Tasting Darkness

Read Taming Darkness By Jessica Hall Book 3 Chapter 22 – Aleera

I was shoved into the facility and stumbled forward a few steps. I used the slack to yank out of their clutches. I couldn’t stand the sensation of their hands touching me. Weren’t the cuffs enough? I couldn’t use my magic yet, nor could I call for help.

One of the men grabbed my shoulder in a vice grip, his hold tightening around my upper arms. Did they fear me because of the damage I had done to their fellow minions in the battle? It was smart, but they acted as if I would break free with the little strength left in me.

I wouldn’t have fought back even if I did have some way of doing so. Not when I desperately wanted to know what that vile woman had planned. She’d disclosed just a few tidbits so far, nothing that would give me a means of shutting her and her power hunters down for good. I needed more evidence, and I needed to see it with my own eyes.

Besides, right now she was exactly where I wanted her, with all the false bravado to match. I wouldn’t risk breaking my cover or spilling any of my own secrets. I needed her to think I was broken, that she was the one in control, that she had triumphed over her weak malleable daughter. She had to believe that she could take me off the board at any moment, if she wanted to bother herself to, that was.

The grip on me didn’t loosen in the slightest, if anything, their fingers dug deeper, like they wanted to cause me pain. They dragged me after her as she strode ahead of us, leading the way with her head held high, as if she was true royalty. She believed herself to be a Queen, but I understood she was nothing by a tyrant.

her neck. No, that wouldn’t be enough torture for this bitch. I wanted her to truly suffer with every breath that left her body. I

memories? Would she actually stoop low enough to try to make this place look like home to fuck with me? I wouldn’t put it past her, but the question was would it be worth her time

see this place again, and all those warnings that had been pressed upon me in childhood came roaring back. The

me from the moment I could crawl. It was where my father spent most of his time, and it was strictly off-limits. I didn’t have many rules growing up, despite who my parents are now, my childhood wasn’t traumatic. But the basement for some reason always instilled fear in

hesitation because she giggled and a

hear something funny?”

run, I didn’t want to go near that door, but their tight grip on my hands wouldn’t allow me to move. I bit my lip to stay silent. My skin would be mottled with bruises from their disgusting hands, but despite the pain, I

I sneered beneath my

hip, she tilted her head as she gestured her free hand to the door. I hated this place and