The Summer King Bundle: 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Working on a dry swallow, I tipped my head back. Water would be nice, too. I was given enough to survive, but nowhere near enough to quench my thirst.

  A full-body dip in lidocaine would be great also.

  I sighed, not daring to move too much. The heavy chain pooled on the floor beside where I was propped up against the base of the stone slab. My wrists and ankles were always unlocked after the feeding, allowing me to roam as far as the chain would allow.

  Which wasn’t all that far.

  The only thing I knew was that Aric had no plans to kill me. At least not yet, and despite how…horrific all of this was, alive was better than dead.

  I kept telling myself that. Repeatedly.

  I probably shouldn’t be sitting on the floor, considering my body was one giant, open wound, and God only knew what kind of dirt and water was getting into the hundreds, if not thousands of tiny slices that covered nearly every inch of my body. I was probably going to contract some kind of flesh-eating bacteria.

  Dragging my gaze from the vines, I looked down at my legs and winced. Purplish bruises mottled the pale skin, left behind when Aric had bored of me fighting back and secured my legs and arms. They were all pretty gnarly, but they were by no means the worst. The cuts were worse.

  Dozens and dozens of them on each leg, on the front and the back, all methodically two inches long and carved into neat lines just a touch beyond shallow. My arms were the same. So were my chest and a good part of my back, which was why I was on the floor and not lying on the slab.

  The back…those were fresh.

  Another grumble echoed through my stomach. I’d thought I’d known what hunger pains felt like. I, of course, had been foolishly naive to think that skipping a meal could cause these gnawing, strong contractions that nearly doubled me over.

  I was starving, and thinking about food was surely the worst thing I could do. So, I focused on my butchered arms and counted the slices starting at my shoulder.

  One. Two. Three. Four….

  I hadn’t given Aric what he wanted. Not the first or the second time.

  Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen….

  I’d nearly cracked my molars from not screaming. But by the third time, Aric had started with the more sensitive areas first, and there hadn’t been any numbness to soften the shock to the system.

  Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven….

  When he cut along the back of my knees and elbows, I’d screamed.

  I’d screamed until my throat felt as raw as my skin.

  I stared at the smudges of dried blood as another shudder rolled through me. Aric had been right about something, though. No one had come when I screamed.

  Thirty-five. Thirty-six. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight….

  The next breath I took was shaky as I continued counting. Forty-one. Forty-two. Forty—

  Footsteps drew my attention and I jerked up my chin. He was back. Lurching to my feet, I winced as my skin stretched. The room swayed a little, a kaleidoscope of flames and gray walls as I steadied myself.

  The door swung open, and Aric strode in like he was taking a walk in a park and not strolling into a torture chamber. I wanted to shout at him, but I saw that he carried a white paper bag. I inhaled, catching a faint whiff of meat.

  My knees felt weak.

  “Look at you, standing when I arrive.” The door swung shut behind him. “I’m impressed.”

  All I could do was stare at the bag of food.

  Aric followed my gaze. “Hungry?”

  I didn’t nod or speak as he stopped a few feet from me.

  “Is that why you’re not lying in wait or pouncing on me like an inept buffoon?”

  I didn’t think my tactics were that of an inept buffoon, but he could say whatever he wanted as long as I got what was in that bag.

  “You are hungry.” Smirking, he unrolled the top of the bag and reached in, pulling out a loosely wrapped sandwich. “Sorry. I forgot how often you humans need to eat.”

  My mouth started to water.

  He peeled back the wrapper, revealing what appeared to be a breakfast sandwich. So, I’d been right. It was morning. “Actually, I didn’t forget.”

  Shocker.

  Stepping forward, he dipped his chin and smiled. Every muscle in my body locked up. Aric was…well, he was an Ancient fae. So, of course, he was strikingly handsome. And when he smiled, it transformed all those angles into something truly majestic.

  And something entirely evil.

  Because he smiled like that when he cut into my skin, and he grinned like that when I screamed. He beamed like he was right now when he led me outside, when it was too dark for me to get my bearings while I went to the bathroom.

  “I just want you to know that I control everything,” he said as if he were suggesting that I check out a new TV show. “When you’re awake. When you rest. When you expel. When you eat. I control your every waking second.”

  His words burst through my fog of hunger. Words rose to the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell him that even though he may control all of that, he still didn’t control me, but I was hungry, and I needed to eat so that I had some sort of strength. It would be stupid to mouth off, so I wisely kept said mouth shut even though it ate away at a part of me.

  Aric offered me the sandwich.

  I eyed him warily, resisting the urge to snatch it out of his hand.

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “It’s going to get cold, and I hear this stuff tastes even worse when it’s not hot. Be a good girl.”

  Hatred swarmed me, hot and heavy. The tips of my fingers itched to dig into his skin, to rip at his flesh. Pushing all of that down was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, but I managed to do just that as I reached out to take the food.

  The stinging blow seemed to come from nowhere, knocking me back. My legs went out from under me as the room spun. I went down, my knee cracking on the hard floor. Stunned by the taste of metal flooding my mouth, I planted my hands on the floor and lifted my chin.

  Aric wiggled the sandwich in my direction. “You didn’t say please.”

  * * * *

  Scratching at the slab with the tiny rock I’d found near the wall of vines at some point, I worked and worked until my fingers ached and cramped, but a thin line the length of the ones that marked my body eventually took form.

  My name is Brighton.

  Friends call me Bri.

  Tink has christened me Lite Bright.

  Caden calls me sunshine.

  My name is Brighton, and I will kill Aric.

  That was my mantra as I finished, dropping the stone and then counting with one functioning eye. The other was swollen shut.

  Thirteen. Thirteen days. I didn’t quite recall exactly when I started doing this or if I had counted the days before I had begun marking them into the stone, but thirteen days had passed. Knowing that seemed important.

  Just as important as forcing myself to remember who I was and why I was here every time I woke up and couldn’t…couldn’t recall a single thing.

  Almost as important as remembering that I would kill Aric.

  Footsteps echoed outside the tomb, causing my empty stomach to drop. I pushed the rock back so it was hidden and remained where I was, learning that it was safer to do so.

  The door inched open, revealing Aric. He carried food, a platter covered with plastic, but it did very little to stop the aroma of roasted beef wafting its way toward me. A grumble rattled my insides as dread exploded in my chest. The dueling reactions ratcheted up the unease. Sustenance shouldn’t equal fear, but it had begun to.

  But the fact that he had food wasn’t the only reason alarm rang its way through me like a siren.

  Aric wasn’t alone.

  Behind him was a female fae, and this was the first time anyone besides Aric had entered the tomb. And when he took me aboveground, I never saw a soul, even though I could hear traffic. The female was tall with a blunt, icy-blond haircut, and she carried something, as well. A tot
e.

  Was Aric going to let her get in on the fun of torturing the ever-loving hell out of me?

  Knowing my luck, probably.

  Aric approached me, kneeling down a foot away as the female stayed near the door. Smugness crept into his disgustingly handsome face, as did a sick look of pleasure. “How are you feeling today?”

  I said nothing as I glared at him.

  “You do not want me to ask you twice, little bird.”

  My wounded fingers spasmed as I croaked out, “Dandy.”

  He tilted his head. “I’m happy to hear that.”

  I’m sure.

  “You surprise me each day, you know? That you’re still alive, still there. It’s impressive.”

  “I live to impress you.” My gaze darted to the plate of food.

  His chuckle was low. “Hungry?”

  Every muscle in my body locked up as my eyes shifted back to him.

  “Oh. Are you not hungry?” He lifted his brows as he peeled back the plastic wrapping. “Here.” He held out the plate as I zeroed in on the meat. The hunk of beef sat in its own juices and looked so good, it made my stomach ache. “Take it.”

  On reflex, I reached up, touching the split in my lower lip.

  Aric smiled as if I were a child showing him a report card with straight As. “Come on, it’s just food. It won’t hurt you.”

  That was a lie.

  My hand trembled, and I quickly hid it in the folds of my stained dress. The female fae remained quiet, still standing by the door.

  “Be a good girl,” Aric murmured.

  Anger flushed me as my gaze flew to his. I’m going to kill you. A shudder rocked me as I forced myself to take a breath. I’m going to rip your fucking head off. Slowly, I lifted my hand and reached to the plate—

  He tipped forward suddenly, and I couldn’t stop my reaction. Flinching, I pressed back against the stone, waiting for the blow.

  This was why food equaled fear. Why hunger had truly become painful and something to dread. It was another form of torture, one both physical and mental. I was Aric’s messed up version of Pavlov’s dog, but instead of salivating at the sound of a bell, I saw food and experienced horror.

  Classic fucking conditioning at its finest.

  “Take the food,” he ordered when I didn’t move. “Take the food, or I will take from you.”

  Ice dripped down my spine as I found myself stuck between a rock and a more messed up rock. Reach for the food and most likely get punched or kicked or slapped or grabbed? Don’t reach for the food and he’d feed.

  I chose the former, lifting my arm once more.

  His other hand whipped out, catching mine. My heart jerked to a stop as he squeezed—squeezed until the bones of my hand ground together. I gasped back the cry of pain.

  “You do not learn, do you, you stupid cow?” His smile twisted into a snarl that made him look more rabid animal than human. “What are you supposed to say?”

  What he wanted tasted of bitter ash on the tip of my tongue.

  “Say it.”

  I knew what was coming.

  His lips peeled back. “Say it.”

  I said nothing because all I had left was my will, and I clamored to preserve that even when I knew he was going to take that, too.

  “Say it!” he roared.

  I swallowed hard. “Make me.”

  Letting go of my bruised hand, he grasped my chin, digging his fingers into the skin. He yanked me up onto my knees with his grip. His eyes caught mine, and there was no looking away, no blinking as his pupils seemed to constrict to pinpoints.

  Without the four-leaf clover, I was like any other mortal, fully susceptible to a fae’s glamour, and it took nothing for Aric to seize control of my mind.

  And in a sick way, it was sort of a relief the moment I felt the icy brush against my consciousness. Because then, I felt nothing. No fear. No hate. No dread.

  Nothing.

  “Say it,” he whispered, but his voice echoed throughout me. “Say please.”

  “Please,” I repeated.

  Aric’s smile returned. “Good girl.” Letting go of my chin, he dropped the plate of food in front of me. “Eat.”

  I ate, using my sore fingers to pull apart the cooling meat.

  “When you’re done, you will be bathed,” Aric explained. “You reek of sweat and humanity.”

  Pausing mid-chew, I glanced over at the female fae who remained silent by the door. Was that why she was here? There was a niggle of concern as if the idea of being bathed should concern me, but the sensation floated away, and I resumed eating.

  Once the plate was empty, the female hurried over, placing the tote beside me. She went back to the door, disappearing for a moment only to return with a small army of fae. They carried a copper tub, dropping it in the space between the stone slabs. Water sloshed over the edges, hitting my legs. I jerked my feet back. The liquid was cold.

  Aric snapped his fingers, and the other fae quickly left. Only he and the female remained. He turned to me. “Stand.”

  I climbed to my feet.

  Aric tilted his head, his pale gaze flickering over me. “You’re so much easier to deal with like this.” He approached me, curling his fingers around my chin and tilting my head back. “Which means, this will go so much more smoothly. Because I know the minute I release my hold on you, you’re going to fight this.”

  I blinked slowly as he reached around, unhooking the band secured to my neck. He placed it on the stone.

  “Because I know you’ll find every second of this utterly humiliating, being stripped and tended to as if you are nothing more than a child. I want to see that. The red flush of embarrassment, and the futile attempts to cover yourself.” His eyes closed as he sighed. “It would truly be a marvelous sight to behold. But alas, I fear it would break you, and since you’re my favorite new pet, I’m not done playing with you.”

  He opened his eyes. “Plus, I have important business to do today.” Slipping his hand from my chin, he stepped back and motioned the female forward.

  I stood still, waiting.

  Aric pivoted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cellphone. He stared down at it as the female picked up the tote and began taking out items. Removing two pitchers, she filled them with the water from the tub.

  “Undress,” she said, her voice sharp as an icicle. “And get in the tub.”

  My gaze flicked from her to the Ancient’s back.

  The female beside me sighed with annoyance. “My lord.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and, a moment later, he chuckled. “Undress and get in the tub, little bird.”

  I did as he requested, letting the soiled clothing fall to the floor. The water was a shock, stunning me into immobility as the cold shot straight up my legs and my spine. There was no time to adjust. Hands landed on my shoulders, forcing me down so I was sitting. Gasping, I reached out, clasping the sides of the tub.

  The female got to work, working a lavender-scented bar of soap against my skin. The sting against the raw cuts warred with the numbing properties of the frigid water, and eventually, the water won. The smarting pain faded as the female moved to a cloth, dragging it down my arms as she knelt behind me. Quickly, the once-clear water turned murky.

  Aric moved to the other slab of stone, stretched out on it, reclining as if he were lounging by a pool. “Ask me what business I have to take care of, little bird,” he said, looking up from his phone.

  Teeth chattering, I winced as the female dragged the soapy cloth along my back. “W-what business d-do you have to t-take care of?”

  “Well, since you asked.” He returned to thumbing through his cell. “I have a very important meeting with a…certain member of the Summer Court who, like me, wishes to see the return of the Queen. For very different reasons, but reasons nonetheless.”

  My head jerked back as the female scrubbed at my tangled hair, lathering the oily strands.

  “I’m so close to reopening the doorway and fr
eeing my Queen.” Looking up from his phone, Aric glanced over at me just as the female tugged on my hair once more. One eyebrow rose as his gaze dipped. The corners of his lips tipped up. “Do you know how I will succeed? Answer me.”

  My spine bowed as the female guided my head. She picked up the pitcher. “No.”

  Swinging his legs off the stone, he stood and approached the tub. “Obviously, the likelihood of the King having a child with a halfling is slim, but there is one way that the gateway could be opened. The King himself can do it.”

  He dropped to his knees in front of the tub, snapping his fingers. A moment later, he held the pitcher. “But why would he?”

  Shivering, I waited for him to continue.

  He curved a hand around the nape of my neck. “Tip your head back,” he coaxed, and I obeyed. “The King wouldn’t unless he was forced. After all, he would do anything to protect his mortuus. The Summer fae can bring me the King’s weakness, and with that, I will be able to make him do whatever I want.”

  The cold water pouring over my head wasn’t as much of a shock as it had been when I first climbed into the tub, but it still caused me to jolt.

  “And as more younglings and Summer fae taste the Devil’s Breath, the Order will be too busy wrangling them as I force the King to open the doorway.” He picked up the other pitcher, rinsing the remaining soap from my hair. He placed it aside. “When that happens, this world will finally become the Queen’s, and nothing will be able to stop her this time.”

  Drops of water blotted his white shirt as he slid his hand to the front of my throat. “You’ll most likely be dead by then.”

  His fingers followed the stream of water coursing down my shoulders and then lower. His gaze tracked his hand. “Perhaps you will make me a liar. You are strangely resilient, and I have yet to bore of our time together. I’m not ready to silence your screams.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden pinch.

  “You’re surprisingly…pleasantly developed for a mortal,” he murmured, the coolness of his palm branding my skin. “I am starting to understand why the King became interested. Then again, he was, how do I say? Always virile before he was mated to Siobhan. His escapades were rather legendary.”