Chapter 37

Pulling away from Aric, I stepped back. Even if I hadn’t spent the last forty-seven days being tortured, starved, and fed on, I would have had trouble processing the news that I wasn’t quite mortal and that I didn’t have a normal lifespan.

Then again, there was a good chance that Aric was lying just to mess with my head in a rather creative form of torture.

“I can tell by the dumb look on your face you have no idea what a mortuus is or how it plays into what I need,” he said.

And, yep, that was as offensive as it sounded.

“I’m not all that surprised. You’ve forgotten my plans, and it is doubtful that Caden would ever share with you what mortuus means. ”

The cogs and wheels in my brain finally started turning. “I don’t see how I can be his mortuus. I don’t—”

“You don’t know anything, my pet. But your knowledge isn’t what makes you valuable.” Aric turned to the slab with an air of flourish. “Come. You must eat and then bathe.”

I didn’t move. “I want to know why you think I’m his—” My words ended in a shriek.

Aric moved so fast that I couldn’t track him.

Suddenly, he was in front of me, his hand clamping around the nape of my neck.

“I don’t care what you want to know. I don’t care if you’re confused or even if you believe me.

” His grip tightened, forcing my head back as his fingers tangled in my hair.

Pain flared along my scalp, but it was nothing compared to what I was used to.

“All I care about at this moment in time is for you to not cause me any problems. Do you understand me?”

Fury ripped through me like a tornado, and any plans I had of keeping him happy jumped right out the window. Jaw locked, I met his gaze and said nothing.

“Do not make me ask you again. You will not like what happens if you do, and I am confident that you think you know what I’m capable of, but you have no idea.” The alabaster skin seemed to thin over his bones. “I need you alive, but there are far worse things than a slow death.”

There wasn’t a single part of me that doubted what he promised, and common sense dictated that I answer him. It was just one word. Yes. I had a dagger, and I just needed to get him alone. Fighting him now wasn’t going to help.

It was just one word, but it was about control and stripping away every ounce of free will I had without glamouring me.

It was all about submission and humiliation, tiny acts stacked upon each other, and each one carrying the weight of shame and dread until I collapsed under them.

Until I was truly bent and broken, and all that was left of me belonged to him.

It was just one word, but he hadn’t broken me yet.

I lifted my chin, met his stare, and said nothing.

Aric’s lips curved up on one side. “I could almost respect you.”

The punch connected before I could even formulate a response, catching me in the stomach and doubling me over.

I tried to suck in air, but it was like my entire chest had seized up.

Gagging, I struggled to lift my arms as the years of training dictated, but he was too fast, and I was too tired and hungry and weak.

The next blow took me to the floor, and then… there was nothing but pain.

I didn’t know how long it lasted or how many blows he delivered. At some point, I thought I might’ve blacked out because when I opened my eyes—no, my one eye—his blurry face had replaced his fists.

He was staring down at his hand. “You’ve dirtied my knuckles with your blood.”

A hoarse laugh parted my lips. It was slightly crazed-sounding to my ears, but then again, there was a strange ringing in them now, so who knew.

His head tilted to the side. “Glad you find that amusing, but I’m sure it won’t be as funny to watch you try and eat with those busted lips.”

Eat? I almost laughed again because the beating had pretty much knocked the hunger right out of me. I wasn’t even sure my jaw would work. I tentatively moved it, wincing as sharp pain darted around my skull. It hurt like holy hell but, impossibly, the bones seemed intact.

No longer simply mortal.

Could Aric be telling the truth? And if so, was that why I was still alive without a multitude of broken bones? The questions did matter.

Aric grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet. Pain flared along my ribs. “Eat and then bathe. I do not have all day.”

He shoved me toward the slab, and I stumbled, catching myself on the side of the stone near where the dagger was hidden in the shadows.

I focused on what I planned to do with that dagger as I lifted my head, dizzy. Aric strode toward the platter, lifting the lid. It was beef in some kind of stew like before.

“It’s grown cold,” he remarked. “If you hadn’t delayed things, it would’ve been a worthwhile meal. Eat.”

Slowly, I inched my way toward the food and reached out—

The slap nearly toppled me over. Skin stinging, I drew back my hand. Nausea rose as I stared at the food.

Aric sighed. “You will never learn, will you? Even with the Summer Kiss, you’re as stupid and mindless as any other mortal. Eat,” he spat. “And do it in a hurry.”

I didn’t move, not until he went over to the doorway.

I’d forgotten that the female was in the room.

With distance between us, I hesitantly reached for the meat, knowing that he could move fast. When he didn’t, some of the tension eased from my shoulders.

Without a fork or knife, all I had were my fingers, and I used them, eating what was provided even though each bite hurt, and I was no longer hungry.

I ate because I knew I needed the strength.

Cutting off a head wasn’t going to be easy.

Before I finished, the copper tub was brought in and filled up, and I added those two male fae to my To Kill list. The female was already on it.

The plate was taken away, and I knew what was coming next.

Aric would glamour me so I didn’t put up a fight, and then he’d feed.

Between the two, I ran the risk of forgetting the discovery of the dagger.

I knew I couldn’t prevent him from feeding, but I could prevent the glamour, and if history were any indication, he’d return to me alone and then… .

Then I would kill him.

But the dress.

I glanced at it. The dress could mean that his schedule would change. That he wouldn’t feed, or that he wouldn’t return alone.

I couldn’t risk not trying to keep some of my wits about me.

So, I did what I had to the very second the female fae approached me with her damn tote. Focusing on the tub, I didn’t give myself time to dwell on what I was doing as I reached up and grabbed the thin straps on the shift, shimmying them down my arms.

Aric made a soft sound, alerting me to the fact that he was paying attention. “Aren’t you eager to strip bare?”

The statement wasn’t worth a response.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen me naked, and at this point, what was there to see but scars and skin? That’s what I kept telling myself as I stepped into the tub. The water wasn’t frigid, more like room temperature, which was a vast improvement.

I sank down quickly, seeking the little privacy the wall of the tub provided.

Bathing with the chain still attached to my neck wasn’t exactly the easiest thing.

The female got to work, as gentle as a wild boar as she scrubbed at my raw and bruised skin.

I found myself staring at the dress where it lay waiting on the slab.

Aric had moved closer. “I didn’t tell you why you’d be wearing such an exquisite gown, did I?”

The female yanked my head back as she lathered the strands with lavender-scented soap.

“You will find out soon enough, and I have a feeling you’ll be pleased.”

Doubtful.

A sense of deja vu swept through me. The Ancient fell silent, and my mind wandered, sifting through foggy memories as the female fae finished up.

There was something he’d told me while I was bathed before.

I’d been glamoured, but I’d been aware of what was happening.

Images surfaced of Aric kneeling in front of the tub, his white shirt dotted with water.

He’d told me something. Something about the mortuus and—

My head was dunked without warning, and when I resurfaced, I sputtered as I gripped the rim of the tub.

My thoughts were effectively scattered. There was nothing of any value floating around in my head anymore as I was yanked from the tub and then roughly dried off.

The gown was lifted over my head, the fabric settling around me.

I caught the two sides of the chest as it began to gape.

There were laces along the back, left undone.

The material of the dress felt indulgent, and it pooled like liquid around my feet.

Even in the poorly lit chamber, I could tell that the fabric played peekaboo with what was hidden beneath, and I imagined that in brighter light or in the sun, there would be little left to the imagination.

Siobhan had worn this to her wedding? In front of people?

“The gown complements you, my pet.” Aric jerked his chin toward the female. “That is all.”

My heart seized as the fae gathered up her tote and scurried from the chamber, closing the door behind her. I knew what normally came next.

Holding the front of the dress closed, I stepped back.

Aric’s gaze roamed over me as he approached. “With your hair, you could almost be mistaken for her.” He walked behind me, lifting the chain. “Hold this.”

Swallowing down a wave of trepidation, I shifted the front of the gown to one hand and took hold of the chain with the other. Aric in front or behind me was equally bad.

“She was beautiful.” His fingers brushed over my back as he picked up the laces, causing the sensation of a thousand spiders crawling over my skin to surface.

“Stunning in her silver gown…and out of it.” There was a pause as he began tying the back.

“Siobhan was always beautiful, even when she cried. Loosen your grip on the front.”

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