Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros

Author:Rebecca Yarros
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group

Drip. Drip. Drip. I lose track of the hours, the beatings, the questions I refuse to answer.

Nolon visits twice, or maybe it’s three times.

Life is varying degrees of pain, but Liam never leaves. He’s there every time I open my eyes, watching, talking me through the torture, holding my sanity together while simultaneously proving it’s already left.

At least once a day, they chain me into the chair and force the serum down my throat, blocking me from Tairn. I eat the food they provide because survival matters most, and I sleep after each mending session, only to wake and be broken again and again.

My ribs are cracked thanks to a well-placed kick, and my left arm snaps in the same exact place Varrish broke it the first time, which tells me that not only am I not at full strength, Nolon isn’t, either.

“We could bring in Jack Barlowe if this doesn’t work.” Nora’s voice rises, bringing me fully awake from where I’ve dozed off in the chair. “Gods know he’s been waiting for retribution.”

“Tempting,” Varrish replies. “I’m sure he’d be happy to find new and inventive ways to motivate her, but we can’t trust him not to kill her. Can’t trust that kid for anything, really, can we? Too unpredictable.”

“Still can’t believe that fucker survived,” Liam mutters from where he stands leaned against the wall to the right of the door.

Gods, I’m sore and swollen at the broken places, and discolored on the bits of skin I can see. Everything hurts. I’m not even sure I’m me anymore as much as I am pain encased in a failing body.

But Rhiannon isn’t being put through this, or Ridoc, or Sawyer, or Imogen, or Quinn. Everyone I care about is safe. That’s what I grasp onto.

“You know, Sloane hates me,” I whisper.

“Sloane can be tough.” Liam shoots me an apologetic half smile. “You’re doing a good job.”

“Yeah, I’m a great role model.” It’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes.

“You asked to see me, sir? Down here? There have to be a dozen guards in the stairwell.”

That voice. Fear slides down my spine, leaving chills in its wake as Liam’s head jerks toward the door.

Dain. I’m so fucked. We all are.

“I did,” Varrish responds. “I need your help. Navarre needs your help.”

“What can I do?”

I twist against the straps that hold me captive, but their buckles hold strong. “Stay calm,” Liam whispers, like any of them can hear him.

“We had a breach of security this week, and classified documents were stolen. We caught the perpetrator and prevented the loss of intelligence, but the prisoner...” There’s a dramatic pause. “It’s blatantly obvious by connection that this rider is working with what we suspect to be a second rebellion, intent on destroying Navarre. For the safety of every civilian within our wards, I need this prisoner’s memories, wingleader. You must extract the truth, or our very way of life will be compromised.”

Well, when he puts it that way. I pull against my bonds again, sending ricochets of agony through my nervous system.

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