Riot (Scarred Souls 4)

I froze when his eyes collided with mine. Master, cool and controlled as always, made his way to me. But I saw his cheek twitch with each step; it betrayed the anger simmering beneath.

Maya’s hand tightened on my arm. Master stood before me. Like batting away a fly, he gripped her by her hair and threw her to the floor.

Maya fell with a thud. I instinctively called out and went to help her. But Master was there first, gripping my arm in a painful hold, spinning me around as he dragged me to the bed. My body was bared as he threw the towel to the floor. Without speaking, he pushed my chest down over the side of the bed. I cried out when his feet kicked my feet apart. I heard the zipper on his pants rip down. Then he was over me, slamming inside with all the cruelty I knew he harbored within.

My hands grasped at the bedsheets as his chest pressed flush to my bare back, keeping me in place. And he was relentless. He wasn’t slow, didn’t ease me into the taking. He took me hard and fast. He took me unprepared. The pain was great, but the hurt blazing in my chest was worse. He moved my head, shifting its direction on the mattress. I faced the room, my eyes colliding with Maya as she still lay hurt and afraid on the floor.

I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see her witnesses this. As I did, I felt Master’s breathing pant in harsh breaths over my cheek. He groaned as the speed of his thrusts increased. Then, leaning down farther, he placed his mouth at my ear and said, “You are mine, 152. My High Mona.” Possession laced each of his words. His free hand reached down to grasp my hip. I bit back a scream as his fingers dug into my flesh, the hold bruising.

Master called out as his length twitched inside me. I prayed it was over, but Master fought back his release. His hips rolled, making sure I felt every stab of pain within. “You tended him,” he hissed, my eyes snapping open in alert. “My guards watched you. They watched you kiss his forehead. They watched you wash him. They heard you speaking to him in Russian.” Master gripped my head and forced me to arch my back. I held back from making a sound. He would like that. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “But worse, you slept beside that monster, in his bed. He fucked you in his bed then held you close.” Master’s mouth moved from my ear, and pulling my neck to the side, he bit into my shoulder. This time I had no choice but to scream out in pain. Just as I did, Master shouted out in pleasure.

He thrust into me four more times, then released me. My cheek fell to the bed, my body aching. Master pulled from my channel, moving to stand to the side. “Get her dressed,” he ordered Maya. Maya pushed to her feet. Her hair was pulled from her neat bun. Doing as instructed, Maya came to where I lay and helped get me to my feet.

I winced as I walked. Master was still as night at the end of the bed. “You have fifteen minutes.” Master’s harsh command made me jump, then he added, “Don’t clean away my release. Leave it there.” Maya quickly ushered me into the side room and began fixing my hair and face. As I looked into the mirror, tears built in my eyes. The bite mark was bloodied and deep, my hair was in disarray. Worse was Master’s seed running down my legs, the thing he had ordered Maya to leave.

Nausea clawed up my throat, but I held it back. Maya was silent as she readied me even quicker than Master had demanded. I stood as she draped me in a dark blue High Mona dress. The material was beautiful but sullied by the seed dripping down my thighs and the bite mark sitting garishly on my skin.

As Maya threaded long earrings in my ears, our eyes met and I saw the fear in their dark depths. And I understood what that look meant. He knew. He knew, or at least suspected, that I had feelings for 901.

As much as I feared the male waiting in the other room, as much as I knew he would hurt me in the most horrific ways if he knew just how much I cared for 901, I couldn’t find the strength to care.

Maya stepped back and nodded her head. Taking that as my sign to exit the room, I did so, my head hanging low as Master liked.

“Ah,” I heard him whisper aloud. “You look beautiful.” My heart skipped a beat, but not in happiness. It was in complete confusion. Master’s finger came under my chin and lifted my head until my eyes met his. He was smiling, but there was still residual anger in his stare. “So so beautiful,” he murmured, and leaned forward to press a long, single kiss on my cheek.

I trembled. I had strived to not show my anger, but it couldn’t be held back. “Shh,” Master soothed as he drew back. His lips tightened, then he said, “You’re a whore, it’s what you were made for, what I made you be. It isn’t your fault that you want that beast to mount you.” He stepped closer and closer until her towered over me. “Or is it?” he questioned, his tone flat and threatening. “Do you want him to screw you, petal? You want him more than me?”

I was too scared to speak, so I didn’t. That was the wrong decision. Master’s hand gripped my upper arm and squeezed until I cried out. “Answer me,” he hissed.

“No, Master,” I replied quickly. “I don’t want him.” Master’s grip loosened. When he looked at me, the widest, most genuine smile was on his lips. In a flash, his anger had vanished and I felt stunned. His ever-changing personality had softened to the male that looked at me like I was the most important female of all in the pit. Which I was, I realized. I was on his arm, not 901’s.

That thought caused me more pain than I could bear.

Slipping my arm through his, he turned to the door. “Come. Our investors await us.” It wasn’t lost on me that he called them “our.” I knew that in his mind I was again his property. But when we walked out the door and Master began leading me toward the fighters’ tunnel, a sense of foreboding settled over me. It wasn’t the way we usually walked to the pit and Master’s seat; this hallway led to 901. It led us to the champions’ quarters.

I stumbled as Master pulled me forward. I had unintentionally slowed down. I tried to keep my composure as we entered the champions’ quarters, but my legs felt weak and I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking.

Master did not speak. As we passed the other two champions’ cell doors, they appeared, to see who had arrived. The champion 140, when he viewed Master, reddened in the face. His hands were gripping the bar with incredible strength. If looks could kill, Master would be drawing his last breath.

When we arrived at 901’s cell, he was already waiting beyond the door, blades in hand, ready for battle. As it did every night, my heart skipped a beat when I saw him. He was wearing his black pants, his feet bare. His chest glistened in a sheen of sweat. I knew it was from the exercises he did to warm up his muscles for the fight. His blond hair was in a messy disarray, but his blue eyes were bright.

They immediately dulled when he saw me on Master’s arm.

Master appeared cool and collected, but his arm linking with mine tensed to the point that he hurt me. My nostrils flared at the pain.

“901,” Master said smugly, stepping closer to the cell door. I had noticed in the past few weeks that the guards kept a safe distance from 901 when he was at his cell door. Maya had told me how everyone feared him, how he had killed several guards just for killing’s sake. But Master got so close that if he wanted, 901 could have hurt him very badly. Master didn’t even seem threatened.

Master pushed me in front of him, my back at his chest. His hands lifted to grip my upper arms. His hold was unyielding.

When I looked up, 901’s cheek twitched. It was the only sign that he was affected by our presence. Master stayed silent for a long second, until he drew back my hair, baring my shoulder. The shoulder he had bitten, the one that was already red, bruised, and swollen.

A low growl rumbled in 901’s chest. He was staring at my new wound. I ducked my eyes in embarrassment. Master tensed at 901’s reaction, then leaned down and ran his nose along the side of my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut in repulsion. I didn’t want him to touch me. He hurt me. But more than that, I didn’t want 901 to see Master with me this way. If I could help it, he would never know that Master had just taken me, brutally and raw. I wanted to keep 901 safe.

But that was shattered when, wordlessly, Master bent down and lifted my dress. With every revealed inch of my legs bared, I became more and more breathless. My chest ached when he bared my core for 901’s viewing. Master’s release was still on my thighs. He was showing 901 what he’d done.