The buzzing started close to my ear. I fisted my hands as the first stinging pain erupted at the back of my neck.
“Good girl,” the goblin said. “Just relax. I’m quick.” Some more buzzing pain followed, punctuated by Red telling Brianne to shut her fucking mouth. “Well, at least all the girls say I’m quick.”
Cruelty interspersed with sex jokes. This is what my life had become. I closed my eyes and let my arms fall, my knuckles brushing the floor as more pain ricocheted down my spine. I was an Acquisition, a possession to Vinemont. Nothing more. He would let the goblin mark my skin. He didn’t care. He was still the cold spider I’d known him to be since the first time I saw him. I was in his web now, caught and dangling as he fed off me slowly. How would he win this competition? What would victory entail? My death?
I let the pain flow into me, trapping it inside a box in my heart. I’d store it up, feed it, make it grow stronger until it turned into rage. Then I would let it out and bring Vinemont and the rest of these accursed people to their knees.
Chapter Twelve
Sinclair
She’d gone limp. Given up. Tony continued his work, making a better V than even the one gracing my chest. He was my personal tattoo artist. His shop in Mobile was the toast of the South. People came from all over the country, all over the world, just to bear his ink.
He finished up the last of the thorns, done in the same deep green as mine, when I leaned down and added a little something extra.
“I want a small spider.” I pointed to one of the inner curves of vines. “Here.”
I whispered it low enough that Stella wouldn’t hear it over the music and the buzzing. She always referred to me as a spider. Now, I would be on her body permanently.
“I like it, man.” Tony switched to a deep crimson ink and drew in the small accent. “Nice.”
One of the buzzing sounds stopped. Red’s Acquisition sat up and yanked her dress back in place over her bare breast. I almost pitied her. That little show of skin was nothing compared to what came next.
I pitied her more for the garish tattoo Red had forced on her—his name in bright red ink with blue flames licking the letters. What a fucking prick to ruin a beautiful woman that way.
I shook my head. No, Red has his head in the game. Ruination was the goal. I was over here dicking around and ensuring Stella’s brand was art, not something to mar her perfect skin. I’d told myself too many times to stop thinking of her as a person. But here I was, doing it again and letting my dick lead me around.
I’d already given in to her, promised her a reward for making it through this night. It was foolish. Still, if it worked even a little to keep her in line, it was worth it. This was spectacle, all of it. I needed the families, and especially Cal, to come away from this seeing me as the frontrunner for Sovereign.
Bob’s Acquisition didn’t fare much better than Red’s. At least the eagle on his man’s back had some artistry in it. It was nothing compared to Tony’s work, but it turned out far better than the travesty on Brianne’s chest.
“All right. She’s all done.” Tony sat back and admired his handiwork before rubbing some salve along Stella’s skin.
It was a wasted effort. Her tattoo was the least of her worries.
Stella sat up and gave me the most vicious glare I’d ever seen on her face. Not even after the day in the yard had she flashed at me with such hate.
“Here, angel, check it in the mirror. It’s not so bad.”
Tony handed Stella a mirror and held one up behind her so she could see the design. Her crimson lips fell open. “That goddamn V? And what’s the red thing. It looks like…” Her gaze shot up to my eyes. “A spider.”
“Yes, indeed.” Tony took her mirror and began packing up his tattoo gear.
“Head on out, Tony,” I said. “Money’s already in your account.”
Tony popped his head up and surveyed the room. “Sure I can’t stay and see if I can convince one of these masked freaky chicks to go home with me?”
Tony had no idea what was going on. I’d told him this was a fancy party with paid staff and entertainment, Stella and the other Acquisitions being the entertainment. He thought all this was voluntary and just a night of fun. If he stayed any longer, he would know just how non-consensual the whole thing was. I didn’t want to alienate one of the true friends I actually had, and nothing alienates like slavery and whippings.