Love of War (The Apocalypse Trials Book 1) by Salem Cross

Author:Salem Cross [Cross, Salem]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wet Ink Publishing House, LLC
Published: 2023-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Warren

How Lucifer and his people managed to create a cozy, spacious cabin built around this massive tree is beyond me. The sheer size and the weight of this place with no nails in sight, should make it impossible for this thing to be up here. I’ll probably give it a good thorough inspection once I’ve done what I need to do. But for now, I barrel over to the bed with my large sack sitting on top of it. Just like on the other three beds, there are towels, toiletries, and a leather bag waiting beside my stuff. I glance around the room, noting the three windows. Those could be a weakness of this place. My eyes sweep over the rest of the room. The other side houses a few dressers, a hanging rack, and a place for weapons.

I yank open the leather strap and dive in, pushing clothes and weapons aside until I come upon the object I’ve been looking for.

I snatch the small, hand-carved box that is no bigger than my palm and push my bag off my bed without regard for the contents. I only let go of my box to remove my leather shoulder armor, to kick off my boots. and remove my pants. My panties plop down on the wooden floor. They’re forgotten the moment they leave my hands as I grab the box, place it on my lap, and with shaking hands, I open the lid. There, nestled on a velvet cushion is my salvation.

The tremor in my hands grows harder as I fight back the madness screaming at me to descend into it. Tentatively, I reach for the shiny metal cilice. The moment it’s in my hand, I can breathe a little easier. But a little easier isn’t enough. I need to get myself under control. My pounding heart feels like it may burst and the sound of conversation from the handsome men on the first floor drifting up here is turning my insides into mush.

Quickly, I stand, turn around, and place my right leg up onto the mattress. Years of muscle memory kicks in and I slip the cool metal around my upper thigh. A shiver of anticipation cuts through the haze in my head. My fingers nimbly hook the two ends together until one longer rope remains, allowing me to tighten and loosen the beautiful steel with ease.

Immediately, I get to work. With a vicious yank, I pull the metal tight around my thigh. The bite of the hooks digging into my flesh is welcomed. My teeth smash together as I allow the pain to take over. Fifteen seconds later, I release it, giving myself a reprieve, albeit a short one. A moment later, I tug again. The pain flares up my leg and wars with the bloodlust riding me. This time, I hold onto the pain for an additional thirty seconds. Once the time is up, I relax my hold on the cilice. Several deep breaths later, I yank at the chain again.

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