Chapter 15
Kara lifted her head and moaned. She felt heavy, as if there was a gym’s worth of weight strapped around her neck. Her knees sagged. Why am I standing? The last thing she remembered was finally losing the battle to stay awake and crashing with Brock holding her. Forcing her eyes open, she fought through the haze and blinked, willing her vison to clear. She tried to lift her hand to rub the sleep from her eyes, but it was stuck. She pulled harder and groaned when it was a no go.
Her head dropped again, startling her awake. What the hell is going on? Slowly the fog lifted, and her lungs seized at what she saw. Chains. Not just any chains, but the ones used to bind Fenrir. They were wrapped around her naked body. She winced as a million pins and needles stabbed at her shoulders and upper back. Lifting her head slowly she looked up to find her hands shackled and suspended over a hook. She assumed it was attached to the ceiling, not that she could see it through the pitch black above her. Her body swayed at her movement, her bare toes barely touching to scrape over the point of cold obsidian she’d been balanced on and cut into her skin. Don’t panic, she told herself, not exactly sure what else to do.
Hard soles sounded through the darkness, moving closer and the faint murmur of voices grew louder. Kara forced herself to go limp, drop her head and close her eyes. If they were coming for her, then she’d learn more if they thought she was still out. Concentrating, she slowed her breathing and pounding heart as she waited.
“I didn’t think you could deliver,” a voice said from nearby and Kara had to struggle not to crack her eyes.
“It wasn’t easy. You wouldn’t believe what I had to do. I feel so dirty.” The growl and chuckle were painfully familiar. “Stop playing possum, Cher. We know you’re awake.”
Kara sighed and swallowed a heartbroken sob, lifting her head to confirm what her ears and her heart told her.
Brock stood before her, smirking as he brushed the hair back from her face, gently. “Though it wasn’t all bad. Was it, Cher?”
She pulled her face away from his touch. “Why?”
“Did you really think you could get away with your bullshit forever, Kara? Using me when you wanted and then moving on to whoever was next on your list?” He arched a brow. “My own brothers? Did you really think I was pathetic enough to take that?” He snorted. “Of course, you did. After all you’re the goddess and I’m just a bear, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kara whispered, flinching away from the hatred in his cold blue eyes. “Brock, please.”
“I told you she’d play innocent once her powers were stripped.”
Kara’s eyes darted to the other voice. She’d forgotten that they weren’t alone. Bart. Of course, it was Bart. “I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Bart growled into her face, shoving his fist against her chest.
She gasped, feeing her sternum crack under the bear’s hit, and knocking the air out of her. She fought to breath as the pain lanced through her chest, Kara watched the bears. She was screwed. Wrapped in Fenrir’s chains she was no more than a human that was good with a sword and with her hands bound, she was completely defenseless.
Brock grabbed Bart by the back of the neck and pulled him back, before shoving him away from her. “Take it easy on her. She’s human now, remember?” Reaching out he caught her swinging hips between his palms and eased her to a stop.
Kara looked up at him hopefully. Maybe this was all just a bad joke and it was over. The smirk on Brock’s face sad different. Fuck.
“Did you bring it?” Brock asked without looking away from her.
“I said I would,” Bart grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Brock held his hand out, his eyes locked with hers.
She went cold, when she saw what was slapped into his hand. Her dagger. The first that Odin had given her. She sighed as every reason she had to fight died. Meating Brock’s eyes, she lifted her chin defiantly. “Just fucking do it. I don’t care.”
“I learned that a long time ago, Cher,” he growled as he dragged the blade over the skin over her navel. “But you have something of mine and it’s about time I get it back.”
Bart snorted and crossed one arm over his chest as his thumb rubbed his smirking lips. “You screwed with the wrong brothers.”
Kara had no idea what they were talking about. They’d both last their minds. She tracked the blade’s progress up the gap of her lower ribs and then between her breasts to rest against her throat, feeling the warm dripping of her blood as it cut into her skin. “What are you waiting for?” she asked when Brock stopped and stared at her. “I don’t beg so do what you’re going to do. We both know I’ve got no juice. You win, Babes.”
“Not true, Cher. You beg just fine when you use me as a toy to sate your needs, don’t you?” He tilted his head to the side. “Doesn’t she, Bart?”
“Oh, please! Fuck me harder,” Bart mimicked in a high-pitched voice and laughed.
“Like I’d lower myself to fuck you,” she sneered at Bart over Brock’s shoulder, wincing when Brock’s fingers caught her jaw and squeezed it painfully.
“Don’t lie, Cher. You know you made me watch because it got you off.”
Kara gaped at him. She opened her mouth to deny it, but she could see how strongly he believed it in the hate that filled his sapphire eyes. He wasn’t going to listen to her. The only option she saw was to try to make him mad enough to kill her quick. “I guess it wasn’t that memorable.” She smiled tightly.
Brock leaned closer and growled against her ear. “I could have forgiven almost anything, Cher, but not that.” He twisted he jaw away from him inserted the point of her blade into her neck. “Hold her,” he snarled.
Kara clamped her jaw shut so as not to cry out at the stab of pain from the blade as Bart, pulled her back against him, using her breasts as handholds. She wanted to puke, and she wanted this over. “What’s the matter? Can’t get it up without your brother’s help? You really are fucking pathetic, aren’t you?”
Brock growled and cut off a piece of her skin, holding it up so she could see the dark mark that marked her as his ingolf clutched in his fingers. “Maybe I am, Cher, but you’re not taking this with you to hell,” he snarled and stabbed her in the chest, stepping away and spitting on her.
Kara’s eyes widened as the blade slid through her chest. Her heart kicked, pumped and stopped as the blood poured through the hole. Darkness fell over her, and she began to fall. Brock’s voice was the last thing she heard.
“We’re done here.”
Gasping, Kara struggled through a mountain of fur and sat bolt upright in bed. She couldn’t breath and her hands went to her chest, blinking in disbelief when they came away clean. Her breath sawed in and out of her mouth as she panted and her eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out where she was. The dresser. Bob’s bed, piled with his toys. The bear laying beside her. Brock’s room at The Pit. It was just a nightmare.