Wow.. what a crazy couple of months!

I know that there can be a massive jump between my posting, but I want to make one thing clear- I do plan to continue this story. Sometimes, life does get in the way, or you have writers block, or genuinely just don't feel like writing. But, I don't plan to abandon this story, and no matter how many weeks it takes to pump out a chapter I promise I will always come back to it.

This chapter is a tad shorter, mostly I want to write a big one on Dimitri's POV next. So, this is essentially a filler leading to the meatier stuff. i hope you enjoy, and sorry about the delay!

Chapter 11

Time had no meaning.

It could have been hours, days, or weeks and I wouldn't have known. All that existed was the haze of pain. My thoughts were muddled and incoherent, and I couldn't have strung two words together if I had tried. But, throughout everything, one thought remained clear in my head.

I would not cry out.

"Scream!" The woman was shouting at me. I couldn't care to recall her name; I knew only that I hated her, and that if I could rip her heart out I would. And that I would never cave into what she wanted.

She sliced the knife cleanly across my cheek, and I felt the warmth of my blood spill onto my cheek. Some dull part at the back of my mind registered that she would leave me with scars, but the thought was silenced almost immediately. I would worry about that if I survived.

"It will all stop when you swear to leave Thraln and never return," she crooned at me. Tasha, I remembered now. That was her name. Not for the first time, I thought about how tempting that was. The pain would be gone, and she would leave me alone.

But what about him?

As much as I wanted to give in to her promises, I knew she would never leave him alone even if I was gone. Could I justify leaving him in her clutches? I couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember who he was or how I knew him. But as she turned my back to face her and began to flay me, I knew that it was his brown eyes that would get me through this alive.

"Scream!" Tasha was crying, her face manic. I spat at her feet, blood mixing with sweat that fell just short. Making her angrier probably wasn't helping me, but it made me feel more in control. As long as I could play on her temper, I could keep myself alive long enough to get out of here. Even if, I thought to myself dully, the only way to keep me alive was to keep her torturing me.

"Everything was perfect before you," Tasha sobbed. The longer I held out against her, the greater her instability became. "Everything was perfect. Dimitri wanted me. ME!" She shrieked the last word, reaching behind her to pick up a small dagger. I winced as she ran the blade along my stomach.

"And now," she continued, "he won't as much as look at me. It's your fault!"

"That's because," I slurred, blood clogging the back of my throat thickly, "you're a heartless bitch."

I knew my words would set her off, and I almost lost my will as she cried out wordlessly and plunged the tip of the dagger into my stomach. The cold silver cut through my skin as if it were little more than butter- and once it was lodged deep, Tasha began to twist the blade inside of me.

My vision began to dim as lifeblood began to spill from the wound. Tasha swore, and withdrew the blade quickly. Yet, this only served to make the blood spill faster.

"Didn't mean to.. Stop the bleeding.." Tasha was muttering, frantically grabbing at the walls behind her. She ran towards me and untied my chains, not bothering to catch my body as it slumped to the floor. Doing my best to watch her from the cold stone beneath me, I did my best to ignore the pain. If anything, the sharp stinging heightened my senses, and I waited for my chance.

"She can't die!" Tasha yelled, suddenly angry again. "I need her alive! Father!"

Tasha flung herself out of the side door, it shutting with a resounding thud behind her. Seeing my chance, I dragged myself painfully to the place where I had seen the light streaming through. My wrists and ankles ached from the hours spent chained in the air, and they were cracked and bloody from where I had tried to free myself. My mouth was bloodied and beaten, and my lips torn from being hit. I didn't doubt I would be unrecognisable even to myself, yet I pushed the thought from my mind. I could fix my face later.

Groaning, I flung my scraped shoulder against the concrete, hoping to find the entrance that Tasha had just disappeared through. To my chagrin, nothing budged. I groaned under my breath as a throbbing pain began to creep through my back. Gritting my teeth, I clutched my stomach and once again tried to shove open the hidden entrance.

Nothing.

Gasping for breath, I turned and attempted to drag the one stool in the corner of the room near the torture wall towards the middle of the room, below where I had caught a small glimpse of a trapdoor in the ceiling as Natasha had entered earlier. I was dismayed when I realised the chair was chained to the floor, and in my weakened state I had no chance of moving it. Swearing under my breath, I crawled to the edge of the room, picking up a long, slender blade from the wall. I didn't know what it was meant for, and nor did I want to. My aim was to try and use the blade to open the door above me, but I quickly realised this was impossible as fresh blood spilled from my wound as I tried to reach above my head.

Hissing in pain, I finally allowed myself to sink into the floor. It was hopeless, I knew that. There was absolutely no way I was going to escape this prison. I allowed my head to fall onto the hard floor with a thud, curling my body into a small ball to try and slow the bleeding. Yet, I knew that was useless as well. I was going to die on the floor of this pit, in the dark, my life cut short by the jealous ravings of a mad woman.

But it didn't have to be this way, I thought to myself, my thoughts dulling. I didn't have to suffer for long, not if I knew I was going to die anyway. My eyes caught on the slim blade I had grabbed moments before, eyeing the sharpened tip speculatively as it lay on the ground next to me. It was the one way to ensure I didn't cave before the end, the one way to ensure Natasha never had the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

It didn't take me long to decide. I knew I didn't have long before a loss of blood would take away my ability to think clearly- I'd seen it happen to people before. I grasped the hilt of the blade in my hand, the metal slipping on the blood on my hands. Gasping for breath, I prepared to plunge my blade into my own body, ready to die.

BANG.

The sound of something clanging above me made me jump in fright, the hilt slipping even further. My breathing quickened, my heart racing as I realised I didn't have much time left. Even now, Natasha was most likely only moments away, ready to continue her torture for as long as she could until her sick satisfaction was fulfilled. I would die before I gave that to her, and that was exactly what I planned to do.

BANG.

Another sound, this time directly above me, startled me once again. Hands shaking, I tried to use the last of my strength to force the blade into my torso.

Yet, it fell from my hands.

With a strangled cry, I struggled to lift the weapon once more. Yet, once again, my strength failed me. I had waited too long- I knew I was dead regardless, but a quick ending had been denied to me. With despair, I listened as the sound of the trapdoor above my head gently creaked open. If silence was the method Ronald wanted to scare me with, he would be sorely disappointed- I could hear him coming. A soft thump could be heard next to my head as someone lowered themselves into the same horrible pit I was locked in, but I ignored it. I hoped they thought I was dead, and simply let me die alone.

Almost immediately after, a second set of feet could be heard softly next to my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing in the blackness they wouldn't be able to see me anyway. However, the blows I expected never came. Instead, gentle hands began to touch my body gently. I wasn't fooled- they were trying to lull me into a false sense of security. My thoughts were increasingly becoming scattered, but even I realised something was wrong when a soft voice whispered from above me.

"Jesus Dim, she's bleeding out," a male voice was saying. I could tell there was a barely concealed fury underneath the quiet. "We need to get her out of here now."

"I know, Ed." The voice was grim and harsh, and instinctively I cringed away from it. I couldn't remember the face that went with the voice, but I knew that pain would follow not soon after.

"Roza, let me help you!" I curled further in on myself as cold hands lifted me from the floor. The body I was curled against was warm and firm all at once, but I shut the memories from my mind. I didn't want to remember; I couldn't allow myself to.

"Dimitri, we don't have time for this!" The first voice hissed once more, the urgency in the tone unmistakeable. "Grab her and let's go!"

"Christ!"

I was lifted effortlessly into the air, long arms cradling my body. By now I was barely aware of what was going on, and I no longer cared if these men killed me. Death would be a welcome relief. Every single part of me was cold, from my fingers to my toes.

"We have to hurry, Ed. She's freezing."

I heard the sound of a door opening, followed by another voice.

"Did you find her?"

"Russell, help her up!" Before my mind was able to catch up with my surroundings, an excruciating pain ripped through my torso. A scream ripped its way through my chest, tearing itself from my throat. And then, the world turned to black.

The sound of voices shouting awoke me. Every part of me was sheer agony, and tears were seeping slowly from the corners of my eyes. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe. Yet, I knew I was no longer in my prison.

"Who did this?" A feminine voice was growling. "Who did this to her?"

"Mother, we don't have time to talk," another female was countering. "She's in her deathbed."

A pair of colds hands worked their way under my body, and my eyes flew open, exposing me to my surroundings. His face in front of me was the first thing I saw, chiselled and rough, his dark eyes boring into mine.

"Roza, it's all going to be okay," he was soothing, raising his large hand to cup my face.

But it wasn't.

I cringed away from his touch, wincing at the movement. "Don't touch me," I croaked through my swollen throat. "Don't you touch me."

I couldn't remember exactly what he had done, but I knew he had hurt me, and I knew that it was because of him I was laying here now. His brows burrowed together, and his lips pursed, but before he had time to speak a friendlier face took his place.

"Dimitri, leave her alone." The woman looked haggard and frayed, but she was still beautiful. Some small part of my brain recognised her as the queen, and I dully wondered why she looked so stressed.

"Yeah, I think you've done enough, haven't you?" Another sharp voice interjected. A smaller pair of hands replaced his, this pair of brown eyes both warmer and more comforting.

"Rose, its Viktoria," she said to me. "We need to roll you over so we can get a better look at your back. Do you think you can do that for us?"

I nodded my head, clamping my eyes shut. I could feel the wetness of blood against my stomach, and knew that this would only likely be the beginning. Feeling numerous pairs of hands against me, I allowed myself to sink deep into myself against the pain- not only of my body, but of my world.

So, what do you think? I would like to thank the lovely people who have PM'd me and left reviews about this story- I like to know what you like so I can choose the direction of the rest of it. That's why I've made this chapter shorter; I can delve straight into the next one! Thank you all so much for sticking with me during this.