Vicious King: A Dark Captive Romance (Dark Dynasty Book 2)

by Stella Hart

  It was easy to pretend for a while that we were a real couple, sitting in a hotel suite as we enjoyed delicious meals and did regular couple stuff like snuggling up together on a bed while a funny movie played in the background. But then my eyes drifted over to the windows and the thick silver bars dragged me back to reality.

  This was no hotel, and Elias wasn’t my boyfriend. This gorgeous, opulent room wasn’t really mine, and it never would be.

  It was a beautiful cage… but it was still a cage.

  “Rise and shine, Doll.”

  I opened my eyes to see Mellie standing over my bed, a smug smile on her beautiful face. I groaned and sat up. “What are you doing here? Where’s Elias?”

  I didn’t remember going to sleep last night. I wasn’t even sure if Elias spent the night, or if he slipped out after waiting for me to drift off.

  Mellie shrugged. “I think he had to go do something with his dad. I don’t know what. Anyway, I’m here to go over the ground rules with you.”

  I gaped at her. “What, you work here now?”

  She beamed and nodded. “I told you, I’ve proved my worth to the society, and now they’re rewarding me by letting me take part. It’s my job to liaise with all the new girls here and help them get settled, especially as none of you were actually ready to be integrated just yet.” She paused to let out a long, heavy sigh. “God, it really is a crying shame that Albemarle Island flooded, isn’t it? The School won’t be fixed for months. It’s such a nice place, though. So far away from the real world. I can’t wait till it’s all restored.”

  So the island had a name. “Yeah, it’s really nice,” I said stiffly.

  She glared at me, and her blue eyes no longer seemed so pretty. They were just cold and stony. “I’ll let that one slide. But only that one.”

  “So you really quit college for this?” I blurted out, unable to help myself. I still couldn’t believe a girl like her, with all the opportunities and privilege in the world, would choose this for herself.

  She snorted. “It’s not like anyone from my family really needs qualifications. We can walk into almost any job we want with just a few phone calls. So what’s the point of getting a degree?” She waved a hand. “Besides, I got sick of listening to Willa and Greer moaning and bitching about you all the time. You know they can’t stand you now?”

  Bile rose in my throat. “Yeah, I know,” I mumbled. I couldn’t blame them. They were my best friends and I’d seemingly cut them off without a word. Then my parents had informed them that I thought I was too good for them and therefore they weren’t allowed to have any sort of contact with me.

  If I were them, I’d hate me too.

  “Anyhow,” Mellie said, finally sitting down. “We need to go over the house rules. There’s a lot, so pay attention.”

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up straight. “Fine,” I muttered. It wasn’t like I had a choice.

  “You’ll get a tour later today so you’ll know where everything is,” she began. “Anyway, rule one is that breakfast is served to all the girls between seven and nine each morning in the second floor dining room. It’s in the east wing. The only exceptions to this rule is if a member has invited you to share breakfast with him instead. Happens occasionally.”

  “Right. Breakfast, east wing, seven and nine. Got it.” That seemed simple enough.

  “Lunch is at twelve, dinner is at seven. Unless it’s a party day or night, in which case you don’t get lunch or dinner. You’ll bloat up too much, which no one wants to see. There are canapés at the parties, though, so you won’t totally starve.”

  Great. “Uh-huh.”

  “There are several gyms on this floor. All girls must exercise between nine and ten. You can also go for walks through the mansion and around the grounds, but you must not disturb anyone, and you must stay within the grounds. There are guards patrolling everywhere, so don’t even try to defy that rule.”

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. “Got it.”

  “You have your weekly beauty rituals on Tuesdays. Waxing, eyebrow threading, manicures, teeth bleaching, and so on. You don’t have to get all of those done every week, of course, but you still have to attend. Gotta maintain those polished looks. Not that you seem very polished at the moment.” She sniffed, casting a disparaging eye over my frizzy hair and bare face. “There’s also monthly testing for sexually transmitted infections, and your contraceptive shot must be updated every three months. Don’t need any unwanted pregnancies while you’re still in use.”

  My stomach lurched. In use. Like I was just an object or a machine.

  “You must attend all parties, unless you are sick or injured.”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “What exactly is a party? Is it like what I saw yesterday, in that huge room on the way in?”

  “Yes, exactly like that. Not always in that particular room, but if you saw yesterday’s proceedings, then you already have a decent idea of what it all entails.”

  I nodded miserably. “Got it,” I said, my voice barely above a murmur.

  “Next rule: you must obey the man you’ve been given to. In your case, Elias. Everything he wishes is your command. And I mean everything. Even if he wants something like double anal with two massive toys, you grit your teeth and bear it. And you never, ever complain. You must always seem happy and compliant.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s up to your master to choose whether or not he wants to share you at parties, but most of the members do. So if he chooses that and other men approach you for anything, you must say yes. Failure to do so will result in punishment.”

  “Uh-huh.” The taste of bile returned to my throat at the idea of letting some twisted, evil old man force his way inside me.

  “And lastly….” Mellie leaned forward. “This is the most important rule. You must never talk about how you’re here as a captive. Ever. Even if someone asks, you smile and deny it. You say you are here consensually and that you are very happy. Or else.”

  A shiver ran through me, like a bolt of electricity. “Why?”

  She smiled, baring vicious white teeth at me. “Because not everyone is aware of what really goes on here.”

  “What?” My heart began to pound.

  “Only trusted members are let in on the truth of the Lodge,” she said smugly. “Others come here to enjoy the parties and the girls, but they have no idea where they really come from. They think you’re all just happy hookers.”

  I was immediately reminded of Tobias and Elias mocking me behind my back all those weeks ago, secretly laughing as Elias pretended not to know that I was a captive. Fury bubbled up inside me all over again.

  How could that man be the same one who yanked me out from the cold, creeping arms of death yesterday? How could someone so malicious be so caring at the same time?

  I suppose I couldn’t entirely blame him for his nasty past behavior, though. He thought I killed Ben, and he’d subsequently held a vendetta against me for a long time. But when he saw me slip and nearly plunge to my death from a cliff, something else took charge in his mind. He said it himself yesterday: he was supposed to hate me for what I’d done, but he just couldn’t.

  “Isn’t that funny?” Mellie went on. “That so many of them don’t even know?”

  “Yeah. Hilarious,” I said in a voice laced with sarcasm.

  She slapped me right across the face. I winced and touched a hand to my smarting cheek.

  “I told you I’d only let that attitude slide once,” she said, eyes narrowed. “This isn’t Roden, Tatum. We aren’t buddies who mess around with each other between classes. This is real, and you are no longer my equal.”

  “I guess I never was in your eyes,” I said softly.

  Her shoulders relaxed, and she laughed. “Good point. You always were funny.”

  I wasn’t joking, but I didn’t dare say that.

  “Any questions?” Mellie’s brows rose.

  “A few.”

  “Well, you can ask me anything
now. Within reason, of course.”

  I sighed and looked down at the duvet, tracing the pattern of the golden thread woven throughout it. “You said we’re allowed to walk outside. Has anyone ever managed to escape the grounds?”

  Mellie’s eyes glittered. “Already thinking of trying to escape, huh?” Her lips spread in a wide grin. “Like I said earlier, don’t even bother trying. But to answer your question: yes, actually, a few have escaped in the past.”

  Blazing hope flared within me. So it was possible after all. I might not even need Elias on my side. “Really?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t betray my excitement.

  She nodded. “Yup. Remember ages ago, when we were talking about that Roden Strangler urban myth? Someone mentioned that woman who was found in a forest, dead from a drug overdose. Way back in the eighties.”

  “Yes.”

  “My dad told me she was a captive here. But security wasn’t as good back then as it is now. She managed to get away through the forest. The guards eventually caught up to her, but after that, her master didn’t want her anymore. Neither did anyone else. Too much trouble. So they faked the drug overdose and left her body in a different forest. The one just out of New Marwick.”

  I gulped. “I presume something similar happened to the others who escaped.”

  “Yes. So you see how it would be a bad idea to even attempt it, right?” She arched one eyebrow. “I mean, a few have escaped, sure, but none of those few ever actually survived the escape. Not for long, anyway.”

  I gritted my teeth. There was a first time for everything.

  “Anyhow…” She waved her hand. “Anything else you want to know?”

  “Yes, actually.” I frowned. “How many other women are here?”

  “Probably around a hundred. Anywhere between five and twenty new girls are brought in each year.”

  “What happens to them once they’re no longer wanted?”

  “They work as maids, gardeners or kitchen staff here.”

  So no longer sex slaves, just regular old slaves. What a bright future to look forward to….

  “And you said all of them are captives, right? Like me,” I said.

  “Yup.” Mellie cocked her head to the side, waiting for me to go on.

  I worried my bottom lip between my teeth for a second. “When I saw that party yesterday, they all seemed happy. Like they were really enjoying it. How is that possible? Are they all just that…” I shook my head, searching for the right word. “Broken?”

  She smiled. “Some of them are. But for the most part, no.”

  “Then why would they enjoy any of it?”

  “Drugs and alcohol. Sorry, I actually forgot to mention that earlier. There’s no rules about any of that. You can drink as much as you want, snort as much coke as you want, pop as many pills as you want. As long as you don’t overdose, of course. Lots of the girls here do it to cope. It makes them a lot happier and they wind up enjoying themselves at the parties. You can do it too.”

  “I see,” I said stiffly. Hard pass.

  “Sometimes the members even get their slaves injected with oxytocin. It’s a chemical that makes people feel all lovey-dovey. The same stuff that floods through brand new mothers to help them bond with their babies.”

  “God, really?”

  She shrugged in a non-committal manner, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. “Yeah. But like I said, it’s mostly drugs and alcohol that makes the girls look so happy. Oh, and the Artemis Festival, of course. That’s a good inspiration for them to behave themselves.”

  My forehead crinkled. “The Artemis Festival?”

  Mellie glanced at her watch. “Long story. I’ll explain it to you another day. Sorry, gotta head out to see the next girl.”

  She swept out of the room. I let out a long sigh and stared up at the ceiling. According to the clock hanging on the wall near the bed, it was eight o’clock, but I didn’t want to get up and find the dining room for breakfast. My thoughts were too clouded with melancholy to think about eating.

  Even though I’d vowed to escape this place, I had no idea how long it would take. It could be months. Years. Until then, I’d have to put up with all the terrible things that happened here, and I wouldn’t be allowed to utter a single word of complaint. Not even to Elias. I needed him to help me, and that meant being a good slave to him and telling him everything he wanted to hear. Fake compliance and happiness, like Mellie said.

  There were some instances in which I didn’t have to fake it, though…

  A slow, warm tingle started deep in my belly, spreading throughout my body as I thought of yesterday’s hot and heavy encounter with him. It felt so right to let him kiss me, touch me, pick me up and fuck me. In those heady moments, I’d never wanted anything more, and a tiny part of me even wondered if I was falling for him. But now that I was alone again, reality was setting in.

  For now, I could be with him in this luxurious place. I could let him care for me, protect me, keep me warm and coddled and safe. I could even want him and crave his touch every day and night.

  But at the heart of all that, I was still a captive. A prisoner trapped in a gilded cage. Despite any feelings I had for him, I could never truly be with him.

  I could never, ever fall in love with him.

  8

  Elias

  With a flick of my hand, my golden mask sailed onto the floor with my dark red second-level robe. I was supposed to be wearing all that shit tonight, but I really couldn’t be bothered. I had a ton of work to do on my thesis, and I’d rather do that right now than attend yet another first-level party at the Tomb.

  Crown and Dagger held one every few months to show off to all the newer first-levels, keeping them entertained and on the hook. Guys who’d been first-level for longer (and also second-levels like me) were expected to make an appearance at a few of the Tomb parties to make everything look good, but they’d become stale and boring as fuck. It was the same shit every time: strippers with lithe bodies putting on shows, beautiful escorts offering anything a man could desire, head-pounding music, flowing booze, endless amounts of coke.

  While I didn’t mind drinking, I didn’t want to touch random women, and I certainly didn’t want to spend an evening snorting lines. I’d already been through that stage when I was younger. The shit was toxic, and I didn’t feel the need to get high anymore. Especially not when I had Tatum.

  She was all the high I needed. The only woman I wanted to touch. I was a man obsessed, my thoughts always fixated on the curves of her body, the lilt of her voice, the way her eyes darkened when she was afraid, and the way they lit up when she smiled.

  I’d spent the last couple of weeks with her at the Lodge, helping her get settled into the place. Things between us seemed… better. She still didn’t talk a hell of a lot, but she no longer seemed like a blank slate. She even smiled at me on occasion when I brought her things she liked.

  On top of that, fucking her was pure heaven again. She was always there in the moment, never drifting off into some dark place in her mind like she used to.

  I didn’t want to leave her at the Lodge when I was forced to return to New Marwick for all my grad school shit, but her contract stated she must be kept either there or at the island throughout her service, and I didn’t really have an option while I was so busy anyway. Besides, it was the safest place for her right now. There were doctors to take care of her physical and mental wellbeing if necessary, and security guards were everywhere to ensure no one would ever touch her against her will. More to the point, they could all ensure she never tried to hurt herself again.

  Her room also contained surveillance cameras, so anytime I wanted to look at her, I could get on my laptop or phone and do so with a few keyboard strokes. I’d done exactly that a few minutes ago, and the security feed from her bedroom was up on my laptop screen, a welcome distraction from the boring business journal I’d been studying for my thesis earlier. Welcome to the Tatum Marris Show.

  Right now, sh
e was stretched across her couch, watching an old episode of Dexter. The show’s serial killer had just jabbed a needle in someone’s neck and was preparing to slice them up.

  Tatum bit at her bottom lip as the action happened onscreen. I frowned, wondering if it reminded her of the incident with my father back in late November.

  I still wasn’t sure what made her snap and stab him. In all the weeks back at the island, when she was in her blank robotic phase, the only reason she gave me was ‘because I’m bad’. My father also seemed reluctant to discuss the subject. Every time I’d tried to ask him to elaborate, he said she just snapped out of the blue when he went down to her cell to ask her how she was doing with me.

  Something about that didn’t ring true. Why the hell would he be visiting her and asking how she was? He had no reason to care beyond the fact she belonged to me. He hated her just as much as I used to. After all, he was related to Ben too.

  When I pressed him, he said he assumed she stabbed him to get at me, because she hated being there with me and she wanted to draw attention to that by causing a huge scene. Made sense at first, in a shallow way. But not anymore, now that I’d actually thought about it. If she hated me so much and wanted to get at me, why not just stab me? It wasn’t like she didn’t have the opportunity. I was in her cell a lot back then, and she’d obviously had the improvised weapon stashed in there for weeks.

  I knew I wasn’t going to get any straight answers from either of them, though. Tatum had closed up on the subject—she didn’t seem ready to talk about what she’d been through all those weeks ago yet—and getting straight answers from my father was like extracting teeth. And that was on a good day.

  The front doorbell pealed downstairs, yanking me out of my thoughts. I ignored it, assuming the housekeeper would get it. When the bell rang again, I glanced at the time on my screen. After nine. Maricela was probably asleep.