Capture (17 page)

Ryneq rolled his eyes and scooted farther over, making a clear space next to him. “They already think we’re lovers,” he said, patting the bed. “It would look odd if I made you sleep on the floor.”

Oh, fuck. With hardly enough room for one of them on the narrow bed, let alone two, they’d have to lie very close together if they were going to fit. Very carefully, so as not to jostle his injured arm, Nykin lay down in front of Ryneq and moved a little closer so he wasn’t in danger of falling off.

He heard an amused huff from behind him. The next thing he knew, a strong, well-muscled arm slipped around his waist and pulled him securely backward. Nykin tensed as he felt Ryneq’s chest flush against his back.

“Can’t have you falling out of bed and damaging that arm further,” Ryneq mumbled into the back of Nykin’s neck, and it was all Nykin could do not to shiver as warm breath washed over his bare skin. “Go to sleep.”

Nykin closed his eyes and tried to ignore how good it felt to have Ryneq holding him like this, and how much he wished it were under different circumstances.

R
YNEQ
LAY
awake long after Nykin’s body relaxed into sleep. He felt the rise and fall of Nykin’s chest, and his arm tightened reflexively, pulling him closer.
Fuck
. When Hatak had sauntered into his cell, boasting about a “surprise,” this was the very furthest thing from his mind. He’d been so pleased to see a familiar face, despite the fact that Nykin was risking his life by coming here.

In light of their current situation, Ryneq saw no reason to try and keep his distance anymore. They could both be dead this time tomorrow. He rested his head against the back of Nykin’s short hair and drew in a long, deep breath. Nykin smelled of leather and horses, something so familiar that Ryneq took a moment to lose himself in it. It had been a huge fucking shock to see Nykin—all short hair and in the wrong uniform—but when he’d kissed him, Ryneq had momentarily forgotten where they were. He hadn’t felt his many aches and pains, only registering the soft scrape of Nykin’s lips against his. But Hatak’s mocking voice had soon snapped him out of it.

Ryneq could still feel the touch of Nykin’s mouth, but he pushed the memory to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to indulge in reckless fantasies about one of his dragon riders, not when their very lives hung in the balance. He understood why Nykin had lied to Hatak about them being lovers; there was no way Hatak would have kept Nykin alive if he didn’t think Nykin would be of some use. If Hatak truly believed Ryneq had strong feelings for Nykin, then that suddenly made Nykin very valuable indeed.

He shouldn’t be here, though. Ryneq had all but accepted his fate. He’d known this was a possibility, and that was why he’d given Eldin orders not to send anyone after him. And tomorrow Nykin would be tortured—probably to near death—to try and get him to talk. And the worst thing about it all was that Nykin needed them to do exactly that for his and Eldin’s plan to work.

Ryneq’s head hurt from trying to wrap his mind around it all. He just hoped Cerylea was still safe, and if this plan somehow worked, that they wouldn’t put her in more danger. He closed his eyes and eventually fell asleep, with Nykin still pressed firmly against his chest.

T
HE
BRIGHT
,
early-morning sun shone through the small window of their cell, slowly rousing Ryneq. Hatak would be coming for them soon. “Nykin?” he whispered, giving Nykin’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “Wake up.”

Ryneq smirked as Nykin grumbled in his sleep and moved his hand back onto Ryneq’s thigh, sliding it unconsciously inward toward his crotch. He knew the exact moment that Nykin woke up and realized what he was doing, because Nykin’s whole body tensed. He snatched his hand away like it was on fire, and tried to put as much space between the two of them as was humanly possible. Nykin would have toppled right off the edge of the bed if Ryneq hadn’t caught hold of his shoulder and stopped him.

“Fuck! Calm down, Nykin.” Ryneq waited until he was sure Nykin wouldn’t move again, then slowly loosened his grip. “They’ll be here soon, and we need to talk.”

Nykin nodded and carefully sat up, swinging his feet down onto the ground. He helped himself to a drink of water from the nearby pail and then refilled the cup for Ryneq. Nykin fidgeted about on the edge of the bed, casting furtive glances over at the other, larger bucket shoved into the far corner of the room. “Is that…?” He trailed off, pointing over at it, and Ryneq could easily sense his discomfort. Nothing about this situation was pleasant, but the lack of bathroom facilities was the least of their problems right now.

“Yeah… it is.” Ryneq finished the last of his water and shifted down the bed so he could get up and go and relieve himself.

He busied himself using the drinking water to swill around his mouth and attempt to dispel some of the foul morning taste while Nykin took his turn at the bucket. With that out of the way, he cleared his throat and caught Nykin’s attention.

“I’m not going to tell you where she is. You understand that?” Ryneq started. “Even if they… even if they don’t go for your whole escape plan, and threaten to…. I won’t tell them.” He needed Nykin to understand. Ryneq was fully prepared to die in order to keep his sister safe, and as much as he hated the thought of it, he was prepared to let Nykin die too. Cerylea was much more important for the future of Torsere than either of them.

Nykin looked up at him, his dark-blue eyes full of resolve and determination. “I know.” He didn’t elaborate, but from the stiff set of his shoulders, Ryneq knew he understood completely. As far as Ryneq was concerned, they were both already dead. He didn’t hold out much hope that Nykin’s plan would work, or that they’d actually be allowed to escape, but Ryneq didn’t see any point in mentioning his doubts, so he just nodded and kept them to himself.

The sound of the lock turning had them both starting and looking over at the door, but it was just Cassia, the same girl who’d tended to Ryneq’s wounds the day before. The guards’ voices could be heard out in the passage, but they didn’t enter this time. Cassia raised her eyebrows at seeing the two of them sitting there, but didn’t comment. She placed a small plate of food on the bed next to them and then proceeded to change the bucket in the corner for a fresh one before leaving them alone again.

They split the meager food offering between them and washed it down with more water. “So what do you think they’ll do to us today?” Nykin asked when he’d finished eating.

Ryneq eased himself back to lean against the wall, taking most of the weight on his good shoulder. “Well, considering they think we’re lovers, I expect they’ll torture you in front of me, to try and get me to talk. Although you’ll need to be on your own with them for the plan to work. So hopefully they’ll send me back here at some point.” He considered Nykin for a moment. “What did you tell them yesterday? What did they ask you?”

Nykin shuffled back to sit beside him. “They asked about Cerylea’s whereabouts, dragon riders—Hatak was particularly interested in them—basically everything you’d expect a high-ranking palace guard to know about.”

Ryneq hummed in response. “And what did you tell him?”

“Nothing!” Nykin was quick to answer. “I lied. I told him I didn’t know anything about the dragon riders and their dragons, or where Cerylea was being hidden.”

“If you didn’t give him anything, I’m surprised he didn’t just kill you.”

Nykin looked over at him and Ryneq could see the faintest of blushes dusting his cheeks. “That’s why I told him we were lovers.”

Ryneq closed his eyes for a second. “They’re going to hurt you, Nykin.” He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see the bruises already coloring Nykin’s face. “Now they think they have leverage against me, it’s going to be so much worse than yesterday.” He heard Nykin sigh and turned to look at him.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Nykin asked. He looked down at his bandaged arm and fiddled with the edges of the white binding. “Eldin went through all these arguments already.”

“And yet you came anyway?” Ryneq raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Why?”

“I….” He stopped and carefully let his hands rest in his lap. “Torsere needs you. We couldn’t just leave you here to die.”

That’s exactly what you should’ve done!
Ryneq wanted to say, but he didn’t want to tarnish Nykin’s bravery. It might have been a foolish thing that he’d done, but Ryneq could appreciate what Nykin had sacrificed for him—what the rest of the men and women under Eldin’s command were willing to sacrifice to help him escape.

Before Ryneq had the chance to respond out loud, the door banged open and Hatak marched in, flanked by two of his soldiers.

“
Fuck
.” Nykin muttered too low for anyone but Ryneq to hear, and his back immediately stiffened. Ryneq was quietly impressed by the level of calm Nykin managed to outwardly convey, though. He wanted to squeeze Nykin’s shoulder, give him some sign of support, but Hatak was watching them carefully and Ryneq didn’t want to appear weak in front of him.

Hatak waved a hand over at the two of them and turned to address the soldiers now behind him. “Take them down to the room.” He grinned as Ryneq was pulled roughly to his feet. “And secure them.”

Ryneq didn’t resist as he was none too gently escorted along the stone passageways that were now becoming far too familiar. He couldn’t see Nykin behind him, but he heard him grunt when he stumbled. Ryneq had to bite back the urge to turn around and shove the soldier away from Nykin. They were going to torture him soon enough, for fuck’s sake. They didn’t need to start harassing him already. If he ever got out of here, Ryneq swore he was going to kill them all.

Far too soon, they reached the same interrogation room as before, and Hatak stood and watched as they were secured in place. Ryneq was once again strapped to the chair, his hands tied to the armrests and his feet to the legs.

They dragged Nykin over to the far wall and shackled his arms above his head. He winced as they tugged on his injured arm, and Ryneq cursed them under his breath. The guards had already positioned Ryneq’s chair so he was facing Nykin, and not for the first time, Ryneq really wished Nykin hadn’t come for him.

Hatak walked between the two of them, his knife already out and waving around in the air as he spoke. “Let me explain how this is going to work.” He pointed his knife at Ryneq. “I’m going to ask you a question, and if you don’t answer to my liking”—he swung his arm over so his knife was now pointing at Nykin—“I’ll take it out on lover boy here.”

Hatak smiled darkly and leaned in so the tip of the blade rested against Nykin’s cheekbone. “He’s so pretty, Ryneq.” He pressed a little harder until the knife pierced Nykin’s skin and a drop of deep-red blood slid down toward Nykin’s jaw. “It would be a shame to ruin that.”

Nykin didn’t so much as flinch, not even bothering to look Hatak in the eye as he taunted him. Ryneq’s knuckles were turning white where he gripped the arms of the chair so tightly, but if he said anything or showed how much this got to him, it would only make things worse for Nykin.

“Shall we begin?” Hatak lifted his foot, and placed the toe of his boot heavily on the chair seat between Ryneq’s legs. He leaned forward, with his arm resting on his knee. “What are the elves offering for Princess Cerylea’s hand in marriage?”

Ryneq faltered. He hadn’t been expecting Hatak to ask him that, and he didn’t answer quickly enough. Hatak waved his knife in Nykin’s direction, without turning around. One of the guards quickly stepped forward, pulled his fist back, and punched Nykin hard in the ribs.

Nykin grunted in pain, and his body swayed under the force of the blow. Ryneq glared at Hatak, hoping to show as much hatred as possible in his expression. He remained silent though, and Hatak smirked as he called for the guard to do it again.

The punch landed in the same place as before. The sickening crack of breaking bone rang out loudly in the room, and Ryneq suddenly didn’t care if he looked weak. “Nykin,” he called, cursing loudly when it took Nykin too long to look up and meet his eyes. After what seemed like forever, Nykin finally lifted his head. Tears stained his cheeks from the pain, but he gave Ryneq the smallest of smiles.

“How touching,” Hatak mocked as he stood up. “Now, unless you want to add to Nykin’s broken ribs, I suggest you answer my question.”

The union between Torsere and the Hervathian elves wasn’t a secret, so Hatak must be aware of the main reasons for it. Ryneq eyed him warily. He didn’t think for one minute that was all Hatak was after, but it was worth a shot. “Protection for Torsere.”

Hatak just scoffed and rolled his eyes, gesturing for the guard again. At least this time he aimed at the other side of Nykin’s ribs. “I’m not stupid, Ryneq. What sort of protection can the elves offer you? They’re not exactly known for their armies.”

Ryneq bit his lip and looked over at Nykin. He didn’t want to sit here and watch him get hurt, but he couldn’t betray his people either. If Hatak knew the extent of the protection the elves would provide, they would no doubt give up on finding Cerylea and go and attack Torsere right away—because after the wedding, Torsere would be as impenetrable as Alel. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were already considering it. It’s what he would do in their position.