Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Yum,” Alek mutters. “Just what I needed to see after breakfast.”
Instructor Volkov shoots a scowl at Alek before returning to the lesson. “This is known as one of the worst torture methods. As the rat claws and eats its way through the person’s intestines, the pain is excruciating. The fear of being eaten alive by rats should be enough to get the person talking before you have to resort to this.”
“And if they don’t talk?” I ask.
Instructor Volkov shrugs. “Then they die.”
We watch two other videos of rat torture, both gruesome.
Instructor Volkov’s eyes glance over the seven attendees, then he says, “If you find yourself in the position of captive and the enemy uses this technique on you, you should try to switch off. Always remember, if you talk, you’re dead anyway. As severe as the pain and terror is, everything comes to an end.”
“Loyal until death,” I whisper.
By the similar expressions on everyone’s faces, it’s clear we’re all thinking the same thing. Hopefully, we never have to use this method of torture or be subjected to it.
The screen goes dark then Instructor Volkov gives us all a creepy as fuck grin. “Tomorrow, the fun starts.”
“Fun?” Alek asks.
“You get to torture each other.”
Fuck.
I glance at Alek and Armani, then my eyes flick to the other four attendees.
“The sooner you get used to inflicting pain and ignoring the agonizing screams of your enemy, the better,” Instructor Volkov adds. “You can leave.”
We all get up, then he says, “Oh, I suggest you skip breakfast tomorrow morning.”
Walking out of the room, Alek looks at his hand, grumbling, “I just got a manicure. Whoever tortures me better not decide to pull my nails. The last time that happened, the fuckers took a year to grow back.”
“Initiation,” I chuckle. “I don’t miss it.”
“Me neither,” Armani comments, then he exhales loudly. “If you’re given a choice, what torture method are you willing to be subjected to?"
“None.” Alek lets out a burst of laughter. “I’m kind of attached to all my body parts.”
Just then, Aurora and Abbie come walking down the hallway, heading in our direction. They probably have a lesson to attend.
I’m looking at the torture method I’d like to avoid.
Armani glances at me, asking, “And you?”
Red blemishes on Aurora’s neck catch my eyes and keep them imprisoned.
Jesus. I did that to her.
Intense regret rears up in my chest.
“Misha,” Alek whisper-hisses when we’re in hearing distance of the girls.
My eyes lift to Aurora’s face, but she’s not looking at me. However, she seems pissed off as her eyes flick from Armani to Alek.
Nobody makes an effort to step out of the way, and I’m honestly surprised when Aurora passes by me, suddenly shoving hard at my shoulder with both her hands.
For a moment, I’m caught off guard and bump into Alek before catching my balance.
“Asshole,” she snaps, right before her palm burns across my face, the slap resounding in the air. “That’s for leaving marks on my neck.”
I’m still blinking when she continues to walk down the hallway, her head held high.
Armani lets out an incredulous bark of laughter while Alek watches everything with simmering anger.
Blyadʹ! Just what I fucking need today.
Knowing I can’t let her get away with slapping me in front of my friends, I set after her.
I grab her arm and almost yank her off her feet before I slam her against the wall. My body crowds hers, and her eyes meet mine, rage darkening her green irises.
“Let her go!” Abbie shouts as she comes at me.
Alek and Armani grab hold of Abbie, restraining her, and it leaves me to deal with Aurora, the little deer that’s too brave for her own good.
She lifts her chin, then taunts me, “What are you going to do, Misha? Choke me again?”
Christ, this woman!
My fist slams so hard into the wall I feel the skin over my knuckles split. With the blow inches from her head, she at least has the commonsense to flinch.
When I lean into her, fear creeps over her face.
My body crowds hers, creating an inferno of heat in me, my cock hardening from having her so close.
When my lips brush against her earlobe, I keep my voice controlled and deadly as I whisper, “Do you want to die, moy malen'kiy olen'?”
Instantly, I regret calling her my little deer. She’s not my anything.
Focusing on the job I have to get done, I bring my busted knuckles to her face and coat her cheek with my blood.
Pulling a little back, I stare at her pale face. “Crimson looks good on you.” Our eyes lock, and seeing she fears me fascinates and upsets me. “Next time, it will be your blood.”
I swipe my thumb through the blood on her cheek, and gripping her chin, I wipe it over her lips. “I can’t wait to taste yours.”