Sin of Fury Read online

  Sin of Fury

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Sin of Fury

  A NOVEL BY

  Avery Duncan

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons,

  Living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2013 by Avery Duncan

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no

  part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form

  or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior

  written permission of the publisher.

  First Edition: November 2012

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned

  by the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Duncan, Avery

  Amethyst/ Avery Duncan

  p. cm.

  ISBN-13: 978-1481117531

  ISBN-10: 148111753X

  1. Paranormal—Fiction. 2. Creators—Fiction.

  3. Romance—Fiction.

  I. Duncan, Avery. II. Title.

  PS1234.A123G12 2012

  123’.12—ab12 2012123456

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  RRD-C

  Sin of Fury

  Avery Duncan

  Chapter 1

  Silence had become his lullaby. It was the soft call that brought him from the dead, that called to him and soothed him. With silence there was no pain. No past. No dreams. No cries of anguish or growls of rage. It was the one thing he accepted, and the one thing that accepted him. It was as precious as the sound of a feather falling through the wintry sky. So quiet and serene, it was the only thing he could take for himself.

  It was what Talon understood most — the only thing he understood. Besides the darkness, silence had become his friend and it seemed as if nothing else would take its place.

  The flutter of bats in the night, the rustle of leaves from dying trees, the frigid howl of the wind... It was all soothing, curing, but not as much as the silence. The comfort stayed with him through the darkest parts of the night, when not even a rat would dare scatter across the floor.

  Darkness wrapped around him, shrouded him in a cool blanket. He was trapped, taken, and tortured. To them, he was a monster. He deserved what he was dealt. Pleased smiles and bloodied hands were the only things he was given. No solitude, no mercy.

  The innocent light of the shimmering moon was the only thing allowing him to see his surroundings. The walls that caged him left him shivering. There was no reason for warmth — warmth meant sympathy, sympathy meant mercy, and mercy was something he wouldn’t be granted. It was a known fact by the two men who took their pleasures in torturing him.

  His arm stung, badly enough that he barely noticed his other wounds. Eyes, the color of melted silver took in his appearance. It was painful to see the shame that covered almost every inch of his body. The marks and abrasions on his skin felt more like brands than claw marks. With swift flicks of a wrist, the brand had been made and he had been claimed. His lip curled.

  Checking himself for worse injuries was useless, There was no way to speed up the healing process, and there was no tending to be done. It had been beaten into him that if he wanted to feel better, he might as well be similar to a dog and lick his wounds. He breathed in, ignoring the metallic smell of blood that sang through the air.

  The blood that splattered the wall was not just his own, but the remains of those who had been there before him. Talon couldn’t force himself to feel pity for them. He knew exactly what they had been through, but they had found a way out — either through death or escaping, it made no difference. He wished that he could have the same option.

  His head hung on his shoulders. The weakness within him was only worsening. The food they let him have was rarely edible, and the amount they gave him was just enough to keep him alive. He gained no strength, and if he did it was rapidly burned off.

  Once, he had stopped eating completely. Belief that starvation was his only way out, it had been shattering to realize that the lack of food wouldn’t kill him. He was still stuck in this hell house, still dealing with the bastard called Master, and still not finding a way to escape. How had the others done it? he asked himself, absently observing a spot of blood. It was small, had dropped from his arm, and now joined the millions of other droplets that formed a pool of pain.

  He saw his captors’ faces in the pool of blood, imagined his claws raking through their skin and torturing them. He wanted to give them exactly what they had given him, only tenfold. Talon’s eyes closed. His time there was wearing on him. His hand weakly moved, so much weaker than it had been before. He trembled with the effort.

  It caused something to awaken inside of him.

  A surge of power rushed through his body and he latched onto his arm with clawed nails. The pain radiating from it unleashed something dangerous. Recalling the conversations that they held over him, he knew that on some level it was the thing inside him that drew them to him.

  A snarl of disgust burst from his chest and he was ashamed of himself. Hate roiled through his chest. Lashing out, he hit the wall beside him. His roar echoed through his prison.

  He glanced at the wall across from him, the wall that held the window. The stone was cracked, indented. It was a blatant reminder that he had failed to escape. His roar turned into a cry of anguish. What they said was true.

  He was an animal, a beast. He was only here because they took pleasure in his cries.

  He clawed at his chest desperately. His bare hands latched onto the collar around his neck. By now, he was accustomed to the heavy weight of the metal ring and the pain it brought when Auro initiated it. He drew in a ragged breath, knowing that if he attempted to take the collar off it would only hurt him.

  Spasms would rack his body. Muscles so tense and stiff, he would crumple to the ground. It was excruciating, almost worse than what his torturers did to him. Almost.

  His hand dropped.

  From what he had heard, the only way the collar could be taken off was if someone other than himself unlatched it. His eyes closed, head falling back, his rage fading away. In the aftermath, he was broken. The possibility of anyone taking the collar off of him was slim. In the past months, Talon had only seen Auro and Lyne, and what he saw of them…

  He shuddered, wrapping his thin arms around himself.

  The door opened, a shaft of light entering the room, and his heart stopped. Talon raised his head high and stared defiantly at the shadowed man. The light from behind shrouded him in darkness, making him appear like the menacing son of a bitch he really was.

  Auro stood at the top of the steps, staring down at the beast. His dark form was hidden in the shadows, but he could clearly make out the rebellion that glowed in the monster’s silver eyes. Auro leered tauntingly at Talon, closed the door behind him, and sauntered forward.

  More like a dungeon, closer to a stone cage, the only source of light came from the window. The glow from outside had been snuffed out the second Auro locked them in the prison. The rusted bars left a pattern embossed on th
e dirty ground, the smell of the room was rank, almost acidic with the amount of blood that had been shed. Auro smiled wider, the stretch of his pale cracked lips more like a sneer than anything.

  Talon looked up, drawing farther into the shadows. The soft growl that rang through the room reminded Auro of a lion. He noticed that the beast was cradling his left arm. The blood flow from earlier had ceased its flow, leaving his arm dry and messy with thick strings of pus oozing from the long wound. Auro leaned closer, proud of his work.

  Talon moved back, eyes flashing. It was almost impossible to hide the tensing of his muscles. The action would tell Auro more than he needed to know, and Talon didn’t need any more wounds than he already had. He sneered against his arm, the cold stone chilling him to the bone as his back hit the wall. He looked at Auro from under his hair, taking in his expression in silence.

  “How are you faring today, my pet?” Auro asked, a bony hand reaching out to caress Talon’s damp head. The room was cold, almost as frosty as an ice box, but his arm was sending hot flashes throughout his body. Auro leered, his pale hand dropped to Talon’s arm. He dug his hand into the open flesh of the limb, earning a pained groan.

  Blood seeped down his arm with a renewed flow. Shots of ice and fire slid into him, dragged forth from the bastard that practically lived to torture him. He was so used to the pain now that it almost shocked him that he felt what Auro was doing to him. Of course, when a man with nails like needles shoved his hand inside of your arm and tore out anything it came in contact with, it was going to hurt like hell.

  Talon tried to hold back the groan, to hide how much it hurt him. But with Auro’s hand embedding itself into his skin, pushing muscle and flesh aside with sharp nails, it was a feat that he was not at all proud of. Rage boiled in his gut, the sound of pain turning into one of absolute anger.

  Auro drew his hand back, face twisted with disdain as Talon turned mute. No one would know, but Auro felt a fear deep within him when Talon was angry. He knew that Talon was more than close to killing him, the hate between them strong. Not for the first time, Auro was grateful for the collar that wound around the abomination's neck. It took everything Auro had not to beat him.

  “No answer?” he asked pleasantly. Talon’s teeth flashed in the dim light, the only answer that Auro got.

  Talon’s chest was tight. What would it be like, he thought, to attack Auro, to hear his cries of pain? He had been trapped in this dark room with nothing but a water bowl in the corner; action, or at least a chance to give into his fantasies, would be a godsend.

  If he had to shit or piss, he had to do it right there. If he was hungry, Auro only forced him to starve. If he was sick, Auro made the torture worse. The power the old bastard had over him was something that Talon was most ashamed of. From the first time several months before, when he had awoken to find Auro standing over him with his brother Lyne beside him, it had only registered a short time later that he was, in all honesty, fucked.

  Auro placed a long hand on the wall, the scrape of his nails grating on Talon’s nerves like they did on the stained stone. The chill shot through his teeth, painful.

  Talon held in the snarl that threatened to burst from him. Was it too much to ask for a moment of silent peace? Talon knew that it was a hope that was a dying hope, and wondered why it hadn’t yet perished. Lyne and Auro would not give him mercy, just as he would not when he finally gave them his revenge.

  “I would like to inform you of something,” Auro said casually, moving back from Talon. He stared at the ground as Auro’s frail voice carried over his skin like ice. “In several days’ time, a woman will be joining you.”

  The words left Talon feeling hollow. He stared at his arm, fighting the building fire in his chest. “When she arrives, I wish you to treat her as I have done you.” The implication wasn’t lost on Talon. Feeling his gut turn, he thought of the woman and what would become of her when she entered this torture place. His lip curled.

  “You might know her,” Auro said, eyebrows rising with his jaunty voice. “Might even have feelings for her, you will come to find.”

  His smile had Talon gagging. His chest did funny things as Auro continued. “I will require you to copulate, but take your time.” Talon knew he was sneering again, and refused to look up. “Once this is done, I will take the burden off of your shoulders.”

  Talon tried to understand what Auro meant, but couldn’t bring himself to care and stayed silent, still. While he waited for Auro to continue, he forced his breath to even. Bold, silvery eyes collided with crimson ones.

  He waited for the parting burst of pain — Auro was accustomed to listening to ragged groans when he left.

  There weren’t shards of pain, no needle-like nails digging into his skin — he swallowed down his mute shock and tensed.

  Soft scrapes of the door closing signaled Auro’s departure.

  Talon dropped his hand from his bleeding arm, staring. It hurt, he realized. His shoulders curled into their normal position as metallic eyes stared at the door.

  Turning his head toward the barred window, he tried to remember what he had done to be there. Talon had known the moment his eyes opened that Auro and Lyne would make his life hell—but he didn’t know what they were after.

  Why did they want him to take a woman? He didn’t know anything about her—couldn’t remember ever meeting a woman before in his life — wasn’t like he even remembered his life, though. What was so important about her? Talon held the sound that came from his chest back, already hating the fact that, yet again, his life was decided for him. Auro had a plan, and in all of the months that Talon had been there he had not found a way to rid himself of the bigots that liked watching him struggle.

  Auro knows about my past. The soft, rough curse came from lips unused to talking or responding to anyone. Talon had already known that much, but the extent to which the bastards had known was…angering. He felt his head turn away from the light, the freedom that was so close to him a cruel taunt.

  Talon was in the dark. Both literally and figuratively. He didn’t know what was going to happen with him, didn’t know why he needed to fuck some woman who was probably already puking at the prospect of taking in an animal like him.

  He didn’t care. It wasn’t like he would be able to stomach touching another being. Auro could take a spear and shove it for all Talon could care. He had no plans on doing anything to anyone besides giving Auro and Lyne a good one as soon as he got the chance.

  Talon thought about the day that Auro would die, when he would feel their blood and flesh sliding between his hands. He smiled, a bloodthirsty action that had once scared thousands into impaling themselves on his sword. He barely registered his own shocking recollection.

  Thoughts and memories slowly came back to him, and the frustration was only amplified when he couldn’t remember anything else. Was his loss of memory because of Auro? He felt that it was.

  Sick, Talon turned onto his side, away from the soft moonlight that served as the only source of illumination in the dank hole. His stomach turned, but not with fear or the need to vomit, as it normally did.

  No, it was the need to kill.

  Talon’s eyes closed, and for the first time in months he recalled what had happened months ago...

  The soft feel of hands trailed over his skin. He shivered, eyes opening slowly. His movements were weary, heavy because of his long sleep. The blaring light above his eyes made him wince and life came to him slowly.

  Voices spoke above him, yet he was too tired to register what they were saying. He could hear their voices, knew that something was wrong, but it was too hard to comprehend anything except that he was waking up and he wasn’t where he had been before.

  Where were the pale creamy hues, the leather couches? As his eyes adjusted, aimed away from the light, he saw stone walls and cobwebs. Rodents skittered in the background. Talon froze, realization slowly dawning on him.

  “You knew that this would happen,” a nasal voi
ce accused. A pointed finger came into his vision. He played dead, forcing his heart to stop thundering in his chest. His blood rushed to his ears as he listened, helpless to move and confused.

  He could feel eyes on his chest, knew he was being studied. Talon had to force himself to relax. “I didn’t!” another voice defended.

  “You did— I know it to be true,” the voice from before snarled.

  There was a hesitation, then a weary sigh and the sound of feet shuffling. If their eyes had not been on him, he would have seen what they were doing. It was hard, but he listened despite the drowsiness and confusion, absorbing their conversation, eyes closed.

  “Auro, please take a moment to understand what I’m trying to tell you!” The pleading voice was starting to sound familiar. Talon struggled to place it, but forgot about it when the second person spoke.

  “You have betrayed me, Lyne! You knew that the moment you took your hand to him, he would lose his memories, and his abilities would be locked. You’ve taken his power from me!” his hoarse shout rang throughout the room.

  He didn’t understand. Powers? The fuck… They need to get themselves on some meds, he thought distractedly, turning his wrist against the shackles. They lay cold against his skin, and he flicked his eyes, barely open, to look at them.

  His arm was covered in bruises and bite marks. Like something out of a horror movie, he immediately thought. For a moment, he actually thought that some creature of the night had bitten him. He almost snorted at the thought, but realized they were once again talking.

  “I do not care if he was the one to ruin your brainless romance. You were a fool to believe that he would give you the woman, and at the time I believed that you were over it. After Amentha died, I thought this would be over. But you had to go too far,” he accused. Talon felt a desperate urge to place the voice with the face, confused at what they were talking about.

  A woman? He almost rolled his eyes. A female wouldn’t make him give his life or even make him consider it. He tried to remember what he had done to be there, and the brief question of who Amentha was came to him. Talon grimaced; she sounded familiar.