Chapter Thirteen
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Henri
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I SLAMMED TO A STOP as I entered the gardens.
Not because of the beauty of trees and plants, all pruned and tamed within an inch of their natural life.
Not because of the many jewels leashed by their collars with golden cuffs glinting.
And not because of the many men standing in a mixture of suits and loungewear, their eyes fixed on whatever slave they’d commandeered for the morning.
I froze because of her.
Naked.
Cuffed and collared.
Huddled on bare knees before the man I suddenly very, very much wanted to kill.
Fuck.
Me.
There was a unique difference between touching and looking.
Both were intimate in different ways.
I’d touched her. Fingered her. Almost been inside her.
Yet seeing her?
Naked.
Kneeling.
Subservient.
Her captured beauty shattered my black-tainted mind.
I couldn’t stop sick fucking possession whipping through me.
Mine.
She’s mine.
The way she kept her legs glued together. The way she cupped her full breasts. The way her honey skin flushed a delectable red as she tried to hide from greedy eyes. She tipped her chin down, blocking her face with a curtain of raven hair.
The hint of a tattoo I’d seen back in the nightclub ran down the length of her spine. Delicate and narrow, it looked like a wand capped with a gemstone. The gemstone cast out flecks of flowers, stars, and raindrops, cascading down her ribs before scattering into nothing.
She was beyond stunning.
Undoubtedly the most gorgeous creature I’d ever seen, and I would never get her out of my head.
Never.
The expensive selection of clothes I’d found in the suite’s wardrobe bit into me with teeth. I felt trapped. Imprisoned. My flesh sizzled beneath the white shirt and black shorts as hunger so violent, so savage blazed through me.
I’d never felt anything like it.
Never buckled beneath the primordial need to thump my chest, tear out the hearts of competition, and claim a girl I’d only just met.
I wanted her more than I’d wanted anything in my godforsaken life.
I wanted to grab the leash that’d been snapped onto her collar, land on my knees behind her, and sink myself so deep, so damn hard inside her, she knew exactly who she belonged to, not just for now, but for fucking always.
“Ah, Henri. There you are.” Victor threw me a grin, his hand twining in the leash binding Ily to him. “I wondered if you’d gotten lost wandering the corridors.”
It took every shred of my control.
Every damn strength as I swallowed back the monstrosity inside me and pasted on an uncaring grin.
“I admit I got lost once or twice.” Striding toward him where he sat at a metal table with a half-eaten almond croissant and a forgotten coffee before him, I rested my hands on the back of a spare chair.
“You’ve spared no expense in the suites and living quarters, but the corridors remind me of some ancient prison with their oppressive stone, arrow slits, and burning torches. ”
Fuck, Ri.
Don’t insult the man.
I tensed, hoping I hadn’t said the wrong thing, but Victor merely laughed.
“If Ily had permission to talk right now, I’m sure she’d tell you that that’s exactly what I fashioned my hallways off.
Linlithgow Palace to be exact.” He gave me a conspiratorial smirk.
“It was a dream of mine to fashion a place where only the deepest, darkest blackness can survive. For example...” He smiled at the beaming sun.
“We sit outside on this gloriously sunny day, yet...head downstairs to the dungeons, and you would think you were in a world where no light exists at all. A place where no one can see what we do. A place with no judgement because there’s no light in which to condemn. A perfect metaphor...don’t you think?”
I couldn’t reply.
I hadn’t paid any attention to his disgusting bragging since the moment he’d hinted Ily had been disciplined.
Her head slowly lifted when I didn’t speak.
Her sunshine eyes met mine.
I choked on a surge of fury as my gaze landed on her cheek.
No longer flawless.
Her cheek bloomed bright red with the clear indication of four fingers and a thumb, casting her in punishment.
My hands curled around the chair. “You hit her?”
Victor sighed dramatically and yanked the leash, making Ily tip forward with a small groan. “She was being mouthy as usual. I did warn her that my leniency would come to an end. I can’t have her breaking my rules in front of the other jewels. They might get ideas.”
“Ideas?”
“Ideas that they can get away with insubordination.” Pointing at the chair I currently throttled, he said, “Sit, Ward. Eat. We have much to discuss.” Not waiting for me to obey, he looked at the audience ringing us.
“My treasured friends, please...if you will. Allow me some time to welcome our latest guest and present him with his jewel. Once he has established dominance, I will have him parade her for your entertainment.”
Ily hissed something.
I stiffened as Victor glowered at her. “Say something, sweetling?”
Her shoulders swooped back, pride jutting her breasts out even as self-preservation tried to curl in and hide.
Whatever she’d said, she didn’t repeat.
And a sick part of me was disappointed.
She was courageous and venom-tongued. I expected she’d rebel louder and longer than she had. Had I read her wrong? Where was her fight that fed me? Where was the bold disregard to her safety? Surely a simple slap hadn’t tamed her that quickly?
If it has, you should thank your lucky stars.
If she stayed meek and docile, I wouldn’t have to fight my true nature.
I could remember why I was here and do my best to protect her instead of war against the very real, very sick need to break her.
Exhaling slowly, I schooled my rabid heart rate. Silently, I pulled out the chair and sat.
“Is that everything for now, Sir V?”
My eyes snapped to the male slave’s face. Peter, I believed. His skin said he hailed from exotic lands, but his voice echoed with English cadence.
“Yes, yes, you presented her well,” Victor muttered. “I’m assuming she’s clean? Inside and out? Ready to fulfil her duties?”
“She is disease-free and received contraception, Sir V. I personally oversaw her bathing and preparation, as requested.” Peter tipped his chin, his face carefully unreadable. “She is ready to do whatever you wish her to do.”
“Excellent.” Shoving the leather leash into my hand, he smiled. “You may go then. I believe Master U has just woken up and requested your personal services. Go find him and get on your knees.”
“Yes, Sir V.” Peter bowed, kept his eyes down, and left the patio, heading toward the castle.
I twisted the leash in my hands, highly aware I could jerk Ily toward me with a single yank. The symbolism of ownership did its best to scramble my soul.
I tried to catch her eyes, to see that fight within her, but she kept her gaze locked on her knees. Her breathing heavy and hard, bristling with anger she couldn’t hide.
Stroking my thumb over the leather cord connecting us, I asked, “Why does he obey without a single argument?” I leaned back in my chair to avoid the sudden flurry of waitstaff as plates full of rock melon, strawberries, muffins, and ice-sweating cheese were placed in front of me.
Victor waited until the small banquet had been delivered before pulling out a remote similar to the one he used to scramble Ily’s cellphone back at the club.
My mind shot to my birdcage cufflinks. I’d left them on my bedside table, unable to tell if the signal had slipped through Victor’s technology and alerted Q to this monster’s lair.
“He obeys because he knows what happens if he doesn’t.” Victor passed me the remote. “This little device is all you need.”
I accepted it with a shrug. “Looks innocent enough.”
“Press it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why? What does it do?”
“You’ll find out. Press it.” He grinned and grabbed a piece of cheese. Biting off the end, he smiled. “You wanted to come here, and I’ve let you. You wanted to know how to be free, and I’m about to show you. Press it.”
My thumb hovered over the button.
I shot a look at Ily whose silence fucked me off and freaked me out in equal measure.
“Do you want to be free or not?” Victor coaxed. “Don’t make me regret my invitation, Henri. Do it.”
With gritted teeth, I stabbed the button.
Ily screamed.
A piercing, screeching scream.
She fell sideways, her hands curled into spasming claws, her neck straining, belly flexing, limbs twitching as if possessed.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
A ripple of chuckles echoed around the garden.
Men who hadn’t dispersed watched Ily twitching and jerking, her legs wide and body on full display.
The crush of their desire oozed from a mixture of races, ages, and depravity.
A few had a jewel beside them, collared and leashed with an array of marks on their pretty skin.
Teeth marks on one. Whip lashes on another.
A full-body shudder wracked me as I drowned in awful craving.
I wanted, no, I fucking needed to mark Ily that way.
To claim ownership so they would never get near her.
She was beautiful.
Beautiful in the throes of such agony.
Stunning in the clutches of surrender.
Her screams cut off with a choke.
I couldn’t hide my shudder as she writhed by my feet.
Her eyes met mine. Wide and brimming with terror.
It smashed apart the sickening spell.
I turned deathly cold.
Fuck!
What the hell am I doing?
Smashing my thumb against the button, Ily flopped into suffocating stillness.
Soaring upward, my chair fell back with a loud clang as I dropped to my haunches and dragged her into my arms.
She moaned but didn’t fight.
She flinched but didn’t push me away.
Her head lolled over my arm and her hair stuck to her finger-painted cheek.
My voice was inhuman. “Are you oka—”
“Kneel, Ily,” Victor commanded. “Don’t sprawl over your Master. Kneel.”
A twisting in my gut.
A snarling in my soul.
I loosened my hold on her just a little. I’d kill her if I didn’t. I’d crush her. Suffocate her with how much I wanted to save her.