Chapter 880

Roman nearly gagged instantly. That tasted bitter and wrong like swallowing burnt blood and poison mixed together.

The force released him seconds later, and he doubled over coughing violently, trying to spit the substance back out. But nothing came up.

“Oh goddess,” Roman wheezed. “I’m fairly certain no living creature was meant to consume that.”

“Put him on the table.”

This time Roman fought properly. Or tried to. But the collar around his neck weakened him badly, leaving his movements sluggish and ineffective. The wolves overpowered him easily despite his kicking and struggling.

“On his back,” Ziva instructed.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not. Why on my back?” Alarm flooded him instantly. He really didn’t like where this was going, especially with the direction his thoughts were taking.

“Listen, I support personal freedom and all, but I’m very committed to my current preferences.”

But they didn’t care, slamming him onto the cold stone table and strapped his wrists and legs down tightly. Roman pulled hard against the restraints, his muscles straining uselessly.

Damn it. Right now, he felt no stronger than an ordinary human.

No offense to humans, but how did they live like this?

Then Ziva stepped beside him holding a strange silver dagger coated in a weird black oil. And the look in her eyes? Pure terrifying excitement.

Fuck his life.

Roman immediately knew this was going to hurt.

One of the wolves ripped open the back of his shirt. At the same time, the witches nearby began chanting under their breath, their voices low and rhythmic.

Roman’s pulse spiked as Ziva leaned closer.

“I hope this hurts the bitch far more than it hurts you.”

Then the blade touched his back and

Roman screamed.

The silver carved into his flesh, pain ripping not only through his body but violently across the matebond itself. It felt like fire spreading beneath his skin, like someone was tearing his nerves apart one by one.

“Motherfucker!” Roman choked out, tears springing instantly into his eyes as his body jerked violently against the restraints. “Fuck—fuck—!”

But no matter how much he screamed, it did nothing to lessen the pain. If anything, the silver only seemed to burn deeper with every movement.

Then horror truly settled in. This wasn’t random torture. The bitch was carving words into his back.

“What are you fucking doing?!” Roman practically bawled, his voice breaking from the sheer agony. It hurt so badly he couldn’t even describe it. Every stroke of the blade felt like fire being branded directly into his soul.

Ziva looked deeply pleased with herself.

“I’m sending a message to your mate,” she replied. “This should be enough to get her ass moving from whatever realm she’s hiding in.”

Roman’s face drained of color. No, no, no.

He would rather endure this pain a thousand times over than drag Violet into Angus’s mess. But strapped helplessly to the table, he had no choice in the matter.

Ziva continued writing on his skin.

Roman’s breathing turned ragged, his fingers straining so hard against the restraints his wrists burned raw. Thankfully, after what felt like an eternity, Ziva finally stepped back.

Roman collapsed against the table, panting heavily, his entire back feeling like it had been set on fire.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered weakly.

Then again, almost delirious.

“I’m sorry.”

Blood coated his back where the words had been imprinted into his flesh.

“Hm?” Ziva leaned closer with cruel amusement dancing in her eyes. “What happened? No more jokes?”

Roman barely heard her, reeling from the torment.

One of the witches approached with a bowl filled with water and cloth stained from previous use. She began carefully wiping the blood away from his back, exposing the message beneath.

“Whatever pain you experienced,” the witch explained calmly while she worked, “your mate will experience as well. Though unlike yours, her marks will fade eventually.”

A pleased smile touched her lips.

“I imagine she’s losing her mind already.”

“The mark…” Roman rasped suddenly.

Ziva paused.

“What?”

“Show me the mark,” he breathed.

That finally caught Ziva’s attention properly. Her brows lifted slightly as she studied him. The cardinal alpha truly was bizarre.

Most people would have begged for the pain to stop, instead, Roman wanted to inspect the craftsmanship.

Indeed, Violet was apparently into the crazy ones.

Ziva tilted her head toward one of the wolves. Without question, he pulled out his phone, stepped behind Roman, and snapped a picture of the wound across his back before bringing it around for him to see.

Roman lifted his head weakly to see it. The moment the image came into view, silence settled across the room as everyone waited for his reaction.

“Come get your mate, bitch.” the jagged words stretched violently across his back.

The skin around it was red and torn from the silver.

But instead of horror, Roman smiled.

“What a nice tattoo,” he rasped.

The room went still.

Roman looked genuinely pleased despite the sweat soaking his face.

“Violet is going to love this.”

Even the wolf holding the phone looked confused now.

Roman chuckled weakly, ignoring the fire still burning through his back. “In the end, Asher’s not the only one with a dramatic scar anymore.”

Everyone was utterly bewildered. Ziva herself looked personally offended by his reaction. Unfortunately, realizing her torture hadn’t broken him only made her angrier.

Her expression twisted violently. She swept her hand and the table beneath Roman flipped instantly, sending him crashing hard onto the stone floor. Pain exploded through his battered body, and a groan tore from his throat.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Ziva screamed, finally losing the composed cruelty she had been clinging to.

Roman was laughing now. He could already picture Violet in bed, brushing her soft lips against his back tenderly. Goddess, he couldn’t wait already.

Ziva thought she had broken him, but instead she had given him the best gift ever.

Unfortunately, frustration finally won over Ziva and she turned toward the wolves.

“I want you to beat the bastard until he’s within an inch of his life.”

The wolves nodded and set to work.

The sound of their boots striking his flesh and Roman’s muffled grunts of pain followed Ziva out of the room as she stormed away, fury practically radiating from her body.