Page 217 of Psycho Gods

Aran

TWISTED BONDS

Oneiromancy (noun): divination by means of.

DAY 28, HOUR 6

I was trapped in the most insidious of nightmares—memories.

Three guards dragged me down the gilded halls toward the ornate cellar. Mother waited, tapping her foot with a frown on her face. I was fourteen years old, and we’d been playing this game for years.

You would think she’d have grown bored with it by now. Apparently, torturing your daughter never lost its appeal.

Mother’s blue eyes widened with excitement as the guards threw me to the ground. Knees and elbows smacked painfully against hard marble. I bit down on my lower lip and said nothing.

Lay still.

There were a few rules I’d learned during these nights.

If you were quiet, the torture didn’t last as long. If you acted repentant and weak, the torture didn’t last as long. If you bowed your head respectfully, the torture didn’t last as long.

The golden rule, never cry.

If I cried, then she’d light me on fire until dawn.

As a result, my eyes were perpetually bone dry, my heart was a shriveled hole inside my chest, and blue was my least favorite color.

My breath was unnaturally loud in my ears as dozens of guards watched from the perimeter of the room. They no longer stood in a small circle around me. They lined the large space and watched with blasé expressions.

A demoralizing tactic Mother loved to use.

She filled a room with guards to make it clear that I could never escape. You were outnumbered and trapped. It also added an element of shame that heightened the experience.

Mother was mad, but she was a great strategist.

Her voice echoed off the ornate walls as she said, “Your tutors have informed me that you glare and whisper petulantly under your breath. Have you forgotten your obedience lessons, daughter? A pathetic weakling like you has no right to address her betters—if you’d bother to show a little initiative and develop abilities, your behavior would be acceptable.” She shook her head. “The things I could do at your age. You can’t even imagine.”

Her condescending smile widened as she crouched down next to me.

White teeth gleamed.

The fine details of her eyelashes and pores of her skin came into focus as she leaned close.

A distant part of me knew this was a dream.

But it felt so real.

She crouched before me.

Her red lips pursed like she was sad, and she ran freezing fingers across my forehead, then she smiled.

The world exploded in blue flames.

For a split second, my senses were so overloaded with pain signals that I felt nothing.

Cobalt fire danced across my skin.

It was almost beautiful.