Unbroken 2

Sixteen

Present

Skye

He had asked me where Hunter was. I looked into his eyes and saw darkness. I saw an animal trapped in the flesh of a man. An animal that might claw its way out of his body and destroy everything in sight should it want to.

I did not see Hunter.

And now I’m more lost than ever.

“They’re coming back,” says the man that lingers at my side, staring warily at Savage. “They’ve run you a bath, and they’ll want you to clean up before you both go.”

But Savage doesn’t make a move. His eyes are trained on mine as I ask, “Where are we going?”

Savage turns away from me, growling, “They want a show. I never give them one.”

“Well, if you want her, you’ll have to,” the man cuts in now. “They discard every single woman they’ve thrown your way because you don’t perform.”

“And if Iperform, what do you think happens to her then?” Savage retorts, turning his seething glare at the man he calls Jojo.

Jojo frowns. “She becomes a Golden Bird.”

“Exactly.”

I feel confused, shaking my head. “What is that?”

But they don’t answer.

I see movement in my peripheral and freeze, taken aback by two more figures emerging from one of the rooms. These men are dressed the same as Jojo: a thin tunic and brown thin pants. They’re huge, too. Almost the same stature as Savage, but not quite. One is marred with cuts and bruises, his face black and blue from an intense beating, like he too had just fought. There are bandages running down his tattooed arms and one around his neck just over a mutilated tattoo of an Owl. He’s a young man, but his eyes, grey and empty, make him look older.

The other man is equally big, but he’s older, his dark hair sprinkled with white. He doesn’t have bruises, but he has scars that are big and jagged, running down his neck and disappearing under his tunic. His eyes are kinder, like he’s not possessed by a dark entity. He looks at me, asking Savage, “Who is she?”

“Skye,” Savage answers simply.

A knowing look passes over the two men. Jojo frowns. “Can someone explain?”

But the kinder one ignores him. “Have they brought her to torture you?”

Savage is pacing again. “She brought herself.”

“Is that true?”

My lips twist. “Yes.”

“But they brought her to me.” Savage stops, his dark eyes back on mine, and he’s so angry. “Did you wake up in a cage?”

“I woke up in a room.”

“Were you alone?” the kinder man asks.

I shake my head. “I was with two other women.”

“Cattle,” the bruised one says. “She was supposed to be taken to a harem, not to you as a trophy.”

Savage is tense, his body tightening as he says, “Did someone help you get here?”

I nod. “I got help from—”