Torn

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Torn Page 22

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  “Really?” I laughed harshly. “You have no problem injuring me.”

  “That was before I knew what you were.”

  “Oh, so beating the crap out of other females is okay? Feeding on them against their will?” I said when he looked like he was going to speak. “And I’m pretty sure you injured me earlier—”

  “You were fighting me,” he replied coolly. “Am I supposed to stand there and not defend myself?”

  “You have me chained to a fucking bed!” I shrieked like a banshee.

  The dry smirk remained fixed on his face. “That is to protect others. Obviously, you cannot be trusted to behave like a civil creature.”

  “Behave like a civil creature? Are you insane? You fed on me and brought me here against my will, and I’m supposed to behave?” I lurched for him out of anger and was immediately snapped back by the chain. A curse of frustration tore out of me. I couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation. “I am going to kill you.”

  “How? You can’t even reach me.”

  My head was going to explode. “But you’re going to get close enough to me eventually.”

  “True,” he said. “And when I do, you’ll be willing.”

  “Not likely.”

  Drake’s smile grew.

  My anger matched it. “You can’t pretend to be Ren anymore. I know.”

  “I don’t need to pretend to be him.”

  I started to pace as far as the chain would allow, which was from the nightstand to the halfway point of the bed. “I thought for a child to be conceived, it couldn’t be done with any trick or coercion,” I said.

  “You would be correct.”

  I eyed him as he moved closer. “But you pretending to be Ren would be trickery.”

  “Would it? There isn’t exactly a handbook on these things. If you said yes, you would’ve given me consent.”

  The bitter taste of shame clogged my throat even though I knew what had happened between Drake and me wasn’t my fault. I knew that, but the mortification was still there. “I would’ve given Ren consent. Not you.”

  “Semantics.” He sat on the edge of the bed. I could probably have reached him, but only to grab his hair, and that wouldn’t have helped. “It was worth trying.”

  Backing into the nightstand, I put as much space as the chain would allow between us. “You sicken me.”

  He smirked. “And I love seeing you with this.” He reached over, running his finger along the taut chain, and I tensed. “It’s like having a rabid cat on a leash.”

  “Fuck—”

  Drake yanked on the chain, and I toppled to my knees. “I also love seeing you down there, little bird.”

  Tears of humiliation stung my eyes as I stared at his boots. “Do you think that I would ever, in a million years, be with you after all of this?”

  “I think so.” Drake rose, forcing me to stand with him.

  “I hate you,” I seethed, watching him.

  One shoulder rose as he reached into his pocket, withdrawing a key. “I’m not particularly fond of you either.”

  “You’re not even attracted to me.” I recalled the moments on the couch when he was pretending to be Ren. “How’s that going to work out?”

  “Oh, there are times when I find you deliciously attractive.” He unhooked the chain from the bed, but before I could do anything, he wrapped it around his fist. He yanked me forward, against his chest. “This is one of those moments. So don’t worry about my ability to perform.” Lowering his mouth to my ear, he said, “I’ve had worse.”

  I strained away, leaning as far back as I could. “Well, I haven’t.”

  “You’ll change your tune soon enough.” He shortened the length of the chain and started walking. I had no choice but to follow.

  The hallway was wide with several closed doors. At the end, two ancients stood as sentries. Their lips curled in disgust as we passed. I wanted to drag my feet, but his pace made it impossible. I struggled to keep up with him as we went down the wide stairs.

  “You’re like my pet,” he said as we reached what I assumed was the first floor. Bright sunlight streamed in through numerous windows. He tugged on the chain when I stopped.

  Fae were everywhere. Lounging on the couches and chairs in the sitting room. Leaning against the walls. My wild gaze roamed over them as Drake tugged me toward the back of the large house. All of them watched with varying degrees of amusement or disgust etched onto their striking, coldly beautiful features. Except one. A female fae with silvery hair braided and tossed over one shoulder. The look on her face was one of horror. I didn’t get it. The fear in her pale eyes was palpable as the prince dragged me toward another door that an ancient stood in front of.

  But then the ancient opened the door, revealing a narrow hallway, and I was being pulled through it, much like a dog on a leash. “The humans who owned this house said that this once was the servants’ quarters,” Drake explained. “I think they used the term ‘servant’ loosely.”

  I was led into a wider room that used to be a servants’ kitchen. The cabinets were still attached to the wall and an old fridge hummed softly. The room still served as a kitchen.

  Well, not the kind of kitchen I ever wanted in my house.

  Dozens of cots lined the room, and they were occupied by humans in various states of being fed on. Their complexions were pale and marred by inky, black veins. A male was currently being fed on. His moans were a mixture of pain and something else entirely. And he wasn’t pushing away the male fae that was feeding on him. He was clenching the fae’s shoulders, holding him close.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, horrified, my stomach twisting painfully. “You—”

  “We need to feed,” Drake replied, tugging on the chain until my gaze found his. “They enjoy it. You would too if you’d stop fighting me.”

  “They enjoy it?” I whispered, sickened. “What kind of life is this?”

  The prince didn’t respond. He opened another door, and I thought about what had happened at Flux. I had no idea if all the humans who worked at the club knew about the fae, but some did, and look what had happened to them. They were murdered. “You killed all those people at the club. You—”

  He tugged on the chain until I was brought to the tips of my toes. “They crossed me. It would be wise of you to learn from their example.”

  I wanted to ask how they’d betrayed him, but I was pulled into a room about the size of a walk-in pantry. It was dimly lit by a bare, hanging bulb. I gasped. I was no longer thinking of the club or the humans lying on the cots. A figure was hunched against the wall, his hands secured together. A heavier chain ran from his wrists to the wall. Russet, wavy, limp hair fell over his pale, high cheekbones. A purplish-blue bruise covered the left side of his face. He was shirtless, his pants were undone, and his chest was a mess of scratches and bite marks.

  No. No, no, no.

  I didn’t want it to be him, but it was. It was Ren.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Ren,” I cried out, rushing forward.

  Drake caught the chain, jerking my head back. The metal dug into my windpipe. I grabbed the chain, fighting for length. “Did I give you permission to go to him?” he said.

  A powerful surge of hatred boiled up in me, stronger than I knew was possible. Ren’s chest was moving with slow, shallow breaths. He was alive, but the network of veins under his skin was abnormally dark. I didn’t have to ask to know what they’d been doing to him.

  Not taking my eyes off Ren, I struggled to get oxygen in and words out. “Please. Please let me go to him.”

  The prince didn’t respond for what felt like forever, and then I felt the chain loosen. “Don’t make me regret this concession. He will pay for your actions if you displease me.”

  Hating the prince with every fiber of my being, I went to Ren’s side, kneeling down on the scuffed wooden floor. “Ren,” I whispered, placing my hand on his right cheek. Carefully, I lifted his head. Lashes fanned the deep, d
ark circles under his eyes, but he was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Oh God, Ren . . .”

  “Don’t feel too bad for him,” Drake said, approaching us. “He’s caught the eye of Breena, and she has been real . . . hands on with him.”

  I didn’t know who this Breena was, but she was officially on my to-kill list. Brushing back the flop of hair from his forehead, I brushed my lips over his brow.

  “How romantic,” Drake said dryly.

  I closed my eyes against the burn of salty tears, but I couldn’t un-see the ragged scratches and the surface bites. I didn’t know everything that this Breena and the others had been doing to him, but I knew it wasn’t pretty. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, pressing my cheek to the top of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ren’s shoulders rose with a ragged breath, and as I drew back, his eyes fluttered open. Oh God, those beautiful green eyes were all his. They were slightly dull and a bit unfocused, but they were his. Tears snuck free as his gaze found mine. How had I ever mistaken the prince for him?

  I forced a weak smile. “Hey.”

  “Ivy?” Ren murmured.

  “It’s me.” I smoothed my hand down his cheek, feeling several days’ worth of stubble.

  Another breath shuddered out of him. “You . . . shouldn’t be here.”

  Pressure clamped down on my chest. “Neither should you.”

  His eyes drifted shut as he leaned into me. His lips moved, but there was no sound. I had no idea what kind of mental state he was in, but if it was anything like how he looked, it couldn’t be good, and I wanted to tear the room apart. I had no idea if he remembered anything about our conversation the last time we saw each other or if he hated my guts because of what I was and the position it put him in, but I didn’t care if he loathed me. I couldn’t bear to see him like this.

  “I told you he was still alive,” Drake said, “but him staying alive depends solely on you.”

  Pressing a kiss to Ren’s temple, I then looked over at the prince. He stood a few feet from us, my chain dangling from his grip.

  Once he had my attention, he smiled coldly. “I will let him go in exchange for you.”

  I stilled, not sure I was hearing him correctly. “What?”

  “I will let him go, right now, if you agree to be with me.”

  My lips parted as I sucked in air. His offer echoed in my head, and I was almost too horrified to consider it. He couldn’t be serious.

  “If not, I cannot promise that Breena will make things . . . as pleasurable for him as she has in the past,” Drake said.

  I flinched at the insinuation.

  “No,” Ren groaned, lifting his chin. My gaze shot to his battered face. “You can’t . . .”

  “You can,” Drake stated. “If you want him to live, you can.”

  “This . . . this is coercion,” I whispered, looking up at him.

  “Not if you truly decide to give yourself to me freely.”

  Bile rose swiftly as I stared at him. He was being a hundred percent serious. To save Ren, I had to give myself to the prince . . . and possibly end the world by having a baby that blew open all the gates to the Otherworld.

  “You have a choice,” the prince said. “I let this human male go free and you submit to me. Or I hand him over to Breena completely and he won’t survive the night.”

  That was no choice.

  I couldn’t let Ren die. Even if he hated me, I couldn’t do that. The Order needed Ren. The world needed him to fight the fae and the ancients. I needed him alive.

  Ren stirred, trying to shift forward, but he slumped over to the side. I caught him before he toppled over completely. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, but I knew I couldn’t allow any more harm to come to him. There had to be another option. I needed time.

  Time.

  We needed time.

  An idea sprung to life, and I latched onto it like it was the only preserver in the ocean. If I could get Ren to safety and somehow negotiate time, I could hopefully figure a way out of this mess.

  “How do I know you’re not lying? How will I know that you’ve let him go and he’s safe?”

  “I give you my word.” Victory gleamed in his glacial eyes. “Once given, it is only breakable by death.”

  That was true. I had no idea why the fae were bound by promises, but they could not go back on them. Not even a prince or a queen. “And you would promise to let him go immediately and harm him no more?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ivy, don’t. You can’t,” Ren groaned.

  It pained me to ignore him, but I had to. “I need time.”

  The prince cocked his head to the side.

  “I need time to . . . to be with you.” I forced the words out as Ren tensed against me. “I can’t just do it. That’s not who I am.”

  Drake’s eyes narrowed. “No—”

  “All I’m asking for is time. If you don’t give it, and you hurt Ren further, I will find a way to end this, and you’ll be back to square one, looking for another halfling.”

  His grip tightened on the chain, and I felt it around my neck. “How much time?”

  “A month.”

  “No. A week,” he countered.

  That was not enough time for me to hopefully find a way out of this damn place. “Four weeks.”

  “That’s a month.” The prince sighed. “Two weeks.”

  “Three,” I shot back. “I need time to grow accustomed to this. To become comfortable.”

  “You don’t need to be comfortable. You just need to let me plant my seed in you.”

  I winced. “Yeah, okay. That’s why I need time, because you say stuff like that while I have a chain around my neck, and I just want to throw up in your face.”

  The prince’s lip curled in disgust. “Revolting.”

  “Exactly,” I spat. “I need time.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Ren grunted, pulling against his chains. His eyes opened to thin slits and his cheeks were flushed with anger. “You’re not going to touch her.” Muscles popped in his arms and shoulders. “I’m going to fucking kill you. You sick son of a bitch, I will fucking end you.”

  The prince shot Ren a dismissive glance. “Three weeks and you’ll submit to me?”

  My stomach soured, but I nodded.

  “Say it,” he ordered.

  “Three weeks and I’ll . . . submit to you,” I gritted out.

  The prince smiled, flashing bright white teeth that were shockingly sharp. “Deal.” He turned, calling out in a language I didn’t understand. The door opened, and one of the short-haired ancients stepped in the room. “He is to be released.”

  “Wait. Promise me that you will cause him no further harm and free him, and that you will give me three weeks,” I demanded. “Promise that.”

  A muscle flexed along his jaw.

  My heart was pumping. “I need to hear you promise that.”

  “Ivy . . .” Ren’s hands opened and closed fitfully.

  “I promise that he will be released without any further harm, and I will give you three weeks, not a day longer, to grow accustomed,” Drake stated.

  The band seemed to constrict around my neck as I whispered, “Deal.”

  “No,” Ren exclaimed. “Ivy, you can’t—”

 

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