TRIGGER WARNING: The chapter contains a heavy emphasis on sexual assault.
Unforgiving hands seized her, pinning her on the hardwood. They encircled her wrists, others gripped onto the flesh of her hips hard enough to bruise.
It hurt worse than she could have ever imagined.
The bastards wanted her to suffer.
Everything around her made her want to vomit. The taste of copper from her split lips. The salt of sweat and tears. The throbbing handprint on her right cheek. The peals of male laughter. The disgusting taunts. The weight of another body on hers. The sound of flesh against flesh.
No.
Gwyn wouldn't let them see the unshed tears in her eyes. She refused.
Her lips moved in a silent prayer to the Mother and the Cauldron that the children stayed quiet. If they made it out of this ordeal alive, she could endure. Someone had to survive.
She shut her eyes tight, hoping to be taken away from the way her cheek rubbed against the table. All she could picture was her sister's pleading gaze at the hands of the Hybern soldiers.
Catrin.
Her best friend.
Her twin sister.
All Gwyn could see was her Catrin's wide eyes as the sword met her sister's neck.
She couldn't have her eyes closed and relive her sister's death. Her gaze focused on the floor, to the shadows cast in the light of the flickering candles. The shadows looked alive. It was a comfort to focus on them, the way they undulated and swayed, changed with the wavering light.
The Commander took what he wanted without her giving him what he wanted— the hidden children. He gave the order to the other two soldiers to continue using her until she gave up the whereabouts. The tinny zipper of the next sounded as loud and foreboding as thunder.
"No," she squeaked, trying to force herself up, only to have a meaty hand pressed between her shoulder blades. She fastened her eyes shut, steeling herself for what was to come once more…
A scream snapped her eyes open.
More screams and grunts.
The sound of metal on metal.
A thud.
Gwyn took in a shuddering breath and tentatively looked over her shoulder.
Hybern's men lay in a heap at the Illyrian warrior's feet. Her teal eyes met his golden ones, and she took in a breath, trying to push up to cover her body. Not a second passed before the male placed his cloak over her, sitting up upright on the table. She held the ends together with trembling fingers.
He took a step back, his hands raised. "I will not hurt you." He placed a hand on his chest as he addressed her in a soft voice. "My name is Azriel. The High Lord of the Night Court sent me here. We're going to get you out of here. You're safe now."
Shivering, she pulled the ends of the fabric even tighter with shaking hands, realizing now what he must have seen when he walked in—
"There are children...hiding in the cellar under the rug...under this table...I tried to get as many as I could...I tried to save…"
"Shhh," he soothed but didn't move closer. "Don't worry, we'll get them out of here. You're safe."
With wild eyes, she allowed herself to survey the room. Bodies and blood covered the floor. The room was absolute carnage. It was horror.
Shadows curled over his shoulders behind his wings and slid out to her. And just like the shadows that had swept across the floor, they brought her comfort. Her gaze met his as his shadows wrapped around her. She could get lost in those hazel eyes, the way the golds mingled with the greens and browns. There was sorrow and anger for her, for them, in his stare—and yet she couldn't look away. Gwyn was in pain everywhere, but when she looked into his eyes she felt...
A light, cool stroke against her cheek jolted her from sleep.
The blankets tangled around her form, wet with her sweat, a reminder that her dream had started as a veritable nightmare. It was one of many. Gwyn couldn't remember the last time she got a full night's sleep since the attack at Sangravah. A few hours uninterrupted was a rare occurrence now.
Her hand absently stroked her cheek, wondering what had roused her from her horror. The rising sun peeked over the ledge of her tiny window in her dorm room, reminding her of her battle ahead. Today. Today she was going to leave the library and go into the world. And she would, for Nesta and Cassian. Though it terrified her deep down, she would push through the panic. All she needed was the love and support of her friends and she would be fine. They were her safety and her strength.
With a deep breath in and out, Gwyn sat up in her small bed.
"I am the rock against which the surf crashes." She reminded herself that she was not that weak girl at the mercy of those men anymore. She never would be ever again. "Nothing can break me."