Chains of Moonlight Chapter Fifteen

Veremund did not, actually, have much time.

Veremund was careful not to make too much noise, especially since Aesira was sleeping so peacefully on the other side of the bars. He couldn’t afford to wake her up and have to explain what he was doing. If she did, he might be able to get away with it, but it would be easier if he could pretend it had all been with Sun Elf magic than a magic she didn’t even know existed.

He kept working on carefully cutting through the bars with his shadows. Just one or two more cuts, and he’d be able to pull a large enough section from the bars to be able to crawl into hers. Although it wasn’t easy with his lip threatening to open up again anytime he breathed, and the swelling around his eye had only decreased a little.

If Veremund didn’t speed this up, it would all be for nothing.

Emmerich hadn’t been the one to give him his freshest injuries.

When he had been unexpectedly dragged away for an update, it’d been too soon since his last. When Emmerich threw him into the interrogation room, it’d been clear why.

The last thing Veremund had wanted to see in the interrogation room was his father.

Veremund hadn’t realized just how easy his brother had been taking it on him. His father had made himself very clear what he thought about Veremund’s “shenanigans.” How Veremund was wasting precious time on a worthless valkyrie.

But what he was doing was working. She’d warmed up to him considerably. She let him reach through the bars and touch her.

It had only been Emmerich catching their father by the arm and insisting Veremund wasn’t lying about his progress that the encounter ended with Veremund being allowed to continue.

He had two weeks.

If he wasn’t already halfway through her defenses and into her heart, then he was a failure. Midnight came and Veremund used the darkness to make another cut when the doors opened. What was going on?

Veremund startled back as Aesira jerked awake, wings, shooting up. He had just seen Emmerich two days before when his father had paid a visit.

That wasn’t part of the plan. What could he be back for so soon? Had something changed?

He braced himself to put on another show, although considering how real the beatings were every time, Veremund wasn’t sure his resistance was really all that forced or fake. When the guards stopped in front of Aesira’s cell and not his, Veremund shot to his feet. Aesira’s face lost all color, and she drew her wings tightly into her back. Veremund grabbed at the door, rattling it as he yelled, “Hey! Over here, you ugly brutes!”

But his insults wouldn’t phase them.

What was Emmerich doing? Surely, they weren’t going to actually interrogate her, right? No, he wasn’t so foolish as to believe that wasn’t the case. They couldn’t take her out of the cell to interrogate her and not leave a scratch on her without arousing suspicion.

“What?” He slammed his foot into the bars, rattling them again as he screamed, “You want someone? I’m right here! Don’t tell me you’re tired of me? You’re giving up on me already?”

He was yelling at them in their language, the pretense of using mostly Iubian Elvish long gone. He didn’t care anymore. He’d say whatever it took to get them to leave her. Emmerich shot him a sharp glare, but otherwise ignored him. He muttered to the guards, “Just get her out of here.”

Veremund reached his hand through the bars and grabbed at Emmerich’s sleeve. Aesira gasped. Her door was flung open and the guards descended upon her, even then her eyes were on him. He dug his fingers into his brother’s arm. “Is this you admitting you can’t get anything out of me? You think you can get anything out of her? I never thought I’d see the day that the Moon Elves would admit defeat in front of a Sun Elf.”

The guards were glaring at him, even as they grabbed hold of Aesira and hauled her to her feet as she called out his name, saying, “Ulkos, stop!”

He jerked Emmerich closer. Emmerich stumbled into the bars and the guards started to drop Aesira in order to come assist him, but Emmerich waved them on. He ripped himself out of Veremund’s grip and said, “I’ll handle this myself, just get the valkyrie to interrogation.”

Before Veremund could even think to move, Emmerich’s hand darted in between the bars and grabbed him by the back of his head, painfully sinking his nails into his skull. Aesira was being dragged out her door and down the hallway. Her eyes were on him. She wasn’t struggling at all, save turning around and trying to see him past her wings. Emmerich quickly jerked his face forward, and Veremund cried out as his nose cracked against the metal bars.

Aesira let out a sharp and cry as the blood began to pour down his face. She screamed out, “Ulkos!”

Panicked desperation laced the two short syllables before she let out another pained cry as one of the guards grabbed her head and wrenched it forward, stepping on one of her wings in the process. He heard the slight crunch, and he knew one of her wing bones had been broken. And then she was gone.

Veremund jerked his head back as Emmerich let go a savage smirk on his face. Veremund immediately held his broken nose and tilted his head back. He grabbed at the bars, ignoring his bloody nose as he spat at his brother. “This isn’t part of the plan. Bring her back now! Say it was a mistake and take me instead.”

Emmerich raised an eyebrow as he dusted his hands off on his pants. “You need to take a deep breath. Of course, it’s part of the plan. Also, even you can’t take so many beatings in a row.”

Veremund kicked at the bars again. “I don’t care. You had your shot at torturing information out of her. Now it’s my turn to do it my way, and that doesn’t involve any of your so-called interrogations.”

Emmerich said, “You’re being completely irrational and emotional today. Don’t you think she’s been getting suspicious as to why since you arrived, you’re the only one who’s been interrogated, but she’s been left alive?”

Of course he had, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to be tortured in order to keep up the ruse. “I’m clever enough to be able to divert her suspicions.”

Emmerich shrugged. “Well, now you don’t have to. I’m doing you a favor. As much as you might like to think you can do this on your own, I am here to help you.”

Veremund scoffed tasting the blood that was still pouring down his face unhindered, even as he tried to press his sleeve to it. “You’re helping me by going behind my back and messing up my plan. You bring her back right now.”

“I’m starting to think that you wearing this Sun Elf mask is actually turning you into one. Overly emotional and completely stupid. I never thought you could be so shortsighted.”

Veremund was about to reach through the bars and throttle him as best he could but Emmerich stepped out of reach, raising his hands. “Have you even thought about what will happen when she comes back? All of this is to benefit your plan. Taking you instead wouldn’t have done anything.”

Veremund settled for gripping the bars with one hand, still trying and failing to stifle the bleeding with his other. his racing heart slowed. Although his stomach was still churning, knowing what was happening to her this very moment. “What are you talking about?”

Emmerich gestured at him. “You’re almost out of time. You have a little over a week and a half left. You need something big. The whole reason I’m doing this is so you can be the hero. She’s going to come back broken and in pain, do you think she’ll really be able to continue to resist you when you’re the only one around to help her? And really, you played your part beautifully, making such a show of trying to save her and condemn yourself. That ridiculous emotional display will have convinced her you’re someone she can rely on. When she comes back, she’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand. If you would have stopped being so arrogant and listened to my advice at the beginning, we could have done this at the start, won her little heart and secrets, and had her in a shallow grave and be back to normal.”

While Veremund could see the argument, it didn’t change the fact Aesira was suffering in order to achieve the outcome.

And he didn’t care about the outcome if she was going to be in agony in order to achieve it.

The purpose of his plan had been to get the information out of her without physical harm. But Veremund was locked in a cell. While it was his plan, he was subject to his father’s will, and now it seemed Emmerich’s. He was helpless to actually stop the so-called interrogation. All he could do was wait for her to return and do his best to ease her pain when she did.

He spoke through his hands, the sound muffled and distorted, “Was bashing my face in really necessary?”

Emmerich laughed. “Of course. You were making a racket, and it would have been suspicious if I’d let you go without any consequence. Now she’s going to be swooning over the fact you were injured for her sake.”

Veremund glared at him, tilting his head back. “You’re enjoying this whole thing a little too much.”

Emmerich shook his head. “Oh, please, if you were on the other side of the bars, this would be the highlight of your decade.”

Veremund rolled his eyes. “If she’s not back within ten minutes, we’ll put that to the test.”

Emmerich moved to the door. He threw over his shoulder, “I don’t know who you’re trying to convince right now. The pigeon isn’t here. Pretending like you actually care about her suffering when you’re the one who’s going to hurt her far worse than I ever have doesn’t win you points.”

And then Emmerich was gone. Veremund stayed at the bars of his cell, holding his bleeding nose as he waited. He kept track of every minute, his knuckles stark white where he gripped the bars.

He couldn’t answer Emmerich’s question.

Who was he trying to convince?

Of course, he had always found the physical torture to be distasteful and beneath them as elves. Considering his own personal subjugation to it in the past, he wasn’t reliably unbiased in his opinion.

But just because he didn’t enjoy the mess of blood and bruises and had his own screams haunting his nightmare, that didn’t make him any better.

He was lying with every breath and tricking her into falling in love with him so he could get the tiniest advantage over her people. When the truth came out, she was going to hate him more than she ever would Emmerich. If she had the choice between the physical torture and being manipulated the way he was manipulating her into loving him, he knew what he would choose.

At least broken bones healed.

Veremund had yet to encounter a broken heart that ever truly had.

* * *

Thankfully, Emmerich did have Aesira brought back after ten minutes. And, thankfully, her physical injuries didn’t look too bad. Veremund, stomach sank as she was dragged back in her head, limp and lulling to the side as her wings dragged behind her and the guards picking up dust and dirt.

She was unconscious. That meant they’d used magical means. The guards dumped her into her cell, locking her in. As soon as they were gone, Veremund returned to his work at cutting through the bars. It took him only ten minutes of careful work, but he finally cut through the bar and began moving the bar he’d cut out to the side so he could squeeze through the gap he’d made. She was twitching in her sleep, face screwing up.

The torture wasn’t over. Whatever horrific things they’d been doing in her mind had not ceased. The nightmares following were usually worse.

He could only imagine how awful they were based on the hints she’d given him of how she believed she was a failure.

Veremund didn’t even care that the sharp bars scratched his arms as he rushed through. All that mattered was getting to her faster. Even though she didn’t see it, it was just to contribute to the ruse. That’s all it was.

She jerked awake with a loud, sharp sob, her wings hitting the air. One knocked into him, but he let the blow glance off his shoulder as he knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands. “Aesira! It wasn’t real. Whatever they showed you wasn’t real. This is real. You’re here with me. Everything is going to be alright.”

Her hazy, tearful gaze focused on him, and she took a sharp, shuddering breath. Her palms were flat on the ground as she held herself up. Her wings stilled as she looked at him. She bit her lip as it trembled. And then she whispered, “Ulkos?”

His fake name struck his chest, ripping all the air from him.

Because it wasn’t his name.

Why did he want to hear her say his name like that?

He nodded, sweeping his thumbs across her cheek bones, the tears cutting through the layers of blood and grime that had accumulated over the weeks. He gently tugged on her face, before he reached one arm down to her waist, and used the other to cup her jaw and neck as he drew her to him. Her eyes darted around wildly, but she didn’t pull away. He pulled her into his arms, curling one arm around her waist and the other pulling her head to his chest. She reached for his dirty shirt. “How—how?”

Her eyes were still watery and spilling over. Her wings came in to tuck around her as a shield.

“What can I say? I was sick of only getting to touch your hands.”

Aesira’s eyes screwed shut and the noise that came out was something between a sob and a laugh. “That’s not an answer.”

“Turns out there was a damaged bar. I managed to work at it enough to break it.”

She dug her fingers into his shirt and wrapped her other arm around him, sinking into his grip. His heart jumped in his chest. It was only because of how incredibly inappropriate this was.

If he was ever caught in such a position with an elf, it would be the scandal of the year. He’d have no choice but to marry the girl. But the valkyries were a physical people, and if holding her in such an intimate fashion would scatter her armor and cement his place in her heart, it was worth it.

Besides, no one would ever know. His reputation wasn’t at any risk.

He whispered, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She turned her head into his chest and shook it. Her voice was muffled against his heart. “I want—I want—”

But whatever the rest of the sentence was disappeared as another sob fell from her lips. He just gathered her up even closer, pulling her as flush against him as he could and using his own body to try to still the trembling of hers. But the way her grip on his back tightened told him everything he needed to know. She hadn’t seen just the princess and her brother this time.

Aesira was his.

Veremund cursed Emmerich in his head.

The brat’s plan had worked. Soon enough, she’d be telling him everything he wanted to know. He pulled his cloak up and over them before pressing his lips to her forehead. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

A tiny whimper was stifled as Aesira nodded into his chest. He shifted his hand, skimming it over her wings before starting to rub soft, gentle circles across her lower back. Her wings were as soft as he’d thought they would be, even filthy.

He just needed a little more proof, just a little longer. Just because she’d seen him in magical torment didn’t mean she was ready to admit what he meant to her. Once she did, then he’d go for the information. Surely his father and Emmerich could wait that long, right?

* * *

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