“The song.” Cyrus patted my hand. “No matter. Enjoy the show, my dear.”
Who cares about the fucking song? My whole body trembled as the spotlights hit the stage. I pressed my eyes shut, but that didn’t erase what I’d just seen.
A dull grey carpet covering the wooden stage, mimicking a cement floor. Mirrors all around, reflecting the crowd, making it look as though they were so much closer to the men on stage.
Such a perfect replica of my first memory. With my eyes closed, I felt the chains on me. The horror of his hands touching me in the darkness. I’d been blind at first, could only hear him as he urged me not to fight. As he did his best to keep me alive without hurting me too badly.
The harsh sound of metal brought my attention back to the stage, where the bound captive struggled more than I’d been able to in his place. A heavy metal glove encased one of his hands and blood trailed down his wrists between the chain links on his arm as he strained to pull free. More chains held him on his back on the floor of the stage, his other arm against his side, his legs spread wide. He was so much stronger than I would ever be, his muscles bulging as he bucked against the restraints, but our captors had made him just as helpless.
A thick blindfold covered his eyes, but he turned his head toward the approaching figure as though losing his sight didn’t hamper his senses at all. “You fucking swore, you son of a bitch. Death first.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, the figure standing over the bound man shook his head. He undid his belt and unzipped his black jeans. “You know I can’t do that. Stop fighting, you’ll only hurt yourself.”
I put my hand over my mouth as bile flooded my throat.
Don’t. Please don’t.
“I’ll fucking kill you, Daederich.”
Standing over Elah, his shoulders back and his hands fisted at his sides, Daederich nodded. Then he looked up, squinting into the spotlight, surveying the crowd. His gaze never reached me, but his words did.
“If you manage, you’ll be free. And you’ll save her.” He returned his focus to Elah and let out a bitter laugh. “But right now, you’re useless, hunter. She survived this and worse and so will you.”
Kneeling between Elah’s thighs, Daederich spit on his palm and took hold of Elah’s slack dick, stroking him as he leaned over the other man’s tense body, their bare chests almost touching. He spoke quietly, likely using the same words he had with me. Trying to make Elah relax to spare him as much pain as possible.
“Just let it happen.”
Tears trailed down my cheeks as I watched them. They’d lost their freedom in their search for me and Cyrus would make sure they both suffered. This show was for my benefit. He’d taken the last scraps of hope I’d clung to and torn them to shreds.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Cyrus sighed when I glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Much as I’d love to take credit, I’m not responsible for them being here. I am simply a guest, like you.”
He had to be lying, but why bother? Daederich and Elah being his prisoners wouldn’t change what I’d be willing to do for Cyrus. Not now that I knew he could get his hands on Alrik whenever he wanted. The men would go through hell, as would I, but Daederich was right. I’d survived before and would again no matter what I had to do. I refused to give up and have the little boy taken to replace me.
Which meant I couldn’t react to what I saw on the stage. Couldn’t lash out at Cyrus and demand he set them free.
“She’s so tame. I’m not sure what you see in her, my lord.” A sweet, feminine voice came from right behind me and I almost shot out of my seat. Something in her tone sent an unexpected chill creeping up my spine, like the vision of a beautiful butterfly, right before it settles on your skin and you realize those tiny legs are no different than a spider’s. Only, a spider can be brushed off and will scurry away.
Pretty butterflies, with their fancy wings, will flutter around you, returning again and again, tangling in your hair as they reach for you. But as revolting as I found butterflies, they were harmless.
This woman wasn’t.
“Rosali, I’d hoped you’d join us.” Cyrus stood and took the woman’s hand, bringing it to his lips before guiding her to the chair on his other side. He seemed tense, his smile a little strained, not quite reaching his eyes as he remained standing while she settled down gracefully. “I’m truly impressed by the staging, my sweet. However did you manage to replicate the scene so well? Daederich is nearly impossible to read and all those who witnessed it are dead.”
Giggling, Rosali took Cyrus’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. “You’re still alive. Have you forgotten how easily I can read you?”
Cyrus’s lips thinned. “I suppose I had.”
Sighing, Rosali brought her attention back to the stage. “They’re boring you, aren’t they? Joe was fucking her by now. Why is he being so careful with this man?”
Her question seemed to please Cyrus, because he chuckled as he settled back in his seat. “’Joe’ was aroused by Lydia. As much as he claimed to want to save her life, he was craving her tight little pussy. He’s not quite so motivated with Elah.”
Pressing my fist against my lips, I watched Daederich, still leaning over Elah, and realized Cyrus was right. Daederich wasn’t even hard. He had his forehead pressed against Elah’s chest and his hand around both their dicks, but his harsh strokes didn’t seem to be working. And the crowd was getting restless.
“How do I motivate him?” Rosali tipped her head back, setting her adoring gaze on Cyrus as he considered the men below.
She looked desperate to please Cyrus, and he appeared much more comfortable indulging her than dealing with whatever power she had over him. I wondered if she was older than him. How else could she see his thoughts?
If she was, she’d be a very good friend to have.
Glancing over at me, Cyrus smirked and shook his head. “No, pet.” He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and smiled at Rosali. “You’ve made this too easy on him. Release the hunter and let them fight for dominance. He’ll be much more entertaining if there’s a chance he could lose.”
“I’d be a fool to give the hunter a chance at freedom.” Rosali frowned. “Even crippled as he is, it took ten men to chain him.”
“Then the question should be, ‘what will hold him better than any chain?’” Cyrus reached out and I forced myself not to duck out of reach as he stroked my hair. “He’s in love with my pet. You may use her, so long as you do no lasting damage.”
Rosali flashed Cyrus a brilliant smile as she shot up from her chair. She danced over to me, latching onto my wrist and jerking me to my feet, laughing when I tried to pull away.
Cyrus put his hand on the small of my back. “Don’t fight her, pet. Hurting you will amuse her, and there’s nothing I can do to protect you.”
I bit my lip as Rosali shoved me against the railing. Latching on to the smooth, polished wood, I stared down at Daederich and Elah as they both lifted their heads as though they could sense me.
Taking out her phone, Rosali touched the screen, then spoke softly. “Release the hunter and aim the spotlight on me.”
The spotlight shifted, blinding me for a moment. As my vision returned, I saw several figures in black robes surround Daederich and Elah. Elah was unchained and helped to his feet. He tore off the blindfold and tossed it aside. Fixed his clothing as quickly as Daederich had. A flimsy layer of protection, more for the mind than the body.
“We’re going to play a new game.” Rosali called out to the men. She shifted behind me, running her hand over the swell of my breasts. A knife flashed in the spotlight as she held it before me. “Joe, I’m very disappointed that you didn’t accept my gift. But you’ll have another chance. Fuck him so we may all enjoy seeing the hunter become your bitch.”
All around the stage, the crowd cheered, egging Daederich on and mocking Elah.
“If you wanted him to fuck me, you should have left the chains.” E
lah squared his shoulders, his lips tipping up on one side. “What’s to stop me from leaving this stage and killing you all?”
The knife sliced down, cutting my dress and my flesh. I bit into my cheek to keep from crying out at the sharp pain as my blood soaked the white fabric.
“By the time you reach me, hunter, the woman you’ve sacrificed so much for will be in little pieces, raining over the crowd. I’m not afraid to die, so come at me if you’d like.” Rosali rested her chin on my shoulder and flicked her tongue over the blood-slicked flat of the blade. “But if you want her to live, your only choice is which one of you is getting fucked. Be grateful I’m giving you a fighting chance to be on top.”
Elah’s gaze met mine and the pain I saw there nearly brought me to my knees. He was torn between playing Rosali’s twisted game and following his training as a hunter. Hunters were rarely apprehended alive. They would take down as many as possible and die fighting.
And I wanted to tell him to fight. I’d rather see him dead than watch him suffer the way Daederich and I had.
But he was waiting for me to give him a sign. To tell him if I was ready for my life to end.
“Consider carefully, my love.” Cyrus trailed his fingers up my arm as he leaned close and whispered in my ear. “Who will I have to play with if she kills you?”
Alrik. I swallowed hard and shook my head. “You’d let her kill me?”
“She’s my sire. I can’t stop her, Lydia.”
Shit. I wouldn’t bother asking if things could get worse. They would.
I met Elah’s eyes, praying he’d understand. His jaw hardened as he inclined his head. He spun around to face Daederich.
Just in time for Daederich’s chain covered fist to connect with his jaw.
As Elah went down, Cyrus chuckled, rubbing my arm as though to warm me, ignoring the blood he smeared over my flesh. “Very well done. Our man isn’t afraid to fight dirty. He’ll have the hunter back in chains even faster than he got them on you.”
“Daederich didn’t put the chains on me.” I wet my lips with my tongue as I watched the man I loved quickly wrap the chains around Elah’s arms, trapping him facedown before the hunter could recover and fight back.
Daederich found a padlock in seconds and the fight was over. Elah struggled, but the chains were made to hold a creature of his strength. He snarled as Daederich pulled off his belt.
“He’s always in control, Lydia. Surely you know that?” Cyrus’s tone held a level of sympathy that made me sick. “Keep your eyes on his face and consider what was asked of him. He was told to fuck Elah, not beat him. But he will hurt the other man to weaken him and entertain the crowd. Above all, Daederich has always been a survivor.”
There was a grim determination in Daederich’s expression as he wrapped half the belt around his fist. Without warning, he swung the belt down across Elah’s back. Elah held still, his head bowed, not making a sound.
“He’s hard, but he’s enjoying this too much to end it quickly.”
I wanted to deny Cyrus’s words, but with every lash of the belt, the man I loved changed a little more into a cold, heartless stranger. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe Cyrus’s claim. Daederich was enjoying this.
The smirk on his lips when he finally drew a grunt of pain from the captive hunter hurt worse than the knife that had sliced so deep I still hadn’t healed.
He wasn’t a pawn in this game. His hand was among those moving the pieces.
Chapter Four
Elah had suffered far worse than a belt ripping through his flesh. The training he’d gone through as a hunter made Daederich’s strikes gentle taps in comparison. He could have lain here for hours, taking each lash without uttering a sound.
Only, he’d lost enough strength with the blood-thinning poison Rosali had fed them and he couldn’t afford to be weakened any more. Let the crowd believe he couldn’t stand the pain. Few would underestimate a hunter, but he would take any opportunity to show himself as less of a threat. It was his only chance to ever gain his freedom.
His bloody saliva wet the floor under his cheek as he bowed his back in response to another lash of the belt. The pain traveled up his spine with a long slice of heat and he let out a louder, rougher sound as though he couldn’t hold it in.
The next lash came with a crack, fracturing a rib and driving the agony in deep. He would heal, but without blood any more damage would cripple him further. The metal glove on his hand was bad enough. He had to find a way to get Daederich to stop.
“Please…” He swallowed back the acidic blood rising in his throat. He’d never been forced to beg in his life. Doing so now brought on a murderous rage he struggled to bury deep. “Stop.”
“Ask me to fuck you, Elah.” Daederich knelt behind him and raked his fingers into Elah’s hair, wrenching his head back. “Tell me how much you want it.”
No! Elah’s pride rammed into his chest like a cement block trying to crush him. “I want no man.”
“No man but me. She said the same once—before you came along. Now we’ve both lost her. But I still have you.” Daederich let out a bitter laugh. “She sees you where she was once. A victim being abused and violated by me. What was it I said to her?” He cocked his head as though thinking it over. “Ah yes.” He leaned heavily on Elah, the thick head of his dick pressing in. “Just let it happen.”
Any hunter would have killed Elah rather than perform like this. Elah would have killed Daederich. He’d once cared enough to make sure the man never fell into Cyrus’s sadistic hold again, but no more. He would make Daederich pay.
Then he would find a way to save Lydia. And the boy. She would never forgive Elah if the boy suffered the same fate as his father, being twisted into a shell of a man willing to do anything to survive another day.
But to do so, Elah would have to become that same kind of shell. He almost laughed at the irony. They’d all become puppets on Cyrus’s strings, dancing for his amusement, no matter their reasons.
Daederich drew away slightly, spitting in his palm once again. He pressed his chest to Elah’s back as he ran his slick fingers between his ass cheeks.
“This stage, this is the exact setting where I took Lydia the first time.” Daederich released a shaky breath as he whispered in Elah’s ear. “There’s a reason Cyrus wants her to watch me taking you the same way.”
“Enough with the pillow talk, you pathetic fucker.” Elah gritted his teeth as Daederich pushed a finger into him. “Get it over with.”
Daederich bit his shoulder hard, drawing more blood. He ran his tongue over the wound, then let out a soft sigh. “Do you love her?”
Elah closed his eyes, his jaw hardening as another finger joined the first. He didn’t want to answer. Admitting how he felt about Lydia, here of all places, wouldn’t do any of them any good. Why would Daederich even ask? Was this revenge?
For all Elah knew, he would be fucked for the crowd, then torn to shreds for their pleasure. He may never get a chance to say the words out loud. And he needed to speak them, even if she never heard.
“I do love her. That’s the only reason you’re still alive.”
“Good, because she will hate me when this is done. No matter what happens, you fight for her. Do what you can to keep her whole.” Daederich inhaled roughly, shoving his fingers in all the way. “She may never forgive me. He’s playing with her, and he’s winning. Don’t let him.”
Caught off-guard, Elah turned his head to meet Daederich’s eyes. Maybe he’d been wrong about the other man. His request wasn’t that of a man enjoying, or even trying to survive the game. There was a tone of defeat he couldn’t hide.
Every detail of the act played out like still frames in Elah’s mind. This was what Lydia had gone through with Daederich on the first day she remembered. Twisted so Lydia saw him as one of her tormentors, rather than a fellow captive.
Cyrus was taking everything Lydia thought she knew and warping it. Elah would have fallen into the same trap far too
easily. Become yet another jagged piece to the puzzle Cyrus was putting together to portray a picture that would leave Lydia even more vulnerable to his manipulation.
To get close to her, Elah would have to play his part. Let Daederich be the enemy. It was the only way Cyrus would have use for him.
“Have you ever done this before?” Elah held in a nervous laugh, focused on keeping his tone too low for any but Daederich to hear.
Daederich pumped his fingers in, pressing his lips to the side of Elah’s throat. “Yes. But only on top with a woman.”
Likely not willing with a man. Elah braced himself, hands in fists. “Cyrus?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck me.”
A soft chuckle, and Daederich whispered in his ear. “I’m working on it. You’re so fucking tight you’ll rip my dick off if I try now.”
The image of using his ass as a weapon helped Elah relax slightly. He shuddered as Daederich’s fingers hit a sensitive spot, sending a jarring rush of pleasure into his balls. The pleasure affected him more than any amount of pain. He struggled not to react to the surge of lust.
“You didn’t rip Cyrus’s dick off. You’d be a fucking hero if you had.”
Snorting, Daederich rammed his fingers in all the way, stretching Elah as he curved them. “I was human. And beaten worse than you are now. Two of his men held me and my dick was in a vise. Count yourself lucky.”
The crowd began to mutter, likely bored with how long Daederich was taking to prepare him. Daederich bowed his head kissing Elah’s throat as he withdrew his fingers.
“To a hunter, this is the greatest shame. I understand. But you will live to see Cyrus buried. If you don’t consider that worth any debasement, I don’t know you at all.”
The End (Deadly Captive Book 3) Page 5
