Forged In Fire (Witch World Series Book 2) by Lyn C. Johanson

Author:Lyn C. Johanson [Johanson, Lyn C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyn C. Johanson
Published: 2016-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

After Kaden cloaked Desiree, they grabbed all their things and left her domain. Apparently she had a secret portal somewhere on this island that could transport them straight to Zcuran.

“Isn’t this risky?” he asked, disliking the idea. The whole reason for cloaking was to escape undetected, not to be traipsing around the demon village. If anyone saw her … cloak or no cloak, they would be screwed. She was invisible only to their senses, not their eyes.

“Without powers, it’s the only way to get off this island.” She didn’t slow her pace, or glance his way. She kept walking forward, unperturbed by the fact that the tunnel they were in was darker than the bats’ cave. “And it’s not like we’ll pop up in the middle of the square. V’s home is safe—it’s on the outskirts of the town, and he’ll help us.”

“Who is this V?” Ciaran wanted to know. He wasn’t thrilled to find out that someone else would know about their escape.

“Patience,” was all she said before fastening her pace.

“You trust him?” Ciaran kept up with her crazy jogging speed, wondering if she was trying to create a distance between them, or simply to break a leg.

“He’s the only one I trust.” Her words cut him to the quick, forcing his legs to a halt.

For an endless moment he stood frozen in place, in the dark, until the pain-drenched sounds brought him back to reality. The sounds merged with other noises—noises his ears registered, but his brain refused to digest. All it knew was—she hadn’t waited for him.

He turned the corner, saw light at the far end of the tunnel, and the closer he walked to the opening, the louder the noises became.

“Don’t tell me you got lost?” Desiree smirked, pushing herself off the rock when he finally emerged into the open space.

“Is this what I think it is?” he asked, ignoring the sarcasm in her voice. His eyes snapped from one set of chains to another, from one naked body to another. He’d heard of this place, of course. Who hadn’t? But the reality was far worse than anything he could have imagined.

“Yes,” she nodded, not sparing the sadistic orgies a single glance. Instead, her gaze was riveted on him, as if he was the only person in the room.

He looked around slowly, scanning the area, this time taking in every last detail. The light bounced off the walls and floor, as if the smoothened surfaces were mirrors reflecting a shining ball. It created a nearly blinding glare. And yet, he didn’t see a single light source to explain this … whiteness.

At least now he knew why this was called the White Room. Yet why they said this was the place pleasure slaves were taught escaped him. It was nothing but contraptions and blood—both crusted and fresh. Although one had to really look to notice it against the blinding white.

It was a torture chamber.

“Find something you like?”

Ciaran turned, his gaze landed on Desiree, and he nodded. “I did, actually.

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