Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 318: A Lifeline

Chapter 318: A Lifeline
(TW: blood, violence torture)
With a swift motion, Soren grabbed a fistful of Nicholas’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. The nobleman whimpered, fear flashing in his eyes. "Did you think you could poison Riven without repercussions? Answer me."
Did he not make himself clear when he declared to his clan who Riven was and what his position was? So, how did this fool even dare?
Nicholas whimpered, struggling against the emblem that pressed at the back of his neck, it dug deeper into his skin, making him bleed from there too. And though he experienced so much pain, though he was losing blood, his bloodshot eyes glared at Soren.
The fire in his eyes ignited a flicker of rage within Soren.
Soren scoffed, dismissing the feeble bravery behind Nicholas’s glare. With a swift motion, he sent Nicholas sprawling to the ground once more. The jarring impact forced the breath from Nicholas’s lungs, but the adrenaline flooding his system dulled the pain, leaving only raw survival instinct.
His bare feet, shredded and bleeding, sank into the cold dirt and snow, mixing the crimson of his injuries with the earth. And yet at the moment, he did not feel pain, he felt resentment and disappointment. That fucking half-breed survived.
A crazed smile crept across Nicholas’s face as he stood up. "So I see he did not die," he whispered, taunting Soren with a confidence that sent a spike of fury through the shifter.
Soren’s eyes darkened, an animalistic growl rumbling low in his throat. In his fury, he punched Nicholas, sending him to the ground yet again.
Soren stepped closer, and placed his foot firmly on Nicholas’ right hand. Nicholas gasped, the crazed smile faltering for a moment as he felt the leather against his hand. "You won’t last long enough to savour that victory."
Soren looked nonchalant as he positioned his boot over Nicholas’s trembling hand. "Let’s see how much spirit you have left," he taunted, applying pressure until Nicholas’s breath hitched in his throat. Before the nobleman could brace himself, Soren stomped down hard, crushing the bones beneath his heel.
A deafening crack echoed through the forest, mingling with Nicholas’s anguished wail. It was a sound primal and raw, the desperate cry of a man pushed beyond his limits. "Was it this hand that you used to drug him?" Soren asked, leaning in with a twisted smile.
Taking his time he aimed for one finger at a time, what good would it do if he did it all at once? The thumb... The index, the middle finger, the ring finger and finally... The last one.
He lifted his foot, revealing the mangled remains of Nicholas’s fingers, bent and broken.
Nicholas gasped, tears streaming down his face as he tried to pull away, but Soren’s weight pressed him firmly to the ground. "Or was it the other?" Soren taunted, stepping over to his other hand. With a calculated calm, he ground his heel against the delicate bones.
Did he find it satisfying to see Nicholas, the man who harmed Riven, suffer like this? No, because he would rather no harm befall Riven in the first place.
Another series of cracks rang out, this time accompanied by a high-pitched wail that tore from Nicholas’s throat, the sound echoing through the trees. "Do you know what the consequence is?" Soren leaned down, his voice a low, mocking whisper. "You will never use both hands again."
But, it was quite possible that Nicholas wouldn’t be able to use his feet again as well.
Nicholas’s fingers were a grotesque mess, blood pooling around his hands, the pain radiating through every nerve ending. But Soren wasn’t finished. He took his time, as he turned his attention back to the first hand, pressing down on the broken digits, twisting them just enough to elicit another desperate scream.
"So, answer me this time. What was your plan? You really could not have thought you could try to target me and succeed." To Soren, the reason why Riven was attacked was because of him, he had his enemies. And he intended to wipe them out, set an example by hanging Nicholas’ corpse for everyone to see. Yes, that did put a smile on his face.
Nicholas’s face contorted in agony, his body thrashing as he fought against the pain, but it was futile. "Hah..." He said with a shaky breath. "My target was never you..." He turned his neck to spit out the blood pooling in his mouth.
Nicholas struggled but turned his side, his body was facing the ground, and Soren let him. He calmly cleaned his knuckles with a cloth. They seemed to be stained by that bastard’s filthy blood. He was calm and confident.
Nicholas lay face down on the forest floor, the cold earth pressing against his cheek. He felt the sharpness of desperation clawing at his insides as he stealthily grasped the syringe hidden in his clothes.
It felt like a lifeline—a last resort. The tranquilliser and poison swirled within, a deadly concoction meant for a single purpose: to end his own life. He wanted to hear the news that the filthy mutt died... And then he could die in peace. But that did not happen. He could not die. Not until he heard the news that Riven was dead.
The thought churned within him like a storm. Why was he still alive? Why had his plan failed? The anger surged through him, mingling with despair. He wanted to scream, to cry, but he swallowed it down, forcing a calm exterior. Soren was still too close. He needed Soren to come closer to execute his plan.
With a surge of determination, Nicholas clutched that syringe tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to provoke Soren... He needed this to count, once chance was all he had.
"You, my target?" He spat, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "My target was never you. My target has always been that disgusting dog who deserved a death far more painful than—"