~ ROWAN
The rogue was unrecognizable by the time I laid eyes on him.
His left eye was swollen shut, there were bruises all over his face and blood poured out of a cut on his forehead. Underneath the fresh bruises were faded ones, already yellowing. His shirt was torn, revealing now healing cuts along his torso all the way down to his pants.
Silver chains wrapped around his wrists and neck. Jeremiah held the other end in a gloved hand, directing the rogue like a dog on a leash. His expression was neutral. Years of training had hardened him to the sight that would've made a lesser man throw up.
"What does he have?" I asked coldly, eyes fixed on the rogue.
He was shivering despite the air being warm, and his eyes were fixed on the ground. The bravado he displayed earlier upon being caught was gone. They'd broken him piece by piece, as they always did.
"Speak," Jeremiah ordered.
