Chris let out a muffled groan, nearly biting through his lip to avoid screaming. The salt burned into his open flesh blike /bbacid/b, his bbody /btrembling with the effort to contain his pain.

She left him hanging on the edge of consciousness, the bsalt /bstill searing his wounds. That night, after three bdays /bof torture, Chris’s body finally gave out, and he copsed into darkness.

When Chris regained consciousness, he was surprised to find himself in a different room. The ceiling above him was intact, and sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains. His wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, and he was wearing a fresh shirt, though his hands and feet remained bound with coarse rope.

Liana sat nearby, sipping water from a ss. Her hair was neatly braided, and she wore a floral dress that bmade /bbher /blook like an ordinary schoolgirl rather than a torturer.

She approached and broughly /bpoured water into his mouth. Most of it spilled down his chest, soaking the shirt and making it cling ufortably to his treated wounds.

“Why the change of scenery?” Chris asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Before Liana bcould /banswer, heavy footsteps thundered through the building, Chris heard doors being flung open in the hallway, followed by angry shouts. Liana stiffened, quickly moving to lock the door to Chris’s room.

The footsteps stopped outside, and a fist pounded on the door.

“Liana! Open up!” a man’s bvoice /bbellowed.

Liana put her finger to her lips, warning Chris to stay silent. bShe /bslipped out the door, closing it behind her. From inside, Chris could hear their conversation clearly.

“Where is he?” Kane demanded, his voice contorted with fury. “Where’s the man who killed my son?”

“I released him,” bLiana /breplied, her voice suddenly cool band /bcollected.

Kane’s tone transformed instantly. “Released?

? bWho /bbgave /byou permission? He killed your brother, and you let him go?”

“My father did,” Liana stated firmly. “If you have a problem with that, take it up with him.”

The tension in their voices was palpable. After a tense moment, Chris heard Kane and his men depart, their footsteps echoing corridor.

Minutester, Liana returned, her expression grim. “Your uncle seems upset, Chris remarked dryly

Liana turned to him with a scowl. “Shut up. We’re leaving.”

down bthe /b

Two dayster, Chris found himself in a border town, a chaotic maze of markets and smugglers. The air was bthick /bwith the scent of spices,

12:30 Satb, /bSep 27

fuel, and unwashed bodies,na b

had transported him there under cover of darkness, and he had cooperated–Kane would have killed him immediately, while Liana’s intentions, though brutal, at least kept him breathing.

They settled in a small room above a noisy tavern. As soon as they arrived, Liana, In a sudden hurst of anger, whipped him several more times before calling for a doctor to treat his wounds. The doctor, a weathered local man, asked no questions as he applied ointments and bandages.

“Why didn’t you turn me over to Kane? Chris asked as the doctor left.

Why should

Liana s bchildlike /bface hardened. “You’re bmy /bcaptive. Why should I give you to him?”

your Scorpio family would have to answer to my father if I diedb?/bb” /bChris suggested, testing her.

“A life for a life!” Liana snapped. “Why would the Scorpio family fear your father?”

“I didn’t k

kill anyone,” Chris bstated /bfirmly, “I only burned ba /bfew of your bfamily’s /bauction houses. Ask Loki if you don’t believe me.”

Liana’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I believe you? Even if you didn’t kill him byourself/b, your friends probably did. You burned bour /bauction houses–that’s reason enough for me to punish you.”

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