Chapter 41

Raphael

We trod through that forest, the sky still raining watery curses for what we had done. For what I had done...

Suddenly I froze. "Wait!" I said suddenly. The brothers halted, casting confused looks in my direction.

Knox was the first to realize this.

We heard her. We felt her.

But it was impossible, she was gone, she had fallen down the cliff. No person would be able to survive the fall. If the impact in the high current river did not kill her, the current would have torn her apart. She would have drowned, or the jagged rocks would have turned her insides to mush.

But I could hear her whispers, faint pleading, her voice filled with pain, echoing through the depths of my consciousness. Who was she begging? Who was she begging to stop?

The implication was clear because the dead could not plead, nor feel pain. Lucianne was alive.

It wasn't just a figment of my imagination or a cruel trick of my mind. She was out there, somewhere, suffering. I could feel her agony, each wave of torment crashing into me as though it was my pain and not hers.

"She's alive," Knox growled within me, stirring, trying to find the remaining traces of her, like a bloodhound.

Closing my eyes, I focused on the mate bond that we shared, allowing the connection to guide me. Her essence, her aura, pulsed like a faint, weak light in the darkness, calling out to me. I could feel it in my bones, I could taste her on my tongue. Knox's instincts sharpened, honing in on her faint presence that lingered in the air. Even the rain did nothing to mask her scent. When our kind dies, they leave no scent behind, but Lucianne's remains.

"Raphael," Lance proceeded toward me. "Don't try looking for her. She is gone; there was no way she survived that fall." He clasped my shoulder, and his hand was shaking, whether from the loss of his sister or from the cold, I could not tell.

"She is alive," I revealed. "Lance, she is alive,"

Logan ran toward me, almost slipping in the process. When he reached me, there was hope and fear in his gaze. "You sensed her?" he asked, filled with trepidation. "But the cliff,"

"She is alive," I repeated just as I caught a particularly potent aura from her. I had a clue, I had a path.

Without waiting for Logan and Lance to respond, I turned to Knox. In a flash, I let the wolf take over, my body reshaping, bones snapping and reforming as fur sprouted across my skin. The transformation was swift, driven by an urgency that left no room for pain or hesitation.

I bolted into the woods, Knox's powerful legs carrying us faster than ever before. The rain was a blur, the trees mere streaks of green and brown as we raced past them. My heart thundered in my chest as if it would explode.

Branches whipped against my fur, but I barely felt them. My senses were honed to a razor's edge, every part of me attuned to the faint trail Lucianne had left behind. The scent of her pain, the whispers of her presence—it fueled a primal fury within me.

I was a feral beast, a relentless hunter whose only mission was to find Lucianne and tear apart the bastard who dared to harm her. Nothing would stop me, not the wild terrain, not the storm, nor the doubts that I was just losing my mind from grief.

Lucianne was alive. And I would find her.

****

My heart pounded in my chest as he drew closer, the gleaming scalpel in his hand. The men held me tightly, their grips bruising my arms as they forced me to remain kneeling. I tried to pull away, but it was futile.

Reiner stopped in front of me, tilting his head as if admiring a piece of art. "Your father always said you had your mother's spirit," he murmured. "Let's see if it's true."

The first cut was shallow, a mere scratch along my cheek, but it stung nonetheless. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, tasting blood. His eyes sparkled with delight at my defiance.

"Good," he said softly. "Very good. But this is only the beginning."

He continued to cut, each slice deeper than the last. The pain was unbearable, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I focused on the faces of my loved ones—my father, my brothers, and Raphael. I drew strength from the thought of them, knowing they would come for me.

Reiner's voice broke through my thoughts. "Do you know what the most beautiful sound in the world is, princess? The sound of hope breaking."

He plunged the scalpel deeper, and this time, a scream tore from my throat. The men laughed, and Reiner's smile widened.

"That's it," he cooed. "Scream for me."

Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the blood. I could feel my body healing, but the pain was relentless. Reiner was right—the cycle of torment was endless.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Stop."

His expression softened, almost tenderly. "Oh, Lucianne, it's too late for mercy."

He gestured to his men, and they forced me to stand. My legs were weak, barely able to support my weight. Reiner circled me, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

"You will break," he promised. "Everyone does eventually."

I shook my head, my vision blurred with tears. "Never."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "We shall see, princess. We shall see."

One of the men stepped forward, holding a branding iron. My heart raced as I realized what they intended to do. The iron was glowing red-hot, and I could feel the heat radiating from it even from a distance.

"No," I pleaded, struggling against my captors. "Please, no."

Reiner's smile was cold and merciless. "This will mark you as mine," he said. "A reminder of who you belong to."

The iron pressed against my skin, and I screamed as the searing pain consumed me. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and I felt my consciousness slipping away. Yet my body mended itself again.

"Let's try something a bit more... engaging," he said, his voice laced with sadistic anticipation.

He clamped the tongs onto my forearm, pressing cruelly until the metal bit into my flesh. I couldn't stifle the scream that tore from my lips, the sound raw and piercing in the cold air of the chamber. Reiner’s laughter echoed around us, a dark and chilling sound.

But he wasn't done. After the tongs, he reached for a large, rusted needle. With meticulous cruelty, he drove it slowly through my shoulder, relishing the muffled sobs that I couldn't hold back. Each movement was deliberate, designed to inflict maximum pain.

My body healed each wound rapidly, the gift of spontaneous regeneration a curse in this unending torment. No sooner would one wound close than Reiner would inflict another, each more painful than the last.

As he picked up a scalpel again, he leaned close, his breath foul against my face. "Does it hurt, Lucianne? Each cut, each puncture—your body heals, but how is your spirit holding up?"

I gritted my teeth, glaring at him through tears of pain and rage. "You won't break me," I whispered, the words barely audible.

Reiner chuckled darkly and switched to a new tool—a hammer with a pointed end. He positioned it above my knee, his eyes gleaming with malice. "We'll see how long that defiance lasts."

The hammer came down, and white-hot pain exploded through my leg. I couldn’t suppress the cry that erupted from my throat, the sound desperate and filled with agony. He repeated the action, again and again, each strike a hammer blow to my resolve.

Yet, even as my body repaired itself, the psychological torment built up. Each cycle of pain followed by healing became a blur of agony, fear, and a desperate clinging to sanity. Reiner’s twisted face, his sadistic smile, became the monster in my nightmares.

"You’re quite the spectacle," he taunted, pausing to wipe sweat from his brow. "An endless cycle of destruction and renewal. Fascinating."

Nova was howling in pain, she was exerting herself to keep me alive. She could not even speak, she was fading and fading fast.