Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
SABLE
T orin growls his frustration but peels himself away from me, stalking toward the fire like a restless predator. He grabs a bottle of amber liquor from the low table near the hearth, pops the cork with his teeth, and takes a long, defiant swig. The flames cast flickering shadows over the sharp lines of his tattooed torso, making him look every bit the unhinged beast I know he is. I should feel relief that he’s finally put some distance between us, but his gaze catches mine over the rim of the bottle, dark and smoldering, and my stomach twists in a way I can’t quite explain.
Before I can catch my breath, the one in the suit's voice cuts through the silence like a blade.
“We’ll be having dinner in my quarters.”
I cross my arms, my chin lifting defiantly. “I’ll pass, thank you.”
His lips twitch into the faintest smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That wasn’t a request. It was a demand. You’ll come because you need to understand just what your place is here. Don’t let your accommodations confuse you—you are still very much our prisoner.”
My stomach twists, not with fear, but with anger. “And if I don’t?” I challenge, even though I know the answer.
Ghost leans casually against the wall, rolling a silver ring between his fingers, the glint of it catching the firelight. “Stubborn, isn't she, Kael?” he murmurs, almost like it’s a compliment.
I turn back to the one Ghost called Kael—their leader. His name settles in my mind like a weight, heavy with authority. He stands tall, every inch of him radiating control and precision. The tailored suit he wears is immaculate, a dark charcoal that molds perfectly to his broad shoulders and lean, muscular frame. Not a thread out of place, not a crease to be found, as though chaos itself bends to his will. His jet-black hair is swept back neatly, sharp cheekbones framing a face that looks like it was carved from stone—cold, unyielding, and painfully handsome.
His eyes, though, are what hold me captive. A striking, icy blue, they cut through the dim firelight, piercing and unrelenting. They assess me with an unnerving calm, like he’s already calculated every possible move I could make and decided how best to counter it. There’s a faint shadow of stubble along his jawline, giving him a rugged edge that contrasts with his polished demeanor. Power clings to him, tangible and suffocating, a force that feels as though it could crush me without him even lifting a finger. And yet, there’s a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, like he knows a secret about me I haven’t yet figured out.
Kael. A name that fits the man before me—lethal, refined, and impossible to ignore.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I snap, grasping for any excuse to hold onto the scraps of control I have left.
Ghost's smirk grows, and with a snap of his fingers, the air around me shimmers, rippling like water. The fabric of my clothing shifts and twists, slinking along my body like liquid silk until I’m left standing in a daring cocktail dress. Deep red, almost the color of blood, it clings to every curve, sculpting itself to me like it was poured on. My mouth falls open as I glance down, the neckline plunging scandalously low, exposing more skin than I’d ever willingly show. Thin straps crisscross over my shoulders and down my back, leaving most of it bare. The hemline is short, barely brushing the middle of my thighs, and it swishes provocatively with every tiny movement I make.
I shift slightly, feeling an unfamiliar weight at my feet. My boots are gone, replaced by towering stilettos, the same rich crimson as the dress, their pointed tips and delicate straps a far cry from the sturdy leather I’m used to. The shoes glint wickedly in the firelight, their impossibly high heels making me feel unsteady and vulnerable. It’s a calculated look—elegant, seductive, and designed to make me feel exposed. And it’s working.
“Perfect,” Torin says, and he’s suddenly in front of me, his sharp grin on full display. His eyes sweep over me, shameless, devouring every inch. “My little kitten cleans up nicely, doesn’t she?”
I stiffen as he circles me, his gaze making my skin prickle. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss.
He chuckles darkly, leaning in close, the scent of metal and something wild curling around me like a noose. “Oh, but you’ll like it when I do, I promise,” he purrs, his voice sinfully smooth, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. His next words are a whisper, meant just for me. “You’ll like it even more when we play. But don’t worry, I’ll wait until Alpha lets me have you.”
Alpha. The title confirms what I’ve suspected—Kael is the one in charge. It’s in the way they defer to him, the way they shift when he speaks, even Torin with his unhinged bravado. They call him Alpha because he’s their leader, their strongest, the one they all answer to. And from what I’ve seen so far, he knows it. It’s woven into the way he moves, the calm confidence of someone who’s never been bested.
I glare at Torin, my throat tightening with suppressed rage and something I refuse to name. But before I can spit a retort, Kael’s voice cuts through the air from behind him, smooth and commanding as always.
“Enough, Reaper. Back off.”
Torin grins, his fingers twitching like he’s itching for an excuse to ignore the command, but he steps back. Barely.
“You’ll excuse me if I skip your little dinner party,” I bite out, directing my anger at Kael now. His icy eyes meet mine, cool and unbothered, and he tilts his head slightly.
“You’ll come,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a dark smile. He leans in closer, his voice a low growl that drips with sinful intent. “In more ways than one, little huntress.”
The words send heat rushing to my face, but before I can snap back, his hand moves lazily, as if he’s plucking a thread from the air. Suddenly, the space around me shifts. It feels as though invisible cords wrap themselves tightly around my body, silken and inescapable, tugging me forward. My heart races as my feet move of their own accord, dragging me closer to the door.
My body jerks against my will, my feet dragging across the floor as I stumble to follow them. I try to fight it, digging my heels in, but it’s like trying to stop the tide. Kael flicks his wrist again, and the pull tightens, forcing me to keep pace as he strides toward the door.
“If you won’t come under your own power, you’ll come under mine,” he says, his tone calm but final.
Torin falls into step beside me, his movements fluid and predatory. He leans in close, the heat of him brushing against my skin. “Keep disobeying him,” he whispers, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. “The more you fight, the more likely they’ll give you to me. And oh, little kitten, I’d savor every second. I’d love to see what it takes to really break you. Would it be pain? Or maybe...” His lips brush near my ear, his voice a dark caress. “Maybe you’d beg for something else entirely.”
A shiver races down my spine, and to my horror, it’s not entirely from fear. His words are a trap, one that coils around my senses like a snake. My breath catches, and for a brief, shameful moment, an image flickers in my mind—his rough hands on my skin, those dark eyes devouring me.
What is wrong with me?
Anger surges, drowning the confusing ache building in my chest. I bite down on the desire threatening to unravel me, clenching my fists as if the motion alone can hold me together. I’ve spent years loathing warlocks, hunting them, swearing to destroy them. I won’t let some unhinged sadist mess with my head.
“Don’t hold your breath,” I manage, my voice sharp enough to cut, though the tremor in it betrays me.
Torin chuckles low and slow, a sound that’s both infuriating and maddeningly enticing. “Oh, I won’t. But you will, little kitten. You will.”
My jaw tightens as I force myself to focus on the room ahead, every step reminding me of the fight I have to win—not against him, but against myself.
We reach Kael’s quarters, though quarters is an understatement. The space feels like a grand hall, with vaulted ceilings and a long, dark wooden table set for a feast. A roaring fire bathes the room in golden light, and silver chandeliers overhead cast glimmers across the stone walls. The air smells of roasted meat and spiced wine, and my stomach betrays me, growling at the scent.
“Sit,” Kael commands, motioning to the head of the table. “We have much to discuss.”
I hesitate, my gaze flicking to Finn and Torin, who take their seats with an air of casual dominance. Finn lounges, swirling a goblet of wine, while Torin sits with one leg sprawled out, carving patterns into the table with a small knife.
Kael pulls out the chair across from me and sits with an effortless grace, his dark suit impeccable despite the day’s events. “You might as well eat. You’ll need your strength.”
I stay on my feet, crossing my arms. “Strength for what? Being your prisoner?”
His brow arches, and a ghost of a smirk touches his lips. “For answering questions. If you don’t, well…” He glances at Torin, who grins wolfishly.
“You’re lucky,” Torin says, leaning forward, the firelight catching the tattoos that snake up his neck. “I’ve been told I’m very persuasive. Shouldn't take long, unless you want it to.”
I shoot him a glare, finally sitting, if only to stop the conversation from spiraling further. My hands curl into fists on my lap as I try to ignore Torin’s leering grin and Finn’s sharp, watchful gaze.
Kael picks up his goblet, tilting it toward me slightly, the firelight catching the sharp angles of his face. “Let’s begin with introductions. I am Kael, and these are my brothers, Finn and Torin. Occasionally, we go by our tribe names—Alpha, Ghost, and Reaper,” he adds with a faint smirk, his gaze locking on mine. “But since you’re not part of the tribe, I wouldn’t expect you to address us like that. You, little huntress, may stick to our given names. For now.”
Torin grins wickedly, leaning forward just enough to make me uncomfortable. “Unless you’re begging. Then I might make an exception.”
“Torin,” Kael says without looking at him, his voice a quiet warning.
Torin raises his hands in mock surrender, though his grin never falters. “Fine. But I bet she’d sound sweet saying it.”
Finn, the one Kael called Ghost, rolls his silver ring between his fingers, his sharp eyes assessing me like a puzzle he can’t quite solve. “She hasn’t given her name yet,” he murmurs, his tone softer but no less dangerous. “Isn’t that a little rude, huntress?”
I press my lips together, my heart hammering in my chest. Their presence is suffocating, each of them radiating a different kind of menace. Yet there’s something magnetic about them, too—something I despise as much as I can’t seem to ignore.
“I don’t see why you need to know it,” I say finally, forcing my voice to steady. “It’s not like I’m staying.”
Kael’s smirk widens, but his eyes remain cold and calculating. “Oh, you’ll stay. One way or another. But let’s make this easier on everyone, shall we?” His voice drops, smooth as silk. “What’s your name?”
I hesitate, the name catching in my throat. “Sable.”
Kael repeats it slowly, testing the word on his tongue. “Sable. A fitting name for a huntress.”
My pulse quickens. How much do they know? How much have I given away?
Kael sets the goblet down, folding his hands in front of him. “Now, Sable. Tell me—what are you?”