Page 192 of Onyx Cage: Volume II
Another crack of the whip, and another while I imagined carving Samu’s eyes from his head. Another crack and I could practically hear Ava’s scream while I broke every bone, first in her hands, then her feet.
The fifth crack made my vision go black for a moment, but I held firm, refusing to allow my lemmikki to see me shudder in pain.
Right after the sixth crack of the whip, the shouting began.
I spun around to find Rowan standing over Orik, blood soaking her hands as she carved a deep line through his torso before pulling her dagger free.
Good girl.
My muscles spasmed as I reached for my sabers. I turned to watch the blood drain from Ava’s face while all hell broke loose around her.
A cruel laugh rumbled through me as I watched Rowan race across the clearing, her hair whipping behind her like crimson flames as she caught up to my stepmother.
This was no sparring ring, and there was no holding back. She reached out to grab her by the hair, using her hold on it to slam her into the ground.
A flash of silver caught my eye, and I instinctively raised my saber in time to block Samu’s hit. My muscles were sluggish, my weapons heavier than they had been before, but I forced myself to parry and fight, using my adrenaline to keep moving.
Samu’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile when I stumbled after blocking him from an overhead strike. I had just enough time to curse under my breath before Kirill came barreling into my line of vision. He crashed into Samu like a battering ram of vengeance.
Thesvolochgasped as the air was knocked from his lungs, his sword falling from his grasp and just out of reach.
I glanced back at my lemmikki to find her sitting on Ava’s torso, using her muscular thighs to pin down her great-aunt’s arms.
Henrick was standing close by, his weapon drawn as he watched my wife mete out whatever justice she deemed appropriate.
When I turned my attention back to Kirill, he was holding a blade to Samu’s throat and kicking his weapon even farther away from him.
Keeping Rowan in my line of sight, I stepped closer to Samu.
His dark eyes were wild, but he didn’t try to move. Judging by the way he was breathing, the soft wheezes whistling past his split lips and the hand clutching his chest, he had at least broken a rib in his fall. Maybe even punctured a lung.
Good.
I wanted this to be as painful for him as possible. I placed my boot on his chest, leaning down to let him feel my full weight on that broken rib.
He groaned in pain, his free hand wrapping around my ankle. Kirill pressed his blade more firmly against Samu’s throat in warning.
“A long time ago, I made myself a promise,” I began, speaking just loud enough for him to hear each word. “Or really, I made you a promise.”
He coughed, the sound thick and wet with the blood that was filling his lungs.
“For years I have wanted to kill you, but it wasn’t until recently that I decided how,” I added, glancing from his wide eyes to the tip of my saber. “It wasn’t until you hurt my lemmikki, peeled her flesh from her bones with your whip, that I decided you would suffer more than I had made anyone suffer before.”
Samu tried to speak, but I leaned on him harder, effectively cutting off words I had no desire to hear. “And I want you to know, that no matter what else I do in life, no matter what comes next, for as long as I live, little else will bring me the satisfaction that I feel right now.”
Without another word, I removed my foot, relishing the pained gasp that escaped him as I pulled my dagger from my boot and slammed it first into the tendon between his neck and shoulder, then before bringing it down again, right against his kidney.
I brought my dagger down on him twelve times in the most painful spots I could think of. For the thirteenth strike, I slammed the dagger through the bottom of his jaw to seal his mouth shut.
I moved quickly, despite the open wounds on my back, and Samu hadn’t even had an opportunity to cry out before his mouth was locked shut.
Thirteen. The number of lashes he had given Rowan, the number that nearly killed her. But it wasn’t enough.
My hand was slick with blood as I lifted my saber next, adding another seventeen to bring his total stab wounds to thirty, the number of lashes he had intended to inflict on my wife.
I focused on the places that were painful, but not lethal, wanting to make sure he felt every single second of my vengeance.
Each time I brought my sword down on his frozen body, each time he spasmed and choked, each time he felt the full weight of my wrath, I felt a little better.