— LUCA —
White.
Everything was white.
My jaw clenched before the pain even hit.
The tool slid beneath my arm—smooth at first, then serrated.
It scraped something inside me. Something no one should ever touch.
My eyes widened.
But I didn't scream.
I wouldn't give them that.
A breath escaped—sharp. A whimper, maybe. But not a scream.
I was saving that.
For Cass.
Because if I screamed now… he'd hear it.
And he didn't deserve to carry that.
Am I going to die?
Not from cancer. Not from a car crash.
But like this? Tortured by strangers I've never seen until today?
I tried thinking—anything—to stay ahead of the pain.
I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, just to remind myself I was still in control.
Khatm didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
He moved like a surgeon.
Or a butcher.
No fury. No hate.
Just precision.
The second hook went in beneath my collarbone.
Not deep enough to kill—just enough to shift something under the surface.
I felt nerves twitch. Bones tremble.
It wasn't just pain anymore.
It was remapping who I was.
My legs kicked. The leather held.
Another breath. No scream. I still had that.
Cassian… stay back. Don't watch.
Then something cold pressed against my chest.
And for the first time—I saw him.
Not really. Just a memory. But clearer than the room around me.
We were on that hilltop. The one he pretended not to like.
He stared into the sunrise like it owed him an answer.
"You ever think things get better?" I had asked.
He didn't smile. Didn't lie.
"Only when they get worse first."
Well… they're worse now, Cass. You were right.
The cold dug deeper. My body spasmed.
Khatm carved something over my chest with the blade—
Deliberate. Ritualistic.
I couldn't see it, but I could feel the shape:
A circle.
A vertical slash.
Then another, crossing it.
A symbol.
A brand.
I didn't know if it meant I'd live or die.
But I knew what it meant.
I belonged to someone now.
"Do you believe in love?" Qassi asked, not expecting an answer.
"Love is such a primal, distasteful emotion. And yet… it still amuses me. For most people, it's the only thing that matters."
He monologued without looking at me—like he knew what I felt.
"Well… do you love that Stillkin?"
He smiled beneath his words.
"If you do, you'd better not tear. Or scream. Or sleep. Every weakness will bleed into him."
My chest tightened.
I can't let that happen.
Cass doesn't deserve this.
He's already been through enough.
I have to endure for him.
For my brother.
The tall one moved again. Khatm.
He pulled something from beneath his robe—garden shears.
I didn't need imagination.
I already knew what was coming.
I could already feel it.
"Please, Luca! Let me feel the pain! You don't deserve this—please!"
Cassian's voice tore through the wall. Through me.
I wanted to tell him to stop. To run.
But all I could do was think:
I'm sorry, Cass. Don't watch. Please don't watch. You've seen enough.
The shears hovered over my hand.
Blades cool against my finger. Waiting. Teasing.
"Just get it over with already!" I snapped.
Snap.
The blades closed. Precise. Instant.
It felt like snapping a carrot in half—if it had nerves, blood, and a voice.
I bit down on my tongue.
Hard.
Trying to hold it in.
Thrashing. Useless.
The leather didn't budge.
A tear burned in my eye.
Don't let him feel it. Don't let Cassian feel this.
The pain throbbed—radiated through my entire arm.
I could pass out.
I might pass out.
No. No, think. Think of Cass. He'd do the same for me.
He always would.
I always wanted to be like him.
He was the older brother I never had.
And today, I get to be his.
He kept cutting.
Finger by finger.
I felt every one.
Each chop worse than the last.
He only worked on one hand. That was all it took.
Then the shears moved toward my ear.
And I already knew.
No plea, no scream, no mercy would stop it.
No one was coming.
This wasn't like the novels I read.
There would be no happy ending.
Snap.
My ear was gone.
It was worse than anything that came before.
Excruciating.
I bit down on my tongue—more complex than before.
Tasting my blood was the only relief I had left.
Time stopped meaning anything.
Every tool.
Every cut.
They just kept coming.
The pain didn't fade.
I just stopped reacting to it.
My body felt like it was floating, or sinking. Maybe both.
The straps were still tight, but I barely noticed them now.
I couldn't feel my legs.
Couldn't see straight.
But I could still feel Cassian.
His presence flickered like a warm light somewhere far away.
He was still fighting.
Still screaming.
Still hurting.
And I couldn't stop it anymore.
This may be okay.
Maybe it's better this way.
Maybe…
Maybe he'll finally find the peace he deserves.