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No! No!
Soft flesh slipped past his mouth and Adaar bit, copper filling his mouth, some primal urge delighting in hurting his captors before they could hurt him. His eyes were covered suspending him in total darkness. It was a small mercy it was a thick cloth rather than the heavy metal thread the Avaarad favoured, needles as sharp as the jagged edges of the collar they would snap around his neck.
Not again. Never again.
He’d die first.
What were they doing? There was no follow up strike, no electricity from the control rod lacing down his spine, no shouts in thick Qunlat carrying the accent Adaar had tried so hard to lose.
Hands.
As quick as he could pull his magic to him - what was that, not of him, but part of him - light seared into his eyes, shocking him into stunned silence. Bull pulled the unlocked cuffs from around his wrists with minimal contact, Adaar yearning for his touch and shying away in the same breath.
“You back with me Boss? Anything you want me to do?” Bull asked, eye fixed on Adaar’s face.
Adaar shook his head numbly, realising he was shaking. The Avaarad has taken everything from him twice over, where they going to take his happiness with Bull also?