Tavern Cruelty

The sticky floorboards dug into my knees as I knelt by the scarred table, my hands trembling from a potent mix of fear and despair. Blackthorn's men laughed and drank, their voices clashing in a chaotic symphony that only deepened my isolation. The barkeep, having delivered their drinks, retreated behind the bar, his gaze flickering nervously between me and the men who now dominated his tavern. I could feel the weight of the other patrons’ stares—curious, uneasy—each of them trying to understand the scene playing out before them.

Blackthorn leaned back in his chair; his eyes locked on mine as he took a slow, deliberate swig of ale. He reveled in the power he held over me, savoring the way I flinched with every subtle movement. The tears still clinging to my cheeks only seemed to fuel his satisfaction. With an almost languid motion, he set down his tankard and reached for something at his side. A glint of metal caught my eye, and my heart lurched. He drew a dagger from his belt, holding it up to inspect the blade with a detached, almost clinical interest before returning his gaze to me.

"Do you know what happens to those who defy me, Isabella?"

His voice was a low, menacing purr.

"They learn their place."


He twirled the dagger between his fingers, the blade catching the flicker of lantern light. My breath hitched, and fresh tears welled in my eyes. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but there was no escape. His leash on me felt both literal and figurative, binding me to his control.

Without warning, Blackthorn lunged. The blade sliced through the air. I gasped, bracing for the sharp sting of pain. Instead, he severed the leash tethering me to him. The frayed end fell to the floor, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered. Was he going to let me go?

He grabbed my arm with crushing force, yanking me to my feet. I cried out from the roughness of his grip. He dragged me toward the center of the tavern, his men parting like wolves making way for their alpha. The patrons watched, horror and fascination etched across their faces, their murmurs growing louder.

“Listen up!”

Blackthorn’s voice sliced through the noise.

“This here is your princess, Isabella.”
“She's about to learn what happens when you cross me.”

Silence blanketed the room, all eyes pinned on us. Humiliation burned my cheeks, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. I tried to pull away, but Blackthorn’s hold was unyielding. He raised the dagger, and I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable pain.

Instead, the blade met the fabric. He sliced through my clothing, the pieces falling away in shreds. Gasps and whispers rippled through the room as I stood, exposed and vulnerable. Tears streamed down my face—shame and helplessness blending into a crushing weight. Blackthorn stepped back, surveying me with a satisfied smirk.

“Remember this, Isabella.”
“You belong to me.”

I gasped as the tankard of ale was dumped over my head. My wet hair clung to my body as the sticky drink ran down my exposed form. He turned to his men, who grinned with cruel amusement.

"Take her to the back.”
“Make sure she understands her place."

Two of his men moved toward me, their hands rough as they dragged me toward a door at the rear of the tavern. The door slammed shut behind us, plunging me into darkness. The air in the back room was thick, reeking of damp wood and stale ale. I could barely make out the shapes of crates and barrels lining the walls. Fear gripped me tighter as the two men loomed closer, their twisted smiles gleaming in the dim light. One of them, a burly man with a deep scar down his cheek, shoved me against a stack of crates. Pain shot through my body as I hit the wood.

“You’re going to learn your place, little girl,” he growled, his breath foul against my face.

His companion, a lean man with a permanent sneer, chuckled darkly as he stepped closer, his eyes sweeping over me with predatory hunger. My heart pounded in my chest, and I tried to shrink away, but there was no escape.

The lean man seized my wrists, forcing my arms above my head. The scarred man produced a length of rope, binding me to a hook on the wall. I struggled against the rough fibers, but it was futile. I was trapped, at their mercy. The scarred man unsheathed a knife, the blade cold against my skin.

“Let’s see how much fight you have left,” he taunted, his voice a low, mocking whisper.

Tears blurred my vision, but I bit down on my lip, stifling the sob that threatened to escape.

“Beg for mercy,” the lean man jeered, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.
“Maybe we’ll go easy on you.”

Through my tears, I met their gaze, knowing that begging would only feed their cruelty. What choice did I have?

“Please,” I choked out.
“Please, don’t hurt me.”

Their laughter echoed off the cold walls. The scarred man pressed the knife against my cheek, the sharp edge biting into my skin. Then, the door swung open. Mauve entered the room, her presence commanding immediate attention. She moved with a quiet authority, her eyes cold and unflinching as she regarded the men.

“The captain says she’s had enough for tonight,” Mauve said, her voice calm, but laced with iron.

The lean man scowled, his amusement vanishing.

“Release her,” Mauve ordered.

The scarred man hesitated, glancing between me and Mauve, but her expression brooked no argument. With a growl of frustration, he stepped back and sheathed his blade. Before releasing me, he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear.

“This isn’t over,” he whispered, a promise of future torment.

My limbs shook as the ropes fell from my wrists, my skin prickling as blood rushed back into my hands. I struggled to stand, my legs weak and unsteady. Mauve was there, her arms firm around my waist, steadying me. She draped a cloak over my exposed body.

“We need to get you out of here,” she murmured, her voice soft but urgent.

We made our way toward the door.

“Why did you help me tonight?”

Mauve’s expression remained unreadable.

“The captain ordered a stop to your punishment.”
“He still wants you alive.”
“For now.”
“Enough questions.”

We hurried through the quiet streets toward the ship, my legs trembling beneath me. I cast a glance back at the castle, surprised by the eerie calm. We reached the plank of the ship. James met us on deck.