Blood for Honor
Chapter 2

The tinkling of chains echoes off metal walls, and I jerk awake with a helpless yelp. Darkness conceals my prison, blinding me, and my fingertips tingle from the weight pulling against my wrists. I blindly grip the chains connected to the cuffs restraining me, tugging against them while praying for the chain links to give way.

My effort proves futile, and the noise made by the chains against the metal wall is unbearable in the silence surrounding me. I give up the struggle, saving my wrists from the abuse while trying to get my feet under me. The smooth leather soles of my boots slip on a slick floor, and I fall back against the wall with a grunt of pain.

The sound of rustling next to me tells me that I am not alone and is possibly the source of noise that woke me up in the first place. The individual in question either cannot talk or chooses to remain quiet.

The sound of heavy boots on concrete meets my ears, and dread pools like a weight in the pit of my stomach. My heart thuds painfully in my chest. I know instinctively that the sound is coming straight for us. It will not pass.

The footsteps stop, and the jingle of a lock echoes around me for one heart-stopping moment. Then the door is thrust upward, filling the room with mid-morning sunlight. The light bounces off of the silvery walls of my prison cell, and the room glows orange. Squinting, I turn my head away from the glaring light to replace Danny gagged and chained up next to me in a ray of sunlight, staring at me with amber eyes void of emotion.

At the sight of my husband, I forget how to breathe. With a pitiful whimper, dread constricts my heart in my chest. I only look away when Danny does to take in the smugness of our captor as Charon Chief Carnegie Lysander waltzes in with an air of overzealous joy about him.

Carnegie’s X-shaped Charon mark is on a prominent display on the side of his neck above the stiff collar of his red vest. It triggers the memory of Danny publicly burning off his own Charon tattoo. It was my mother’s one request as a show of loyalty before Danny could have my hand in marriage. Much to the rest of my family’s disdain, he went through with it.

Danny deserted his family and clan to be with me, deeming himself a traitor to his kin, all in the name of love. Yet he was never worthy enough to be marked as a Blackthorn. Anger still rises at the thought, and I cannot help but drop my gaze to the ragged scar peeking out from the top of Danny’s shirt.

I am starting to regret dragging Danny into my life if it is what gets him killed. I know Carnegie will not let Danny Rekkon, Blood Traitor, leave this room alive after hunting him for over four years.

Defaulting from your clan on either side is punishable by death. You are blood-bound. Breaking that bond should not be taken lightly. Most people do not break it, but Danny didn’t even think twice about it when given a chance.

A sword hangs at Carnegie’s side in an ornate sheath. I glance at Danny in fear. His curly light brown hair falls in his face as he glares at Carnegie, and the sunlight sets his eyes ablaze behind the curtain of hair.

“Well, well, well,” Carnegie says with a chuckle; there is an all too excited gleam in his ice-blue eyes for my liking. “This is my lucky day,” he says to no one in particular.

The arrogance in his tone makes me want to slap him, but Danny and I stay silent behind the gags over our mouths.

Carnegie studies me, undressing me with his cold eyes as they roam over my body. I feel like a piece of meat on display for sale. His eyes pierce my soul as he drags them upward to meet my own, and the hairs on my neck stand up straight.

The angular black marks around Carnegie’s eyes are endearing, and his eyes almost glow in contrast. His white-blond hair is shaved on the sides, the long middle section braided down his back, revealing angular black tattoos on the side of his head that match the ones around his eyes.

Carnegie Lysander would be a handsome man if his countenance were not so terrifying.

“How about we have a chat?” Carnegie asks as he continues to stare at me. He pulls away the cloth over my mouth much slower than needed and strokes my hair where it has fallen over my face.

I shrug away from him, and he lets his hand fall with a glance at Danny, who growls through his gag in protest. Carnegie shifts to stand in front of him, looking Danny hard in the eyes. Carnegie rears back, punching him in the gut with one swift movement.

Danny gasps for the breath forced from his lungs as I cry out. “Leave him alone!” I yell, straining against my chains again, despite the futility of my actions.

Carnegie smiles, turning his attention back to me. His gloved hand reaches out, stroking the side of my face gently. The kiss of the cold black leather makes me shiver, and I jerk away from him. He roughly grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.

He points to both of us with an accusing finger as he speaks. “There is only one thing each of you is here for. Danny Boy is going to die for his treachery, and you are going to watch. It is only right since you are the reason he broke the Blood Covenant in the first place,” he says matter-of-factly.

I watch in abject horror as Carnegie turns his attention to Danny, at a loss for words.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this day.” Carnegie happily rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he speaks. “Our dishonorable defector. All for a good lay, right? I can see why.” Carnegie stares at me again, taking in my form with a hungry look in his eyes.

He continues, ignoring the scathing glare on Danny’s face. “Did you know that your face has been plastered on every Wanted board for four years? ‘Wanted: Dead or Alive,’ by the very Chief himself,” he tells Danny, speaking of himself in the third person with a flourish of his hand. “Now, that is quite some time to manage to stay off of my radar, not to mention completely undetected,” Carnegie says, pausing to smile wolfishly at me. “My patience has finally been rewarded, and I managed to kill two birds with one stone.”

Danny tenses next to me, gripping his chains in anger.

Carnegie turns to me, grinning like the Cheshire Cat with nearly perfect, well-kept teeth. “You ever question if your husband is as loyal as you think?” he asks.

“No,” I say bitterly as butterflies flit around my stomach at his question.

“Maybe you should have.” My eyes widen at his unspoken accusation, and his grin grows.

“What do you mean?” I ask, voice shaking as dread bubbles in the pit of my stomach.

In Carnegie’s silence, I turn my gaze, searching Danny for answers. He shakes his head at Carnegie, refusing to look at me. His garbled speech is unintelligible through his gag, and I cannot tell if he is trying to deny Carnegie’s claim or not.

“Let him speak for himself!” I try not to yell, but my emotions get the better of me. Tears threaten me as the belief that my husband might have betrayed Blackthorn starts to grab hold.

“He will only try to deny it. He didn’t want you to know he thought he made a mistake in defecting. He thought I would let him come home if he got me inside Blackthorn’s gates. I may have failed to mention that I do not make deals with traitors,” Carnegie says, directing the last bit at Danny, who stares quietly at our captor while avoiding my gaze.

My world starts to crumble before my eyes. “Please tell me there is something we can do. It doesn’t have to be this way,” I plead, afraid for Danny’s life.

Even as the bitterness of my husband’s now very possible betrayal encases my heart, my love for him never falters. I do not want him to die. I want to know if Carnegie is telling the truth, and if he is, I want a chance to work through this.

“No, there isn’t. He broke the Blood Covenant. You know what that means,” Carnegie says darkly. “I want to watch him bleed for his betrayal. You should too.”

I stare at Danny, opened-mouthed but silent, as I watch on in horror. I am unable to process what I am witnessing properly.

Carnegie pulls his sword from its sheath with a metallic ring, and the shimmer of metal sends me into a panic.

“No, please!” I cry out in fear for the man I love, unable to stop myself.

Danny catches my eyes, silencing me as Carnegie stands stoically in front of him. There is defeat, and something like guilt, in the amber orbs looking longingly at me.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles through the cloth gag, and my breath hitches.

“You did do it?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

Never would I have genuinely believed it, and I won’t without his actual admission. Surely I am misunderstanding him.

Carnegie shoves the sword’s blade upward under Danny’s rib cage before he can answer, piercing his heart as he hangs helplessly beside me. A single huff of pain escapes his lips through the gag. Carnegie pulls the blade out, and Danny begins to choke on blood.

Time stops, and I cannot breathe.

Blood stains the cloth gag, seeping from the corners of his mouth as he tries to gasp for air. His eyes never leave mine as I stare back in horror, mouth agape in a silent scream of anguish. A red stain grows over the front of Danny’s white tunic, getting larger by the second.

A wretched sob breaks from my throat as Danny’s head drops to his chest, and the life leaves him. His body slumps against the chains holding him upright as a single tear rolls down his face.

“NO!” I scream, replaceing my voice as I kick out, unable to make contact with Carnegie’s face like I want.

He laughs at me as he dances away from my kicking feet. It makes me angry as well as distraught. “You son-of-a—” I curse, my voice breaking off in a sob.

“Now, now, don’t insult my mother. She was no saint, but that’s just rude,” Carnegie says with a wicked smile.

I cry out again at the sight of Danny’s lifeless body. A painful yearning burns through my chest, and my vision turns red.

I will never get to set things right or learn the truth. Treason will be his legacy.

My ears start to ring, louder and louder, until it consumes me, tears clouding my vision. I want to rip Carnegie apart for taking that from me.

Carnegie has to pay. He cannot get away with this.

I don’t have time to plan my revenge. Carnegie pulls a syringe from a pocket inside his vest and pops the cap off. I am unsure if he means to knock me out or kill me with it.

He strikes quick as a rattlesnake before I can twist away, impaling my thigh with the needle before pushing down on the plunger. The contents are cold in my veins, chilling me to the bone, and my vision starts to fade.

“See you soon, my love,” Carnegie whispers.

“No—” My voice trails off as the stupor sets over me.

The serum is potent, but the feeling is unlike the dart, and unconsciousness creeps in rather than rushing over me. I cannot fight it and succumb to the darkness as my world completely shatters around me.

I know only one thing as everything fades away. Nothing will ever be the same.

I surface from a dark dream world to replace my mouth gagged again, but I am no longer chained against a wall. Instead, I am strapped to something cold and hard that rests on an incline—a table, maybe. I attempt to lift my pounding head to look through the darkness but quickly give up.

There is nothing to see in the pitch-black encompassing me, and my head is too heavy to lift in my lethargy. Or maybe it is strapped down, too—I cannot tell.

Tears burn my eyes as memories come rushing back through the drug-induced fog, crashing down on me like a tidal wave. The breathlessness of grief has me gasping for air in seconds, and the sound of rustling leather escapes me as I try to claw my way out of the recesses of my mind.

My prison door is forced up, and late afternoon sunlight filters in as the door rolls open with a clatter. I jerk at the sound, and my head flops to the side.

Not strapped down, then.

My gag absorbs most of the tears streaming from my eyes, but I try to wipe away the remnant on my shoulder as someone appears beside me. A familiar gloved hand grabs my chin, preventing me from ridding myself of the evidence of my weakness. My vision starts to clear in the light, and Carnegie’s face comes into focus faster than I would like him to.

His infuriating smirk appears as our eyes meet. “Rise and shine, my love.”

Carnegie carefully pushes the gag down around my neck, freeing my mouth. “I was starting to think I put you through too much.”

I’m not sure what he is talking about, but with my mouth free, a surge of energy goes through me, and I use it to curse him again. “You’re a son-of—”

The back of his hand connects with my jaw, cutting me off mid-sentence. My head snaps to the other side, blood filling my mouth with the taste of iron, but the pain clears my head. Before I can spit the mouthful of blood at him, he grabs me by the throat, pushing me against the hard surface of the table I lay on.

“Is that the only insult you have? Watch it,” he threatens, his fingers tensing around my throat in warning.

I replace my voice in the pressure of his fingers. “You killed him!” I rasp out, tears cutting fresh rivers down my face.

Like a film reel playing before my eyes, I relive the red stain spreading across Danny’s chest. I am entranced by the ruby red drops of blood that run down his chin as the viscous liquid soaks his gag and drips from the corners of his lips—lips I will never feel pressed against my own in passion again.

“Yeah, well, I don’t take lightly to my men disgracing Charon and running off with some Blackthorn whore. He deserted his clan, becoming enemies with his fellow brothers-in-arms—his family,” Carnegie spits out angrily.

I close my eyes, wishing I were anywhere else.

Anyone else.

The heavy weight of grief on my chest will surely kill me if I have to stay in this reality any longer. I would give anything to turn back time, but this is my life now. I will regret everything I never said—and all the things I should never have let pass my lips for the rest of my life.

Carnegie loosens his grip on my throat, stroking my bottom lip with his gloved thumb in thought. I open my eyes out of distrust of his motives, glaring at him with all the vehemence I can manage.

Curiosity softens the anger in his eyes as he mulls a thought over. “You must be something special to make a man do that,” he says, voice soft as he smells my hair.

My skin crawls, but I only give him the truth, my voice becoming stronger with each word. “Danny didn’t leave Charon because of me. He hated you before he met me. I just gave him a reason to finally leave,” I hiss.

Anger flashes back across Carnegie’s face. My jaw clenches, readying myself for another hit. It does not come, so I continue to goad him. “You disgusted him with your barbarism and blatant disregard for your men’s life. He got out before you sent him on some fool’s suicide run,” I say in a stronger voice than I thought I could muster past the lump in my throat.

The blood I have yet to spit out pools in my mouth, coating my bottom lip as my confidence builds with each second. I clench my fists as the adrenaline begins coursing through me, leaning forward as much as the table straps allow. Carnegie does not pull back, glaring at me studiously. Malice is evident in his eyes, but I know he wants to hear what I have to say.

“You can’t take us down,” I growl between clenched teeth. I spit the blood onto his face in disrespect. “The blood you’ve lost to us has been in vain. You can’t overcome us. No matter how hard you try. It was for naught,” I say with a snarl. I do not know who came out on top in the attack on my village, but it doesn’t matter. Even if Blackthorn lost, I am willing to bet that we took most of the Charon that made it through the gate down with us. The thought fills me with pride.

I want Carnegie to lose his composure, but he must know this as he calmly wipes his face clean of blood. He merely responds with that infuriating smirk and a chuckle. With his foot, he nudges something at the base of the table. A clicking sound coaxes his mouth into a wide grin.

My stomach drops as his hand tips the table backward, dunking me into a barrel of cold water behind me. I scream out involuntarily, losing most of my oxygen supply in one fell swoop. Unable to fight against my restraints, I stare up through the water, captivated by Carnegie’s icy eyes distorted by the water, quickly drowning me. I use what air I have left to keep it out of my nose, and my lungs start to burn.

Carnegie tilts the table upright, saving me from a watery grave as my vision starts to darken. Spitting and sputtering, I gasp for air. Despite my tenacity, I cannot manage a glare at the man in front of me now—I can barely manage to hold back the threat of tears.

Standing over me with his arms crossed, he watches me gluttonously suck in air before speaking in a calculated voice. “So you think,” he says, making my spine tingle. “You don’t know who else I have.” He gently brushes wet hair out of my eyes.

Damian’s face flashes in my mind, and a bitter sickness rises in my stomach.

How could I have forgotten?

My breathing becomes shallow as I try to control my panic. With my increasing distress, Carnegie’s toothy grin grows, and he lets out a solitary whistle. Two guards drag a limp body through the open door at the sound.

“Damian?” I ask in a small voice, rivulets of water blurring my vision as they drip into my eyes.

A groan comes from the man, and Carnegie grabs a fist full of his hair, lifting his head. Blood runs from his hairline, and his eyes are unfocused, but it is my brother—the direct heir to the Blackthorn throne in the hands of our enemy.

Oh God, no.

“Your brother is off to hang next to your dear husband,” Carnegie says happily, his words sending my heart into the pit of my stomach.

Carnegie releases Damian’s hair and saunters back over to me, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper to speak into my ear. “By the way, lover boy makes a nice scarecrow.”

The color drains from my face as he chuckles in my ear, but no tears threaten this time. I can only feel pure, unadulterated hatred for the man standing next to me.

I look past Carnegie to lay eyes once more on my brother. “Fight, Damian!”

“He can’t do that. He got whacked upside the head pretty hard,” Carnegie says, smiling happily at Damian over his shoulder. “Take him away,” he orders, ignoring my angry protests.

My anger turns to panic as they pull my brother’s limp body from the room. “Wait, please! What do you want?” I cry out, still holding on to the hope that I can say or do something to save my brother’s life despite failing to save Danny’s.

Carnegie ignores me.

The two men drag my brother off without a fight, and Carnegie’s voice drops an octave. The monotone way in which he speaks unsettles something deep inside of me. I want to lash out, but I am paralyzed. “I want you to continue on, and sooner or later, you will do exactly what I want you to do, whether you want to or not.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear as he continues to speak in the same wearisome tone. “Your people won’t accept your leadership when your father is gone. Not after Danny. When they replace out your husband is a traitor, they won’t trust you as they should and will look for someone else to lead them. You will do what you feel you must do to protect your people.

“Your clan is forged by blood, my dear. Blood rules, and you will be the only one left who can fill that order when they need it most. No one other than you will do with Damian gone, but unfortunately, you won’t do either.”

Soft music fills the atmosphere, and my heart pounds against my rib cage. An anxiety attack surfaces from the pit of my stomach. My entire body shakes uncontrollably, and I glance at Carnegie, confounded and fearful. A small wooden box plays a song I have never heard before in the palm of his hand.

The tremors rolling through my body are not from a normal anxiety attack, the likes of which I have had years to learn to control. I am powerless against this. This is different from anything I have ever experienced, and it is terrifying—uncontrollable.

My vision shimmers like sunlight on ice. “What did you do to me?” I ask breathlessly through chattering teeth, barely holding on to the last vestiges of consciousness.

“It won’t do me any good to try and explain it to you right now. You will only remember what I want you to, and that wouldn’t be one of those things. You won’t even remember most of this for a while,” Carnegie says. His voice is soft and reassuring. “Don’t worry,” he continues, “everything will be as it should be.”

The music pierces my eardrums with a low hum. The straps over my arms and legs strain against my limbs as convulsions rip through my body, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. My back arches off the table and I yell out once as a shock-like jolt runs from my head to my toes.

It only lasts a moment, but I fall back against the table, drained and weak, as if it has lasted a lifetime.

“It is not too painful, I hope?” Carnegie asks, almost as if he cares.

“W-what was that?” I ask, voice shaking as the music fades. Tears slowly leak from my eyes, cascading over my cheeks one after another.

He disregards my question, a faint smile gracing his thin lips before he speaks. ”Despierta, mi amor.”

Like the flip of a switch, everything goes black, and I see and hear no more.