Chapter 8
Dalton
I thought that during our trip back to New York we’d get to know each other better, go on a date during the layover, or maybe even fuck, since Corvus was clearly satisfied enough with my performance to keep me alive. That has to count for something.
Instead, he left me with their butler, and I got a more reasonable change of clothes.
We then travelled in a helicopter and could barely hear one another over all the noise.
On the private jet, Corvus slept the whole way through in some kind of relaxation pod I didn’t know existed.
At least I got to have a nice meal on the plane, which after days in a cell was pure bliss.
I counted on conversation on the way from the airport at least, but a tension filled the air between us, and Corvus didn’t seem to want to speak much in the driver’s presence.
By the time we drive into Manhattan, my stomach is in knots, but my heart elated.
I was half-expecting Corvus to live in the penthouse of a skyscraper, but the limo stops in front of a row of brownstones.
Unlike its neighbors, the house Corvus leads me toward has dark curtains covering all windows, but other than that it doesn’t differ from the others much.
It has the same ironwork fence around a small patch of greenery at the front, the same bars in the semi-basement windows, and the same steps leading to the entrance.
I step through the threshold of where I was told I’d be staying (I didn’t argue), too stunned to think straight.
In under twenty four hours, I’ve moved from a cell under the Van der Horn mansion, about to be shot dead and never seen again, to being engaged to Corvus and getting to live with him? Maybe I did die and go to heaven?
Everything is pitch black until Corvus switches on the light, revealing a hallway and stairs with an intricately-carved bannister.
The herringbone parquet floor feels a bit old-fashioned, but the dark wallpaper is anything but.
Large leaves and vines in dark teal climb up to the black ceiling, and I gravitate inside, my eyes trained on a marble hand reaching out from the wall and holding a lightbulb.
I open my mouth, about to praise Corvus’s taste in decor (even though all the crows, skulls, and moths looking at me from the gallery wall freak me out a bit), but before I can face him, jolts of burning ice pass through my body, and everything goes dark.
I vaguely remember being dragged and pain enveloping my body like an electrical snare. I’m still dazed, my muscles twitch, but I’m catching my breath as I open my eyes to light that is too white and too bright.
Did he… did he taze me?
My limbs are all wobbly as I struggle to sit up, but I’m too big of a guy to let this stop me. I swear I noticed movement in the corner of my eye a second ago, but now as I blink away the confusion, the reality in front of me is immobile and very, very sharp.
Just like in that underground room where Corvus led me out of the cell, this is undoubtedly a place for torture.
It smells of bleach, Corvus’s tools of the trade adorn the wall next to a steel table reminiscent of those at the hospital, and the gray walls are covered with large tiles, for easy cleanup.
Is this what he’s into?
Will he keep me here like an animal until he’s bored, and then disposes of me?
I must have really been dazed because I only now realize I’m in a cell even smaller than the one I was in before. This one doesn’t have walls, just floor-to-ceiling bars of steel.
I’m gonna be sick and I’m starting to regret the delicious steak I had on Corvus’s dime.
“I know this isn’t convenient.” His voice feels like a leash, and I stiffen, focusing on the dark corner, where my captor sits in an old leather-upholstered chair.
Corvus is wearing black joggers and a T-shirt featuring some kind of bald monster with long claws.
His body language speaks of fatigue as he exhales, pinning me with that blue gaze, which now resembles the glint of a blade.
I have no words to describe how I’m feeling, so I let him continue in the same monotone. “My home isn’t equipped for guests. You will need to stay here until I prepare something better.”
I squeeze my fingers on the bars, staring him down despite the precarious position I’m in.
“You fucking tazed me! What the fuck’s going on?
” My blood pressure is spiking by the second, but unlike my usual agenda of punch first, think later, all I can think of is him under me, squirming on my dick but begging for more.
It’s so confusing I don’t know what to do with myself, because he’s out of my reach.
Corvus shifts his weight, resting both elbows on his thighs as he leans forward, handsome face devoid of the passion we shared for those brief moments together.
He’s a fucking psycho.
“What did you expect? That I’ll just invite you to my bed, like you couldn’t murder me in my sleep?”
I blink, holding on to the thick bars. I try to pry them open, but it’s no use. They’re steel. This isn’t even a cell, but a cage. A cage, like the ones they keep animals in.
Despair worms its way into my heart, but I summon all the reason I can and meet his gaze. “But… you brought me here as your fiancé. I thought—”
A scowl passes over Corvus’s features. “I just paid for your life. A million, and some interest, and I’m not letting that go to waste when you decide it’s time to run.”
A slimy feeling settles in my stomach. “I’m not a pet to be bought and kept.
If this is how you see me, you might as well grab a crossbow yourself and be done with it.
” A bluff, since I don’t actually want to die, but just because I’m a gambler, doesn’t mean I’m a good one.
I’m too angry to care about consequences.
Corvus cocks his head. “No. You’re an investment. I saved you, because the dicking was good, so you better keep that up,” he said, clipping his words as the muscles in his neck twitch.
His words shouldn't hurt as much as they do. Sure, I pride myself on being a good lover. Lord knows that’s one of the few things I’m good at, but to have it thrown in my face like that? As if it’s the only use I can have to him?
I stare into his eyes imagining all the ways in which I can make him flush and squirm.
But that’s what he wants, so my feelings become a tangle of snakes in my gut.
I shouldn’t want him to like me, I shouldn’t care, but I don’t just have the hots for him, I’m eager for his attention and approval.
Like when I had a crush on Anthony Lambeth back in high school and would do anything for him to give me the time of day.
Like Corvus, he was rich, handsome, and an asshole.
A combination I apparently find hard to resist.
“Let me get this straight. You’re saying you’ll keep me here and pull me out when you want sex? Like I’m some fuck machine on your command?”
Corvus places his hands on the cracked leather of the armrests and squeezes them.
“No need to be so dramatic. Within days, you will be moved to a large room with its own ensuite. You will be fed, have access to gym equipment, and any entertainment you might want. Considering that without me, you would be in a giant pot for defleshing, I think you got the best possible outcome out of it all.”
“A glorified prison,” I snarl. “Is this for life or just until my dick stops working?” I drill holes into his skull with my gaze as I extend my arm out for a better gauge of how far I can reach.
Call me an idiot, but I kinda thought we’d have a good time when he called me his fiancé, not whatever this is.
Corvus shrugs. “It is a prison. But if you prove yourself, and I decide you can be trusted, we can rethink this arrangement at a later date.”
Since I can’t reach him with my hands, I’ll try with my words. “You don’t want to do this. I’ll forget the tazing, and give you a chance to start this over. You were so hot, moaning my name last night. You think I’m going anywhere when your lips and ass are on the table?”
For the first time since we left the van der Horn mansion, I see Corvus’s mask slip. His lips open, and his eyes relax as he looks at me, leaning forward, as if he longs for my hand in his hair.
Too bad it doesn’t last.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Corvus snaps, shooting to his feet and rushing toward the cage. He stops beyond my reach. “You’re not in charge here! And you will obey!”
I squint at him and spread my arms. I can’t even do that without hitting the bars.
“Or what? You’ll send me back? And what will you tell your family then, huh?
Until you let me out, this dick is closed!
” He could probably tempt me into forgetting that, but he doesn’t need to know how much he pushes my buttons.
Corvus shuts his eyes, exhales, and finally looks my way again, his wall of composure back in place.
“Suit yourself. We’ll see how long you last,” he says and points to the floor on the side of my cage, at a wooden tray piled high with snacks.
There is also a large bottle of water, and a big thermal cup. “Enjoy.”
My mouth waters at the selection, yet I’m tempted to kick the tray just to show him what I think of him. One deep breath later I slump to a pillow on the floor, still tired and aching. I won’t be eating until he leaves the room. I have at least that much dignity.
When Corvus walks out, all that’s left behind is his addictive smell. I could eat the fucker alive even now.