Bleed: An MM Shifter Romance (Flesh and Bone Book 2) by Joel Abernathy

Author:Joel Abernathy [Abernathy, Joel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-06T18:30:00+00:00

Sixteen

Mason

Two Months Later

Being raised an Ursache, I had taken pride in the fact that basic training was nothing. While the recruits all around me were broken by the grueling training and sleepless nights, I remained sharp and strong, second only to Vasil. War was heaven, compared to what he’d been through, and now I knew why the worst of the battles we’d fought at each other’s sides hadn’t fazed him in the least.

Kostas was a fiendish little devil, but his brutality knew its limits, even if they were only the limits of his imagination. Dominic seemed calm on the surface, but he put the force of his obsession with Vasil into every blow. In a matter of hours, my body had been broken and my will was hanging by a thread.

It had been months, but neither of them seemed to tire of pushing me beyond my limits. Pain was a sport, and my body was their playing field.

Carving was Kostas’ fetish, but Dominic was an artist. He knew I would heal and he used that to his advantage. The red hot brand in his hand scraped along the tile as he dragged it over to me. I shuddered when he ran his fingers up my excoriated torso—not because of the pain, but because I had already been conditioned to respond to his touch with violent nausea. It always meant something awful, each “game” more terrible than the last.

The worst part wasn’t the physical suffering. It was the shame of weakness, of crumbling at the touch of a human I should have been able to kill or at least defend myself against. I turned my head, but he grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. It had grown out enough to be another weakness for him to exploit. Not that I was lacking in them. The heat made my eyes water as he raised the brand to my face.

“Such a beautiful face. So much nicer now that we’ve rid you of that terrible attitude.”

His thumb swept over my bottom lip, along the faint scars from the stitches Kostas had sewn into them the last time I’d dared to mouth off. They’d stayed there for a week, and I think the only reason they’d bothered to cut them loose at all was the fact that the starvation was beginning to make me heal slower. I wasn’t half as much fun if I couldn’t endure a superhuman amount of torment in the span of an evening.

The urge to bite down on his flesh was overpowering, so I stopped breathing and kept my eyes on Dominic’s. He hated that I dared to meet them at all, but it was the last bit of defiance I was able to offer and sometimes I was sure that was the only reason he was keeping me alive at all.

That and I made a decent lab rat. I had learned over the last couple of months what he meant by “curing” Kostas. Bloodletting as a medical treatment

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