Fenrin's blood was boiling. The seething moment when his blade slid into the man who killed his mother was frozen in his mind. His heart pounded in his ears and and a searing pain wrapped around his throat.

The frozen moment stopped and he screamed, scrabbling at his neck. His fingers clawed at metal and he rolled his face off the ground. Purple smoke filled the air above him, he lashed out and his fingers found his sword. Grabbing it he jumped to his feet. His vision was blurred and slowly turning red, he swung at anything that moved.

He wanted them dead. All of them. Wanted to feel their lungs puncture and see their looks of surprise as he cut them down. He lunged at a shadowy shape and then choked as he was pulled back by his neck, crashing back to the stone floor.

He got up again but heat hit his back and pain rippled through his body, sending him twitching to the floor. Lights flashed and his hearing popped, going in and out. Sensing someone looming over him, he lashed out with his fists and growled in triumph they connected.

The pain hit again and he twisted his back arching. He was pulled along the floor by his neck, hands once scrambling at his throat. His fingers wound around a chain and he held it, avoiding strangulation. Blurred figures grabbed and tossed him quickly. He hit metal and the pull on his neck disappeared.

Fenrin tried to focus and managed to make out dark vertical lines in his vision, he stuck his hands out and they connected with the bars. He screamed at the shadowy figures beyond, promising them death.

Niv appeared, the only clear figure, her face amused. She waved her hand and the pain returned. Desperately, he tried to hold himself up on the bars but eventually his eyes rolled up and he lost consciousness.

"Wake up, Wolf," Niv's unearthly voice called and Fenrin groaned.

His heart was pounding and he felt adrenaline coursing through him but his limbs were so heavy he couldn't move. The cold iron around his neck began to burn and he twisted to roll on his hands and knees, clawing at the collar in disbelief.

"There you are."

The demoness was leaning in to smile at him through the bars. He glanced around and bared his teeth—it was a cage not a cell. Niv held a chain in her hand that snaked through the bars and attached at his collarbone. He would kill her! He would...

"Perhaps it is a bit much, so much rage will tear your mortal mind apart."

She touched his forehead and his hands shot up to grab her arm but they recoiled, burned. His vision went dark and then he was home. Lyra leapt onto the table, daggers appearing in her hands. With a snarl she jumped at him and he rolled from his chair, knocking his goblet over and into his concerned mother's lap.

He blocked Lyra's first strike easily and began to push ahead. He could feel his father staring at his back and hatred bubbled over inside him. How dare she try to take this away from him? How could his father force him into this? He kicked Lyra's chest and she tumbled, rolling backward in time to block his downward strike.

This will do.

His vision cleared and he was back in the cage. His heart still raced and his fists clenched, every muscle poised to strike. Niv unlatched his leash and the door swung open. His gaze snapped to the opening, everything in a red haze. A man in a torn robe was surrounded by a ring of fire.

"Kill him, Wolf," Niv said. Her eyes flashed and Fenrin realized that this man was trying to take his freedom, was challenging his strength, and he charged.

His victim's hands glowed red as he tried to cast a spell, but Fenrin leapt through the flames and barrelled into him. He punched him in the face, knee digging into his stomach. His hands snaked around the man's neck and he squeezed. His victim’s eyes bulged and Fenrin snarled, "Die you bastard!"

The man went blue and then limp. Fenrin grinned in triumph, getting to his feet. He laughed, he'd done it! Who was next? He wanted more.

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He was yanked back, the chain magically relatched and he reached for it, pulling.

"No!" he growled. The chain grew hot and he smelled his flesh burning. He leaned over, widening his stance to remain standing. Blood dripped from his face and eyes like tears.

There were gasps of awe as he remained standing for a few more moments before collapsing once more into unconsciousness.

Fenrim awoke this time unbidden. He couldn't open his eyes and his fingers went to his face, rubbing the crusted blood from his lashes. Every breath hurt and he turned on his side trying to get his bearings.

He was in the cage again but this time the room was empty save Niv who sat looking bored on her throne.

Fenrin tried to sit up, but his arm failed and he fell back down, the sound making his chain clank and Niv looked up. He lay unable to move and watched her smile.

"Ah, you really didn't die. How amusing."

Like a child seeing a toy shop, she approached with an excited eager expression. Fenrin only had to glance up a bit to her face, realizing the cage must be suspended a few feet off the ground. He opened his mouth to curse her but ended up coughing.

Unfazed, Niv reached between the bars to touch the mark on his forehead. His vision went black and all senses stopped.

So much pain to enjoy. I will savor you and your black heart for a while before claiming your soul. Where to start....

Images flashed and Fenrin lost all sense of time. The next thing he knew, he was hitting a wood floor hard. He spat blood and looked up. Jaired loomed over him, stepping back from the kick.

"Come on, pup! Do it right next time." A few pirates laughed and Fenrin's fingers curled. He looked up and saw Bryn's disapproving glance before his father turned away. With a scream, Fenrin launched himself at Jaired, pounding his head into the older man’s stomach and hugging his knees to force him to the floor. The man tumbled and Fenrin scrambled to get to his face. He raised a small fist before Jaired literally beat him to the punch, sending him flying back to the deck floor.

Fenrin sniffled hearing an appreciative whistle from a crew member. His face burned and he got up to run off.

Don't stop now, you're just getting started. Here.

Fenrin stopped his retreat and looked at the small black knife that had appeared in his hand. He grabbed it and spun around. Jaired was laughing with a crew member who tried to get him to turn in time but Fenrin was too fast. Jaired barely had time to react as Fenrin plunged the knife into his chest. The pirate placed his hands on the hilt a top Fenrin's in disbelief and Fenrin snarled before ripping it free, dark blood arching out of the wound.

Jaired’s face was frozen in disbelief until he convulsed, red pouring with steady bursts from his chest until he fell in a heap.

Fenrin stood over the body triumphant, euphoria filling his heart.

That's better.

The scene replayed and Fenrin killed Jaired in various ways before his vision darkened and returned to the cage.

"What is it, Viris?"

"My queen, our scouts detected strong magic near the border but found nothing when they investigated."

Niv hissed. "Useless. I will scry. Cover the cage."

Fenrin opened his mouth to yell but the collar grew hot and it turned into a yelp. Viris looked at him with distaste and waved a hand until darkness covered the cage, all sound disappearing as well.

Fenrin felt around, finding the edges and reached. As far as his fingers could tell, there was nothing beyond the bars but air. He tried to stand and after a few failed attempts managed to get to his feet, only to discover the cage short enough to force him to hunch. Growling he sat back down.

He struggled to remember what had happened. Niv had picked him out, he'd tried to fight the crowd and...Jayln.

He furrowed his brows in concentration. Had she been pulled over too? No, he remembered watching her back up into the crowd. Perhaps she'd escaped. If not...he tried to shout her name, but again the collar burned him cutting off his attempts to speak.

With growing acceptance, Fenrin considered his options. He was being toyed with by a demon and had no back-up. Jayln would run back to her village, free of danger and of him. “Good,” he thought with a sense of satisfaction. But he also felt regret.

He'd been so close. To what exactly, he couldn't quite place, but he sighed with a moment of self-pity. It seemed his number was finally up.

Maybe he could bargain with the demoness, join her cult in exchange for freedom. He toyed with this idea, the thought of serving his captor filled him with revulsion but so did remaining caged on a leash like a dog. It was a lose-lose.

He was too proud to try to find escape through death and so decided on the option that he was most familiar with—to wait until he could strike and take his revenge.

And so he waited.

And waited.