She awoke slowly, groaning, protesting and praying. Please let it have been a nightmare, please let me wake beside Jonas, please.
"Kitty?" Jonas called out to her, giving her morse reason to force open her eyes. They were tied to chairs facing one another, a table laden with strange instruments between them. It was Jonas she was more interested in. He was bruised, battered, blood seeping from his nose. His knuckles were scraped and bruised and she took pride in the fact that he hadn't gone down with a fight.
"Thank god, I thought-" she cut herself off, unwilling to say the worst outcome that could have come to pass. She couldn't lose him, not when it took them both so long to realise what they had.
"They're awake Savannah," a male - Zeke Kitty presumed - called, sauntering towards them from the shadows. Beside him came Savannah, that usual ruby red smirk in place as she circled them.
"Good morning lover birds, I thought you were never going to wake.”
Kitty jerked as fingers curled in her hair, yanking her head painfully back. A blade pressed against her cheek, a scream torn from her throat as the silver burnt her flesh. Distantly she heard Jonas’ growl of fury, jerking against the bonds holding him in attempt to get to her. She slumped as the blade lifted, breathing heavily through the pain which fogged her mind.
“Now, we’re going to play a little game,” Savannah purred in her ear, that blade dancing in front of her eyes, the promise of yet more pain. Kitty bit down on her lip to hold back a whimper, hating how weak she was. She didn’t do well with pain, her tolenerance and threshold was low - she wasn’t a warrior, wasn’t trained for this. Tears clung to her lashes, salt on her lips. Weak. Weak. Oh, Jonas would think her a coward. And she was, she was.
"Flinch and your sweet husband will feel this instead."
The threat brought that pathetic little whine which had lodged into her throat outward. A testament to her fear. Kitty tensed every inch of herself in an attempt to keep still. It didn't work - that blade flashed downward and her whole body jerked, trying to get away. She was a coward, a pathetic coward. The first sob hurt her bruised throat, vision blurring as she choked out her apology.
"And you thought she loved you," Zeke taunted from the shadows. Suddenly there, the flat of his blade tripping across Jonas’ throat, drawing a shocked pained growl from her husband. “Weak. Did she tell you how she ran from us the first time? We gave her a gift, made her one of us and she has thrown it away!”
“How much do you think she’ll take before she breaks? before she crumbles?” Savannah asked, teasing the tip of the blade from Kitty’s elbow to wrist, drawing a strangled scream from her as flesh parted and silver sizzled her flesh. “What would you give for her Jonas? Your life? Do you think she would do the same?”
“Please, please, stop,” Kitty sobbed, soft hiccuping little noises. “Don’t hurt him, please, just do whatever you want with me.” She wouldn’t be weak for him, wouldn’t get him killed for her. Jonas didn’t deserve any of this, didn’t deserve to go through any of this.
“No! Kitty, no! Don’t hurt her. Do whatever you want to me but don’t hurt her.”
“Oh, how cute, the little lovebirds begging for each other. But I think you can do better than that…”
