10. No More Mercy

I walked to the foot of the bed. She didn’ t even flinch when my shadow fell across her. Up close, the smell of her blood was more stronger, mixed with her sweat and the fading trace of whatever perfume had once clung to that ruined dress she was wearing.

Something in my chest… the Veilbrand pulsed, accompanied with a brief hot sensation. It was unfamiliar and quick, but for now, I ignored it.

I reached down and untied the last cord around her ankle. The skin around her ankle was red and bruised.

“This is the last mercy I’ll give you,” I said. My voice stayed even. “You will answer my questions carefully. If I decide you dare to lie , or you prove you're more useful dead than alive, I will grant the death you asked for, slowly.”

After her loosened the rest of the cord, she pushed herself a little higher against the headboard, even though the movement clearly hurt. Instead of looking away, she leaned forward slightly, pushing my gaze.

“I asked a question first. Are you another one of his dogs? Or did he hire you from outside? What did Nikolai offer you to hand me back?” she asked the old topic.

The name again.

Nikolai.

She had said it like it should mean something. Like it should open doors or end conversations. Every time it left her mouth, there was the same mix of hatred and fear under the words.

I stayed silent for a moment. Her eyes narrowed slightly, searching my face for recognition that never came. That seemed to unsettle her more than anything else I had done.

“You…” She stopped, confusion flickering across her expression as she studied me harder. “You don’t know who he is.”

The distance between us slimmed as I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees.

“No,” I said. “I don’t, so enlighten me. Who is Nikolai?”

She stared at me as if I had just spoken a language she didn’t understand. For the first time, the strong defiance in her expression cracked into something closer to genuine disbelief.

“Nikolai De Luca. He runs half the underworld from the capital to the southern ports. Every dog on the street knows that name."

“I don’t involve myself in human underworld affairs,” I said. “His name means nothing here.”

Her eyes narrowed. She still looked convinced I was lying.

“Then why am I here?” she asked. “If he didn’t send you, why bother keeping me alive?”

“You were dying in my territory,” I replied. “Leaving you would have been the same as killing you. I’m still deciding whether that would have been the better choice.”

She let out a weak, humorless sound, pulling back.“How generous.”

“I’m not interested in generosity.” My voice stayed calm. “I’m interested in answers. You were running through a forest most people can’t even find, with a pistol in your hand. That doesn’t happen by accident.”

She shifted against the headboard and and winced when the movement pulled at her thigh. Blood had started to dry in a dark trail down her leg. She still didn’t look away from me.

“I was escaping,” she said finally.

“From what?”

“A wedding… Hell.” Her jaw tightened. “And from him. Nikolai.”

" You look half dead. And you still managed to get a gun on me the moment you woke up.” My eyes moved briefly to her red wrists, then back to her face." You have the skill of a trained assasin.”

She hesitated before talking. The light in her eyes dimmed slightly. “What do you expect from a killer’s daughter?” she said. “I had to live up to the name.”

I let her words settle between us for a moment before I spoke.

“So let me make sure I understand. You were escaping a wedding. You somehow found your way into a forest most trained trackers can’t navigate, ended up in the middle of a rogue hunt, and now you expect me to believe this was all just unfortunate timing.” My eyes stayed on hers. “That’s a lot of coincidence for one night.”

Her expression tightened. “I’m not asking you to believe anything,” she said. “You asked what happened.”

“Well your story that doesn’t hold,” I replied. “People don’t wander into this forest by accident and land exactly where a group of rogues were already waiting.” I tilted my head slightly. “Unless they were meant to be there.”

Her breathing changed. Frustration flashed across her face.

“So, you think I planned this?” she said. “You think I tore myself up, nearly got killed, and let myself get dragged here on purpose?”

“ Probably.” My voice didn’t rise. “And I think if you keep doing that, I won’t need Kael’s methods to get the rest. Pain has a way of loosening memory." My gaze dropped to her hand ”Five broken fingers, some salts on the open wounds, and electrocution. There are cleaner ways, but they take longer. And I’m very patient.”

I reached for the leather roll on the table and unrolled it slowly.

Metal gleamed under the light, pliers, thin blades, a small hammer, thick needles, a short length of wire. I picked up the pliers, turned them once in my hand, then leaned forward and let the cold metal rest lightly against the side of her neck, just below her jaw.

“ I'll ask you once more” I said, "Choose your answer carefully. Who sent the wolves you were with?”

The words settled between us. But fear didn't sit for once on her face, her expression held something harder underneath. Anger? Frustration?. She looked as though someone who had sat across from threats before.

“You’re insane,” she said, voice shaking with anger now. “ Do you even listen to yourself? You're accusing me of working with… wolves? How does that even make sense? What, I arranged for wild animals to almost kill me just so I could end up tied to your bed?”

She was breathing harder now, the frustration spilling over.

“Look, I don't know who you are. I don't know what kind of messed up idea you have going through your head, and I don't care. Just let me go.”

The patience I had been holding frayed. Something in me sudden tightened.

Bullshit. I've let her make enough full of me.

“Fine,” I said. “Since you don’t understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.”

I tilted the sharp edge of the pliers a bit into the skin just below her jaw. A thin line of blood welled up instantly. She gritted her teeth hard, a rough sound catching in her throat as her body jerked against the pain.

I leaned closer.

“Is it Ralph?” My voice had lost its evenness. “Marcus? Who sent them?”

Ralph wanted my head the most, since he believed I was the reason his daughter died.

She refused to answer, only that same stubborn glare through the pain.

The last of my restraint snapped.

I stood and grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. A groan was forced out of her mouth as I forced her neck upward. I pressed the pliers harder against the cut, the metal slipping slightly in the fresh blood.

“Open your mouth and talk,” I said, low and harsh. “And it had better be the right answer this time.”

Her breathing was uneven, tears pooled in her eyes with pain, but the defiance was still there, weakened but not broken.

“I don’t have the answer you’re looking for,” she forced out quietly, her voice strained. She glared up at me even as her strength visibly drained. “If you’re going to do it… then do it. Stop talking.”

“Just get it over with. Maybe I’ll finally get to see my grandmother again. And I want to, so do it.”

The words struck harder than they should have. Her head grew became heavy in my grip, the tension in her body loosening all too quickly.

Then her eyes fluttered shut.

Her body went limp, her head sank against my hand before I could adjust my hold, and she collapsed fully onto the bed, unconscious.

I scoffed but the expression quickly wiped from my face as the Veilbrand suddenly grew unbearably hot.