leaving us standing alone in the middle of the street. Just one more hurdle until we reached our destination.

“Thhhh … Rrrrr…”

It took me a minute to realize Wyn was actually trying to say something and wasn’t drowning in a pool of her own saliva.

Her tangled body faced the high tower, staring at something I couldn’t quite see with a mixture of dread and excitement.

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