Chapter Eleven – Evelynn
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVELYNN
He was angry. I could feel it as soon as he entered my room. The way he cradled me in his arms was like I was something delicate. Precious. Feeding me and taking care of me. All of it was a mind-fuck.
He’d been gone for hours. I hadn’t dared move from his bed for fear he would return angry. I’d felt it before; I did not want to be on the receiving end of it again. No matter how hard I tried to fight it, my bladder persistently protested. I couldn’t wait a moment longer.
I climbed out of his bed, my legs weak and shaking. I had to hold on to the bedframe for support. Each step was a struggle, a challenge. My body was still incredibly weak, but thankfully, I managed to make it to the bathroom and relieve myself without any accidents.
As I’m washing my hands, I hear the bedroom door open.
“Evelynn?” he calls out. “Fuck!” he roars, making me jump.
I make my way to the bathroom door and open it. He spins around at the sound, amber eyes flaring, hands clenched tight at his sides. His gaze rakes over me, as if making sure I’m really here.
“I thought you had gone,” he rasps.
“I had to pee,” I say softly as I begin to make my way down the steps. My eyes stay fixed on my footing, forcing every muscle in my body to hold me steady.
I feel his hand glide around my waist as he bends down, scooping me up in his arms. My hands clutch his shoulders, and a sudden gasp escapes my lips.
“I can walk, you know,” I inform him, taking in the details of his face: sharp jaw, dark hair, that mouth. Everything about him is perfect, as if the gods had created him by hand.
“I am aware, but you are still weak, and I don’t want to deal with you hurting yourself further,” he says as he places me back in his bed.
“Careful. I would almost think you care,” I retort as he draws the silk sheets over me.
He pauses, those goddamn eyes burning into mine. “Whatever made you think I didn’t?”
“The torture chair. The way you said you wouldn’t care if I starved myself because it would save you a job. The fact that I’m still held prisoner, and you won’t let me leave. Even though I am of no use to you.” I pause. “To name but a few.”
I notice the corner of his mouth twitch, in annoyance or amusement, I’m not sure.
“I see a good meal has brought you back to your inquisitive self,” he says.
“Apologies. I’m sure you appreciated the quiet,” I quip.
This time there’s no mistaking it. He grins, gripping the sheets tight in his fists on either side of my hips. He leans in, his face a mere inch from mine.
“Oh, petal, quite the opposite. I rather missed your mouth,” he murmurs, his gaze briefly flicking to my lips before he stands and walks into the bathroom.
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
He steps out of the bathroom a moment later, shirtless, and climbs into the bed next to me, still in his jeans, lying on his back with his arms behind his head, his muscled torso stretched out on display.
“You’re sleeping in your jeans?” I ask in disbelief.
His eyes flicker to mine. “You didn’t like me naked,” he says.
I sigh. “I didn’t say I didn’t like you naked.”
He rolls onto his side, leaning on his elbow, his mouth tipping up at the corners. “So, you did like it?” he muses.
“No. I—” I stutter. “Do you know what, never mind.”
Huffing, I lie down and roll onto my side, keeping my back to him.
I hear him chuckle lightly as he rolls back over to sleep. I can’t help the small smile that plays on my lips as I close my eyes.
The room is silent, as this place always is. My eyes flicker open to see him sitting beside me, his gaze fixed on my face.
I inhale sharply. “Holy shit!” I press my palm to my chest. “Do you watch all your prisoners sleep?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep.
He doesn’t answer straight away. He just sits there, still watching me. Something has shifted. The air feels different.
“Only the ones that matter,” he says at last.
I push up on my elbow and look back at him, my eyes still heavy. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” he answers bluntly.
I study him, his face a mask, void of emotion. “Why?” I swallow. “Why me?”
He leans on his elbow, his index finger and thumb gliding across his bottom lip. “Because you saw too much.”
Suzie.
The thought of her almost feels like it happened in another lifetime. Images flash behind my eyes; the dying man in his arms, bodies on the party floor. Yes, I had seen too much. Too much I’d forgotten or shoved away, but that wasn’t it. You don’t hold a prisoner in your own room.
“That’s not what I mean.”
Silence stretches between us. My eyes flicker to his clenched fist on his lap.
“What happens when you lose control?” I press. He always looks like he’s restraining himself, like he’s holding something back.
“Things I cannot say. Things you do not want to know,” he says, his voice cold and threatening.
“You make it sound like I should be worried,” I point out.
The muscle in his jaw ticks. His fist tightens even more.
“You should be terrified,” he warns me.
His words wash over me like an ice-cold shower. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I push myself fully upright, his gaze tracking every movement.
“I’m not afraid of you, Lucian,” I say, using his name for the first time.
His lips part slightly at the sound of it.
“I heard that other guy call you that.” I shrug. “Nice to finally be able to put a name to the face.” I smirk, feeling slightly triumphant that I’ve managed to catch him off guard.
He quickly schools his features. “I’ve run you a bath,” he says, changing the subject.
“Oh,” I reply, not expecting that. “Thank you,” I add, pulling the sheets back and beginning to stand.
Lucian is there in an instant, scooping me up and carrying me to the bathroom.
“Lucian!” I protest.
He sets me on my feet beside the huge claw-foot tub filled to the brim with bubbles.
“You bathe. Then you will eat,” he orders before stepping out of the bathroom and pulling the door mostly closed.
I blink, unsure what just happened. I’ve been awake five minutes, and he’s already got me confused.
I may have stayed in that tub far too long, but I couldn’t care less.
As soon as the hot water caressed my aching body, I never wanted to leave.
I washed my hair as best I could with the ridiculous amount of bubbles he’d poured in, but I was beyond caring.
I didn’t know what my fate held for me, and the state of my hair was the least of my concerns.
I was just grateful for the chance to wash.
When the water finally turned cold, I forced myself out with a heavy sigh. I looked around for a towel, but couldn’t see one. The only thing there was a black satin robe.
It would have to do.
I spot a toothbrush and toothpaste set beside the sink for me, along with a hairbrush. I almost smile at the thoughtful gesture.
No. No, Evelynn. You are a prisoner here. This is not kindness, I remind myself.
Once my hair and teeth are brushed, I make my way out of the bathroom. I feel a lot stronger after eating, resting, and bathing. My stomach rumbles loudly as I enter the bedroom.
My eyes scan the room. He’s gone, but the door is left ajar.
I clench the robe in my fist at my chest and take quiet, tentative steps towards the door, looking around, expecting him to appear and chastise me.
My hand trembles as I reach for it. Opening it further, I peer into the dimly lit, stone-cold hall.
No windows. No sign of an exit or the outside world.
I bite anxiously at my bottom lip, my heart thundering in my chest. I move slowly down the hall, constantly looking over my shoulder.
The smell hits me; bacon and warm bread. My stomach growls in appreciation, the sound echoing off the stone walls as my feet follow the scent.
I stop at the end of the hall and slowly peer around the corner.
A huge archway opens into a spacious kitchen, with an antique wooden table surrounded by beautifully carved chairs. The table is filled with men—his men—talking and laughing. The one who is cooking turns and says something to another.
One I haven’t seen before.
His long black hair frames his face, and I can’t quite make out his features. He takes a sip of his drink, the colour coating his lips red.
It almost looks like… No. No, it can’t be.
My stomach growls angrily again, and his gaze snaps to me. His red eyes collide with mine, and I gasp, stepping back and stumbling into a hard chest.
Arms circle me.
“I thought the smell of food would tempt you out. Come, my pet. Eat.”
Lucian takes my hand in his and leads me into the room. My heart races even more erratically the farther we walk. All eyes land on us.
No, not on us.
On me.
I’m vaguely aware that I’m holding Lucian’s hand in an iron grip.
“Calm yourself, my little pet,” Lucian tries to soothe, but I find myself leaning closer to him for support. The man I should be most terrified of.
Oh, the fucking irony.
The one with the red eyes approaches us, his gaze taking in every inch of me, hunger flickering in his eyes for the briefest moment. He stops in front of us, his tongue gliding across his bottom lip.
This is it. I’m about to be brutally gang-raped. That’s the only reason they’ve been so nice. The bath. Oh God.
“Please don’t rape me,” I blurt out on a whimper.
The man with red eyes recoils, almost taking a step back.
“I would never,” he snarls.
“Look at me,” Lucian instructs.
I turn my head and look up at him. His hand still holds mine firmly while the other clasps my chin.
“No one will ever touch you or harm you. Understand me?” he hisses, the amber in his eyes burning furiously.
I give a small nod.
He releases my chin but keeps my hand securely in his. I swallow and look back at the one with the red eyes. He doesn’t have a cut on like the others.
“Sorry,” I mumble, fear and embarrassment washing over me. “I didn’t mean—”
The corner of his mouth curves slightly, and the red in his eyes glimmers. “Don’t worry yourself about it.”