Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Iam dragged back to my room on his order and chained to my bed, and then I am left to wait, with nothing but the dark to keep me company and my memories assaulting me.
Lying on my back, I keep seeing her open, unseeing eyes.
Tears flow down my face, into my hair, and on my pillow.
Alone, I allow myself to grieve when I couldn’t before. Turning my head, I bury my face into the soft pillow to muffle my screams of agony.
She’s gone.
They stole her from me.
They executed my mother like she was nothing, as if she weren’t beloved and a queen.
They took her from a world that needed her, and now her legacy is left to me.
If I die, then it will die with me. I cannot let that happen.
She fought so hard to build this place, and I will not let her dynasty crumble and fall.
I will free our people and kill all those who dared to stand against us.
Wiping my face as clean as I can when I hear footsteps, I force myself to sit up. Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I ignore my rolling stomach and the weakness in my mind as the door opens, admitting him.
It shuts behind him, and he turns on the lights, blinding me for a moment as he wanders closer, stopping before my bed.
We stare at each other. I kneel while he stands, and it mirrors what happened earlier tonight, or I suppose yesterday. Now, though, he’s in control and he knows it. The power has gone to his head.
Did he always want this?
How long have they been planning to take us?
Did we trust them with our bodies and pleasure even as they plotted against us?
Knowing his hands touched me, the very ones that ended my mother’s life, makes me want to throw up, but I keep it in.
“There is no escaping us now, Elara,” the male sneers, his voice echoing around my private room that they turned into a prison.
I was surprised that they didn’t want the succubi to witness my violation and humiliation.
It would surely do well to break them and keep them in line, but the males of this court were never smart, hence why they weren’t a true threat . . .
Or so we thought.
Our confidence was our downfall, and because of it, my life lies in ruins. My family is gone, my title was stolen, and my home was ravaged and tainted.
All that I had are only memories now, every jewel and silk gown in this room a wicked reminder of what I deemed crucial before this.
Now, all I want is freedom—freedom and revenge.
“You dare use my name,” I hiss, sitting up in the Chinese silk sheets I spent months selecting.
My chain hisses like a snake, slithering mockingly as I move.
I am nothing more than a toy to them when I was once everything.
My bejewelled corset and underwear leave little to the imagination and are meant to dishonour and shame me, but my body has never been something to cover.
If they think stripping me of my clothes, title, and jewels would weaken me, then they are wrong.
My body is a temple.
The power of the title lies within me, not the spoken words.
I am rethia.
“You forget, rethia . . .” He mockingly uses my title as he speaks. What was once sacred is now a joke. “You are no longer in charge. You have no title here. You are ours now, and you will obey.”
“Me? Obey?” My smirk is vicious. “Never. You can take my body, home, and bloodline, but you will never take my strength. Do your worst, false king, and when you are through, I will still be a queen.”
His grin is suggestive and cruel as he reaches for his belt, heading my way. “Let’s see, shall we? Feel free to keep calling me king, but you will use my name when it is just us, reitha. You will scream it. Gregory. Now let me remind you.”
He undoes his trousers and climbs onto the bed. There is nowhere to run, so I do not even try. I will not show him weakness.
I can handle what’s coming.
I have to for every woman out there enduring the same thing.
I must be strong enough to survive and save them.
The hands stained within my mother’s blood rip at my clothes as he pushes me back to the silk and, in the bed that was once my sanctuary, he defiles me. The pain is unlike any other I have ever felt . . . before it turns to pleasure.
The feeling makes me sick.
He wants me to enjoy it, and that makes it so much worse.
He uses my body against me, exploiting his knowledge of it to make me come, and when I do and tears silently fall down my cheeks, he smiles knowingly.
There is a difference between when I chose to fuck this man and when he fucks me without my consent, but he doesn’t care.
It is not my fault, and even though I came, it’s still rape.
I repeat it over and over as he groans his own release and slumps into me, his head on my chest as I stare up at the ceiling.
“My beautiful Elara, I will keep you safe. I will give you everything you ever wanted as long as you do as I say,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss over my heart as if it’s his to take.
Wrapping my arms around him, I swallow back my bile. “You promise?” I whisper, playing into his game. It’s clear he wants me to want him. He’s deluded, but I can use it to get what I want.
“I promise, Elara. You’ll see. I’ll be so good to you. This will be so much easier for you now without the weight of having to lead. I saw it weighing down on you. I’ll save you. I’ll always save you.” He grows hard inside me and starts to move. I hold him in my arms as he rapes me all night.
When he finally sleeps, I watch him and consider every single way I will torture and kill this man.
It will be public, I will ensure that, but before then, I will make him feel the same agony I am feeling.
He will regret the day he dared to stand against me.
Days pass like this. I am locked away like a stolen treasure and pampered.
He brings me gifts and food and touches me like I’m special.
I hate it, and when he leaves, I scrub my body and throw up until I can’t taste him anymore, but whenever he returns, I play along like I’m glad to see him, all while I scheme.
He’s lying beside me, half asleep. My thighs are still covered in bruises and his cum, and I have to focus on anything but the feeling or I will scream and never stop. “How are my—your people?” I correct, wincing at the slip-up. “I miss the court. Is everything okay?”
“You do not need to worry about that anymore,” he replies, and I hesitate.
If I keep pushing, he might become angry, but I need to know.
I need to get out of this room as well. I cannot do shit from here.
Closing my eyes, I harden myself and then swing my body up and over, straddling him.
His eyes open as I smile sweetly down at him.
“You’re right. Haven’t I pleased you tonight though?
” Leaning down, I sweep my tongue up his neck to his ear.
“You said if I was good, I could have anything I wanted.” His hands grip my hips, dragging me over his rapidly hardening cock, and I shiver in disgust, but he thinks it’s want and he groans.
“Can I go with you when you check on everything tonight? I want some fresh air.”
His hand wraps around my throat, and my eyes widen as he squeezes. “You think I’m a fool?”
I shake my head, fighting the loss of oxygen.
“You wish to escape?” He looks furious as I feel my face changing colour as my lungs scream for air. He could kill me without even meaning to, but he releases me, and I gasp before I shake my head again.
“No, of course not. I don’t want to escape. I don’t wish to leave you, my king,” I purr as I curl into him, still shaking from how close I came to dying. “I just wanted some fresh air and to be seen at your side. Don’t you want that?” I ask rapidly, my voice hoarse.
He hesitates, stroking my back like one pets a cat. “Hmm, true, and it might stop the others from rebelling.”
I bite back my reaction. This is the first information I have heard in days.
They are rebelling? Are they hurt? Gods, I need to get out of here and help them.
I lean up and kiss him softly. His eyes close, but I keep mine open as he groans.
“Then will you take me?” I ask quietly as I suck on his lip.
“You want to be seen with me? Then prove to me that you’re mine.” His hand presses on the top of my head, pushing me down to his erection.
My eyes close in anguish for a moment before I force a smile onto my lips.
I can do this.
It’s nothing he hasn’t done to me before.
It’s nothing I cannot survive.
I debate biting his cock off, but I give in instead. If he dies, another will only replace him, one that might not be as easy to manipulate. No, I need him for now. I need him to grow complacent, so I open my mouth and let him invade it.
I can still taste him. He didn’t allow me to have time in the bathroom to scrub my mouth, and I hate that I feel him there with each swallow.
It got me what I wanted though. I walk just behind him, my chain attached to his hip like a leash.
He walks confidently, proudly, as I follow in his wake, naked and covered in his marks—an ownership brand, he said, as he forced each one on me.
The court feels empty, cold, and desolate.
Men with guns patrol the halls, ones we thought we were safe to let in, but we were wrong.
The worst change is the removal of the paintings of our women and my family.
All of them are gone.
The walls are stained where the paintings once were, as if this court will never forget the grave sins that were committed here.
They wear marks like I do. When the throne room doors open, I step inside, and horror clenches my insides.
Women are chained to men, and some are being used, but it’s the emptiness in their eyes that’s the worst.
They are giving up.