He leaned back, giving Breena more room to do her thing. “You stand before me as if you will still be reunited with your human lover. I find that amusing. I also find it amusing that you think he would have you back even if I hand delivered you to him in a pretty bow.”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
“If he felt the same way about you, don’t you think he would’ve found h
is way back here? That he would be storming the doors of our compound? We are well hidden, but where there is a will, there is a way.”
His words were like a well-placed smack in the face. Drake didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t know what Ren and I had shared, but those words still stung. Those words still spoke to the fear and insecurities rooted deep inside of me.
“I don’t need him to save me,” I said, stating the truth.
He smirked. “You can’t even save yourself.”
Resisting the urge to pull a Princess Leia and charge over to the bed to wrap the chain around his neck like he was a slimmer version of Jabba the Hut, I asked rather haughtily, “Did you have me brought here just to talk about Ren while you have sex?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Breena laughed. Well, it was a muffled sound, because her mouth was otherwise occupied. Her head was bobbing and her hand was between her legs, and my face was on fire. Holy canola oil, this was . . . wow, there were no words. I looked over at Faye and she was staring at the floor. Maybe that was what I should do.
Totally going to do that.
But I looked over my shoulder at Valor instead. He was avidly watching the show on the bed, and I really just wanted to throw myself out the nearby window. Since I couldn’t do that, I stared at the floor and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the bed. I didn’t dare look up until I heard Drake groaning again.
Pulling Breena’s head out of his lap, he then tossed his legs off the bed and stood. Buck-ass naked, of course.
I thought of Tink. He would freak if he was here right now. A weird giggle started to rise and I squelched it down.
He walked over to a chair and picked up a robe, slipping it over his shoulders. He left it hanging open, of course, because why not? I mean, what was the point since I’d just seen—
“It’s time.”
Those two words jerked me out of my thoughts. A chill tiptoed down my spine, quickly turning into dread. “Time for what?”
The prince walked toward us. “It’s time to feed.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I could barely keep track of time.
Minutes turned into hours, hours into days. I think ten days had passed since the first time I’d fed on that woman, but I wasn’t exactly sure. Every ounce of my being was dedicated to keeping my head above water, but with every passing minute, I drowned a little more.
A sick and disturbing ritual started, one I wanted no part of but couldn’t fight. No matter what I did, I was dragged under.
The prince would show every day, sometimes in the afternoon. Those days were better because I didn’t spend hours waiting for him to show, knowing that he would and fearing what was to come. Part of me would rather get what was coming over with. Other times he showed in the evening, and I was wired after hours of dread eating away at me.
But he always showed, and I was never taken to his room again.
I tried to resist the manipulation by keeping a distance between us, since I hadn’t been chained to the bed again. But it didn’t work. There was nowhere for me to go, and I . . . I didn’t remember leaving the room with him after that.
I only remembered bits and pieces. Going down the stairs. Sitting on the woman’s cot and wondering why her veins were so dark. Then I fed. I remembered feeling good and then not feeling anything at all, then falling asleep. Each time I woke up, I was full of energy—life that I’d been forced to steal from someone else—and then I showered. I always showered. Details of the time after the feedings were vague shadows I didn’t dare examine too closely.
Every day was like that.
By around day twelve or thirteen, the chain was removed, but the band remained as a reminder—a stupid, pointless reminder, because if the prince wasn’t there, I was sleeping or pacing. The door was locked and there was no busting through the heavy wood like a ninja. No one else came near me.
Not Breena.
Not Faye.
Food was always on the nightstand when I woke. I had no idea if it was Faye who brought it to me or one of the other fae, but it was always a sandwich of some sort. That was the only food I saw all day, and sometimes I wasn’t hungry, because I . . . I was already full from a different source.
When I had complete control over my mind and body, it took every ounce of willpower that I had in me not to claw his heart out with my bare hands. It would’ve been hard and messy, but there was a damn good chance I could have done it. The hate building inside me burned brighter than a thousand suns, but even with that rage, I always, always felt cold. With each passing day, it was like I was filling up on the inside with ice and shadows. The only time I didn’t feel this way was when I slept.
I felt nothing then.
Once he explained to me why I slept after . . . after feeding. The way he described it reminded me of how you want a nap after Thanksgiving dinner, but I also thought it sounded kind of like any time you were high. Eventually you came crashing back down and your body sort of gave out. There was no hangover or recovery for me though. All I needed was sleep, and I was better than before, as sickening as that was.
I didn’t think of Ren during these times. I couldn’t allow myself to, because when I thought of Ren, I worried about how safe he was. I knew the prince couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t break his promise, and that meant he couldn’t indirectly cause Ren harm, but that didn’t stop any other fae from deciding a way to please their leader was to serve up Ren’s head on a platter. And even though I tried not to allow it, Drake and Breena’s words haunted me. Those words messed with me, just like they’d intended, and I thought maybe if I wasn’t stuck in this room, being forced to do horrible things every damn day, I would have the strength not to give in to those words.
I didn’t know anymore.
But in the minutes and hours I was alone, pacing the length of the room, no matter how hard I tried not to, I mourned Ren, because if I made it out of here alive and was reunited with him, I still couldn’t see a happily ever after for us.
On the sixteenth day, the prince arrived in the afternoon. I was ready for him, restless and antsy, standing by the dresser in another dress, much like the first one, but in a deep forest green this time. I don’t know what the fae around here had against pants, but I really looked like the chick from that Disney movie now.
The prince stopped just inside the room, his gaze moving from the bed to where I stood. Based on previous experience, I knew he would immediately pull me under, and once that happened, I would be lost.
“Can we talk for a little bit?” I blurted out before he could do anything.
His brows rose. “Talk?”
I nodded as I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah, that’s what people typically do.”
“But we’re not people.”
Irritation spiked, and I took a deep, even breath. Keep your cool, Ivy. “I know, but I think talking wouldn’t hurt. I only have a couple more days—”
“Six days if you’re counting today,” he interrupted.
“Thanks for keeping track,” I replied, and he smirked. “But I’m still not . . . comfortable with you.”
He stalked forward, and I tensed as I dropped my gaze, focusing on his booted feet. That would only work for so long. When a fae used manipulation, something changed in their voice. It was like a lullaby, and you had to listen and look. And once you looked, you were a goner.
“I would think by now you’d be comfortable,” he said as he stopped a few feet in front of me.
Loathing of the deepest kind flared in my chest. He hadn’t . . . God, I couldn’t even bring myself to think it let alone say it, and I hated that, because it made me feel shamed, and I had done nothing wrong. Nothing. He repeatedly took advantage of me, proving he was the worst kind of creature, and the only reason I think why he hadn’t gone there was because he really didn’t want me.
The prince was aroused only when I fought him, as disturbing and twisted as that was.
It too
k a couple of seconds before I trusted myself to speak. “You manipulate me into feeding, and then after that I’m not really me. None of that counts and doesn’t help me get comfortable with you.”
He leaned against the dresser, loosely crossing his arms. “I’m not sure it’s actually necessary to get more comfortable.”