Sunday Update!

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Excerpt (unedited):

Rusty shackles adorned each wrist, confining me to the small dark space. I watched the shadows dance across the damp walls and I knew he was coming. I could smell his desire and hatred before he even entered the small dungeon. I’d only seen him a few times face-to-face, but he never attempted to beat the hell out of me. I guess he was saving his energy because I wasn’t telling him anything either way.

“So, are you enjoying your stay?” He asked with a crooked smile. I wanted to spit in his face, but reigned in my hatred momentarily.

I returned his smile with one of my own, “Oh yes! Would you say this is five-star? I couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to stay here year-round. You’ll have to introduce me to your interior designer. I just love the random splashes of blood all over the walls. Really adds a flare, don’t you think?”

His eyes narrowed, but he continued smiling. “Hmm, you think you’re funny? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind adding some of your flare since you adore it so much. What do you say to that?”

I pulled myself up to stand against the stone wall and shrugged my shoulders, “Sounds like it could be fun. Why don’t you unchain me so I can grab a few paint brushes? If you wanted me to help you decorate, you could have just asked. No need for all the unpleasantries.”

The sting across my cheek from the back of his hand made my jaw hurt, but I didn’t let him phase me. No matter what he did, I would heal quicker than he would think possible. His magical bindings didn’t affect my powers as it did the others he’d previously kidnapped. I was just waiting for the right time to show him just what I was capable of.

“Now, I realize that you haven’t been properly introduced to the way we do things in our world, so let me be the one to make it very clear. Emerson has no power here. Even if, by some will of the gods, he showed up and tried to help he would be powerless. The Trylle have guarded ourselves from magical attacks for centuries and that hasn’t changed. If you answer my questions, you will not be harmed again. I will unfasten those chains and you can go back to the cell with the peasant-boy. Any questions?”

I spat blood onto the floor, “And if I don’t answer your questions, you’re planning to kill me. Is that right?”

His eyes blazed, “Kill you? No, I won’t kill you. I will make you wish you were dead. So, shall we begin?” He let loose a thin whip from around his arm. It barely dangled to the floor as it swung slowly with each step he took. The beast inside me stirred, but I wouldn’t give Nolyn the satisfaction of abusing my wolf, too. I would wait until he least expected it, than I would tear his fucking head off.

“Have you ever heard of the Soul Wells?” Nolyn paced a few steps to the left, then back to the right, as if circling his prey, waiting for my answer. “Have we already forgotten the deal? Do you need to be reminded?”

“I’ve heard of the Soul Wells. They’re in the old Elven kingdom,” I glared back at him.

He nodded, “Do you know what they’re used for?”

My head twitched as I reigned the beast in again, he stopped pacing and held the whip out in front of him, close to my pulsing arm. I gritted my teeth, “It holds the souls of the elves who’ve passed and their magic. It’s how elves used to have power. As long as they were cleansed in the wells, they’d be able to use the magic of their elders.”

Nolyn grabbed an old metal chair and sat down in front of me. He lit a foul smelling cigar, blowing the smoke into my face. My eyes stung, but I didn’t cough or move. I just stared back at him, waiting for his next question. “Do you know what happened to the Soul Wells?”

“Yes,” I winced. I didn’t want to tell him the truth, but I wasn’t sure how much he knew. If he suspected that Austin’s mother was responsible, he might try to hurt him and I wasn’t going to be responsible for that. “They were sealed a long time ago.”

Nolyn twisted the whip around his hand, making his knuckles white. “Yes, it was a long time ago, but do you know how?”

“It was a spell, I would assume. Nothing else would be so powerful. Of course, they could have just destroyed the power that the wells contained and then it could have sealed as a defense, but I would suspect a spell.”

“And what would make you automatically come to that conclusion?” He tightened the whip around his hand again, turning his fingers a disgusting shade of purple.

“I didn’t automatically come to that conclusion, I just gave you two possible answers. If it isn’t a spell, then something would have caused the wells to shut down. If it is a spell, that explains why there aren’t any elves left in the world with powers, if there are elves at all. I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for here,” I huffed and braced myself for another hit. I knew it was coming; I could see the anticipation on his face.

He exhaled another puff of smoke, “Shall I rephrase the question?” He stood up and took a few steps towards me, “Who told you it was a spell?”

I didn’t hesitate, “No one told me. I have magical blood running through my veins and enough magical friends to be able to make an educated guess. I’ve seen magic do crazier things and it seems like a logical explanation. I’m sorry if that isn’t the answer you’re looking for, but it’s the truth.”

He sighed, “Well, you are right about one thing. That isn’t the answer that I’m looking for. But you and I both know that it isn’t the truth. Don’t make me hurt that pretty face again, Adalia. I’ll give you one last chance to tell me how you know it’s a spell.”

I laughed, “A few months ago, I would have told you that magic didn’t exist and that places like this didn’t exist. I also would have said that people like you didn’t exist. Clearly, you think I have some type of connection to these Soul Wells, even though I’m not an Elf. From what I’ve read, only elves can access the Soul Wells. That in itself is a spell! Magic breeds magic and that is the only thing that tells me a spell is guarding what you seek.”

His face twitched, briefly revealing the evil behind the well kempt face. Still, I didn't falter. I leaned into the whip as it finally slashed into my bare shoulder. I closed my eyes and breathed through the pain. Over and over he flicked his wrist and the whip tore into my searing hot flesh. My body itched to change and heal itself, but I refused. If he knew the bindings didn't work against me, he'd only be more intrigued. As the last gash spread across my back, I fell to one knee. I was tired and dizzy, my energy pouring with blood and sweat from the slits that newly decorated my body.

I looked up at him through glassy eyes, "You were right. My blood has made a pretty good addition." I spat at his feet, "Any more questions, my prince?"

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