Broken Captive (Wren's Song 3)

No. It wouldn’t be.

Suds were added, all those dingy locks washed clean until they sparkled like fresh snow.

Wren had never seen snow. Only mud and dirty air and disappointment.

“Dip your head back. Good.” Male hands worked under the water, her hair floating behind her like the net she’d been caught in. “I knew you’d do me proud tonight. When tempted, Kieran has never been able to resist you. Do you know why?”

Kieran is a horrible male.

“Because for as far back as he can remember, his mother pimped him out so she could get a fix.”

A drop, a sinking hold of sensation, sucked the air from lifeless lungs.

Toby winked, still toying with her hair under the water. “Mommy issues galore. And then there you are, offering your life for two kids who aren’t even yours.”

Oh, they were hers. In every possible fucking way but DNA, those boys were hers. And that right there was the reminder she needed to pull herself out of the tornado of ugliness these males had trapped her in tonight.

A full breath stretched her ribs.

“So you understand?” Helping her sit up, Toby reached for a bottle of scentless cream that would keep her hair soft and shining. “No one has ever loved him. I certainly don’t. Caspian hates him. But you can. You will.”

No.

“Yes, you will. You’ll love him for all the times he was forced to take a cock so his mom might get high. You’ll love the little boy who never had a soul to kiss his scraped knees. You’ll love him because you know exactly why he is the way he is.” Again he pushed her back into the water to rinse silken hair clean. “Granted, you might die the death of one-thousand cuts along the way… but I’ll be here to lick your wounds clean.”

I’m going to take my boys far away from you. From all of you.

“And Caspian, he’s completely under your spell. Won’t it be fun to watch him falter and break?”

You’re a sick man.

“That’s enough of a soak for my sweet little sunshine. Come on out now.” Water sloshed, spilling from the tub to rush over cracked tiles, Wren pulled from enough water to hydrate a family for a week. “Let’s dry your splints and make sure the swelling’s in check. Then straight back to bed with you.”

Chapter 6

Wren was restless. A good sign that healing progressed, that pneumonia retreated, and that Alec’s ten days were almost up.

Funny how ten days could pass in a blur.

When they weren’t fucking her, one of them was sleeping beside her—as if they managed their criminal syndicate in shifts.—leaving her trapped in the most disgusting nest imaginable.

It was filthy, the bedding having not been changed since the day she’d signed her soul away to Caspian. And it seemed the males didn’t mind the bloodstains, or dried salves, or the days’ worth of sexual fluids that had soaked so deep that entire blankets were stiff and crunched when moved.

In fact, it seemed they were competing to see who could defile her nesting place the most.

It was hard to judge the winner.

Kieran certainly sprayed more cum than the others—pointedly directing his eruptions to all corners like a dog marking his territory. After he’d pounded her down into the bedding, that first knot was always wasted, left to splatter her breasts so he could use the whole of his body to rub his scent all over her flesh when he fucked her immediately after the last salty droplet splashed her skin. He used her roughly, forcibly ensuring her pleasure under extreme circumstances and chastising if she failed to cum.

The Second rarely slept, using his time with their broken captive to play every sick sort of sexual game he might imagine. This he did, Wren was certain, in an attempt to make her balk. He wanted her to fail.

He wanted her gone.

Yet clung to her in the rare moments his exhausted eyes did close.

When he’d wake, untangle his limbs, hand running through his dark hair as he stood over her, he’d scowl. And then she’d be punished with words—all the ways the other whores sucked cock better. That she was sickly and weak… an embarrassment.

His tirade never took place before the other males. No, it was Kieran’s secret spite and blatant insecurity that stabbed at her in exactly the right place. Because all he claimed was true.

Wren could hardly take a cock down her throat without gagging and begging for air. She didn’t know advanced sexual technique, or exotic positions. And yes, she was ill, and scarred, and had lived her entire life aware her defects made her an embarrassment.

So the barbs didn’t sting her already numbed psyche, and that frustrated Kieran all the more.

The Second Alpha was not going to inspire the meltdown they both knew he hoped would get her sent from Caspian’s den.