Torn (A Wicked Trilogy 2) - Page 50

I stared at the mosaic tile of the shower stall. Could I do it? The chain hung heavily from my neck. It would be easy to use the chain, far too easy, but even in my darkest moments after Shaun’s death, I’d never seriously considered ending my own life.

This situation was different though, because it wasn’t grief or depression guiding the thought. My very existence was a means to an end, and I couldn’t continue living like this, being forced to feed on humans. I also knew that eventually Drake wasn’t going to stop.

A sob shook my shoulders and I stepped back, pressing against the tiled wall. Pressing my hands over my face, I struggled to hold it together. My entire body trembled. I wanted out of here. I didn’t want to spend another second in this place, but what I wanted wasn’t going to happen.

“Pull your shit together, Ivy.” I gripped the chain and forced myself to turn off the water and step out of the shower. “You can deal with all this crap later, but you need to get your shit together.”

Repeating those words over and over, I slowly stitched myself back together, because I had to—because I wasn’t going to wake up and find myself safe. There were gaps in the stitches, gaping holes, but it was the best I could do. The only chance I had to get out of here with my life and my sanity was by following my earlier plan while keeping it together. That was the only thing I could control now.

~

Faye brought me a sandwich that evening, but I wasn’t hungry. Anxious energy upset my stomach, and every time I heard footsteps outside the door, I expected Drake to come through. But he hadn’t.

Yet.

She avoided eye contact with me as I picked at my food, managing to eat the slices of honey ham only because I knew I needed to eat something. When I couldn’t swallow anymore, I set the plate on the nightstand and looked up to find Faye by the window.

I remembered seeing her yesterday when I went into that room and also when I left it. Or at least I think I saw her when I left. “Are you going to hook this chain back to the bed?”

Her shoulders stiffened as she finally focused on me. “I have not been told to. I hope I will not, but I guess it will depend on you.”

My blood pressure shot up. “I’m not sure how being chained to a bed really depends on me.”

“It shouldn’t,” she agreed, surprising me. “But it does.”

Staring at her for a moment, I shook my head. “I . . . I don’t get you.”

Her silvery-blonde eyebrows rose.

“You know what I am, right? Not the halfling part or why I’m here. You know I’m an Order member—”

“And it would be your duty to murder me if you saw me on the streets?” she interjected. “Yes. I know.”

Holding the end of the chain, I scooted over so my feet were on the floor. “Then why are you nice to me?”

She stepped away from the window. “Do I need a reason?”

I looked around the room. “Uh. Yeah. All things considered.”

Faye frowned, and she still looked, well, magical. All fae did. They were stunning in an eerie, unreal way. “Is it so hard to believe that when I see you or anyone like you that my first inclination isn’t to feed off you and kill you?”

Again, I looked around the room. “Considering where I am and where you are, uh, yes.”

Gliding forward, she stopped a few feet from me. She started to speak, but the bedroom door flew open, and the ancient called Valor stood there.

“The prince wants her brought to him,” he announced, pushing the door open further.

“No,” I said.

Faye nodded and then stepped back. “If you come willingly, I will not have to lead you.”

What seemed like such a small token of freedom was far more powerful than even I could have realized. My throat tight, I nodded and rose, holding the end of the chain. I wouldn’t be led to wherever the prince was. I would walk there of my own free will.

“Thank you,” I whispered to her as we followed Valor through the door.

Faye didn’t acknowledge my words, and we were silent as I followed them down the hallway. We weren’t going toward the stairs. I had a sinking suspicion that we were going to Drake’s bedroom, and I really didn’t like that idea.

We stopped in front of a set of large double pocket doors. Valor knocked once. The prince called out, “Come in.”

Valor slid the doors open, then stepped aside. Faye walked in, then me. The first thing I noticed was the giant, four-poster bed in the middle of the room, one even larger than the one I’d been sleeping on, and then I noticed what was in the bed, and didn’t notice anything else after that.

Drake wasn’t alone.

He was on his back, arms folded behind his head, and a woman was on top of him, riding him backwards, cowgirl style or whatever they called it, and that woman was that fucking bitch Breena, and she was completely hairless. Everywhere.

Holy sex show, this was so not what I was expecting.

They were so naked. Like, I was seeing everything. Everything. Breena lifted her hips, and I got a good idea of what the prince had going on downstairs. Then she slammed back down, her lips curved into a grin, and her eyes, unfortunately not permanently damaged, focused on us. The prince groaned in a way that told me we’d come in at the tail end of their escapades.

“Jesus,” I gasped, stepping back and bumping into Valor. “Do you need us to come back or something?”

“No.” Drake’s chuckle was deep and husky. “I was expecting you.”

“Seriously?” I squeaked.

He grasped Breena’s slim hips and lifted her off of him. She landed on the bed beside him with a jiggling bounce, and I quickly looked away, not wanting to see anything else. “Did she eat?” he asked Faye.

“A little,” she responded, her voice surprisingly level, as if holding conversations with the prince while he was having sex was something normal. Maybe it was.

“If you don’t eat your dinner, you don’t get dessert,” the prince stated.

My gaze shot to him. I didn’t want to look, but I kind of had to, because it was like a train wreck of sex right in front of me. “Yeah, I don’t want any dessert.”

“You sure about that?” He reached over, curling his hand into Breena’s mass of dark hair. He dragged her up onto her knees. “Do you want dessert?” he asked her.

Breena’s gaze shifted to him and she licked her lips. “Of course I do.” Placing a hand on his thigh, she leaned into Drake, pressing her front to his side. Then she licked the side of his face. “Do you know who else liked dessert?”

I tensed, knowing what she was going to say. “Do you want your eyes gouged out for real this time?” I said.

Turning her head to me, she smiled. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I think I’ve already proven that I can.” I returned her smile as my hands tightened around the chain I held.

“Enough.” Amusement colored Drake’s tone. He looked over at Breena. “You know what your mouth is better used on.”

“Nice,” I muttered.

Drake eyed me as Breena got down to making a better use of her mouth. “As if your human male doesn’t feel the same.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he respects me,” I shot back.

“Respect?” Drake laughed as he stroked Breena’s head like she was a damn pet. “What does that have to do with it?”

I almost couldn’t believe he was asking that question, but then again, I wasn’t entirely surprised. “Everything.”

“Is that so? You know what I find amusing?”

“No.” But I was betting he was going to tell me.

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout A Wicked Trilogy Fantasy
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