by Rachel Jonas
These feelings—regardless of how they came to be—were only real.
He’d helped me see that.
“Don’t,” a gruff voice warned. I wasn’t sure what she meant, until a tissue was dabbed into the corner of my eye. Apparently, I was beginning to tear up and the one who acted as the makeup artist wouldn’t have me ruining her work.
I got ahold of myself and refocused. Tonight was too important to let emotion cloud my judgment. Not when the likelihood of me having to make several split-second decisions was extremely high.
Purple satin was slipped over my head after I was ordered to stand. With me on my feet, the loose waves that had been pinned to the top of my head were released, and the length of them fell down around my shoulders. There were a few more minutes of primping and preening before I was helped into a pair of black, strappy heels that took me from tall to towering over most of the girls like an amazon.
“Come.”
The same woman who yelled at me for nearly ruining my face snapped her fingers, and I guessed I was meant to follow her. We weaved those same hallways as before, but this time the stares had intensified. Men and women alike followed me with their gazes, until we disappeared in yet another stairwell, heading up three more flights.
A heavy door screeched open when she pushed it, and I nearly stopped in my tracks. It seemed that, with each floor we’d ascended, the accommodations improved.
Greatly.
This level was, clearly, where the most effort had been made. My high-heels clicked over freshly polished marble floors, in which I could see my reflection. The walls were covered in beautiful stonework, trimmed with colorful borders that brought a touch of life to the otherwise plain space. It was all so finely crafted. Not a dollar had been spared, not a detail overlooked.
Elaborate chandeliers hung at the centers of decorative, ceiling medallions, bathing the space in warm light. And at the end of the broad hallway, a door.
Standing at either side, two guards took their posts so seriously their faces were completely void of expression. My heart pounded, knowing who likely waited across the threshold.
My escort’s steps halted and I glanced toward her. Her gaze never met mine, but a simple gesture with her hand made it clear I was meant to move forward on my own from here.
I recalled the things I’d discussed with Levi, the failsafe he insisted I blurt if things became volatile. But I didn’t want to think about that. Right now, I needed to just charge forward and get this over with, so I could discover what more there was to know.
The sound of my own footsteps unnerved me, but I didn’t slow my pace. Making it to the double-doors, I waited as the guards parted them. I didn’t enter right away, just surveyed the large room that seemed more like living quarters. Maybe that’s exactly what it was—Aaric’s private residence.
My steps echoed again when I decided to move, and as soon as I cleared the doors, they were closed behind me. I lowered my arms from where I kept them folded across my chest, using the purple satin dress to dry my palms a bit.
Candles placed on nearly every surface was all that lit the space. The far wall was composed of one massive window, and with the cloudless sky beyond it, the moon glowed large and full.
“Thank you for joining me.”
My eyes darted from one corner of the room to another. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the depth of the sultry baritone touched my ears. The voice bore the same old-world intonations I’d grown accustomed to hearing spoken by Levi, but it was somehow a much darker sound coming from this source.
Searching, I finally found him.
Well … kind of.
I could only make out a silhouette seated at the far end of a lengthy dining table. I’d noticed the piece before, but wasn’t certain whether he’d been sitting there all along, or if he’d crept into the room while I gawked at his antiquities. A gold-plated telescope sat near the window. A beautiful grandfather clock stood beside the hearth, where a fire roared.
I did my best to peer through the darkness, but couldn’t make out any of his features—not the color or length of his hair, not the details of his face. It was as if I were about to dine with a ghost.
“Do you like the dress?”
My gaze fell down to it when he asked, bridling my tongue when a snide answer popped into my head.
“It’s … nice,” I sighed.
He stared in silence a moment.
“Will you sit with me?” Those velvety words fell from his lips as if I had a choice.
Again, stifling a rebuttal, I moved toward the table. Even without him saying the words himself, I knew he meant to keep distance between us. I dropped down into the seat at the opposite head of the table, beside a candle. Its glare blinded me from seeing him even more, but I wasn’t entirely certain that hadn’t been his intention.
“You’re a Doll,” he stated, no doubt observing the glaring mark on my shoulder that this dress didn’t conceal beneath its thin straps.
Nodding, I kept what Levi advised in mind.
‘Answer his questions, but be vague…’
“I am.”
“Do you know where we are?” he hesitated to ask.
I swallowed quickly. “I do. Blackthorn Sanatorium.”
“And … do you know anything of this facilities history?”
My patience was thin, and growing thinner with each question he asked. Mostly because none of our questions had been answered since we arrived.
“I know this is its third life,” I offered. “Its first was when it served its intended purpose—as an asylum. The second was when Ian Percival turned it into his … funhouse.”
Speaking of it forced me to recall some of the stories I heard about Dr. Percival’s experiments—on humans, on his own people.
“Hmm,” Aaric uttered thoughtfully. “It seems you’re more than just a pretty face after all.”
Unsure of what to make of the backhanded compliment, I sat silent and motionless.
“Has anyone given you a tour yet?”
I frowned.
Was he kidding?
“I’ll take your silence as a firm no,” he snickered. “Well, this entire section of the facility was established as Dr. Percival’s personal quarters. As I’m sure you can imagine, his experiments often left him too mentally exhausted to make the trek home, so he often spent his nights here.”
Deciding not to speak, I looked around the room again. It was easy to imagine the monster himself unwinding with a fresh glass of blood in hand, relaxing after a long day of inflicting pain and misery on his test subjects.
“You’re a Roamer, aren’t you?” I blurted. “If I’ve come to properly understand your collective mindset … you hate Dr. Percival, don’t you? For how he’s fought to oppress your population?” I paused, trying to steady my breaths when those words hit too close to home. “How can you even … be here? Surrounded by his work, his memory?”
My skin crawled just at the thought of it.
Aaric sat quietly at the other end, and I couldn’t help but to wonder if I said too much, if I somehow overstepped my boundaries. It wouldn’t be hard to do, considering I had no idea what those boundaries were.
“Why am I here?” I asked this question, thinking he might be slightly less adverse to answering.
“Because I thought it was time we meet,” he answered, missing the point. “You have to admit, it’s a bit peculiar that a Doll belonging to one of the Dynasty’s beloved princes would get herself into so much trouble at one of my races.”
One of his races?
That remark alone raised so many questions, but I had to run damage control first. If he thought I was just a Doll, it seemed he had no clue who I was, or that I, technically, belonged to all four princes. Not just Levi.
“I take it it’s been a while since you’ve tuned into a Dynasty broadcast?”
He hesitated to answer. “Our connection was severed by the Tech Regulation Department just over a month ago, when they det
ected us hacking into their signal. And since our usual, go-to guy is no longer with us, we’re all, admittedly, a bit out of touch.”
My team had also encountered a close scrape or two with the Tech-Reg Department, but Felix had been clever enough to bypass them. It didn’t sound like Aaric’s crew had gotten as lucky.
“Have we … missed something vital?” he asked, and I could hardly believe he thought I’d actually answer that question.
“Nothing you haven’t already deduced on your own,” I lied. “For instance, that Levi’s taken me as a Doll. And, for the record, I participate in the races because he indulges my interests. Racing just so happens to be one of them.”
When Aaric stayed silent, my nerves kicked into overdrive.
“And I call B.S.,” I blurted, deflecting yet again. “You didn’t invite me here because I’m Levi’s Doll. You didn’t even know I was marked before tonight. Neither did your men,” I accused.
I was certain that, had it not been for the skimpy dress he put me in, he still wouldn’t have had a clue.
Despite the blinding flames before my eyes, I felt him glaring.
“But that’s beside the point,” I continued, “because I wasn’t asking why I’m seated at your table. I want to know why you’re holding us here? Why we were taken in the first place?” I was nearly panting with frustration. “Your guard made it clear this isn’t about money, so what is it?”
This would have been the perfect time to see his face, to gage his disposition. For all I knew, my words were riling him up, and I was in grave danger.
“You Dolls have it so good—wealthy men wrapped around your fingers, footing the bill for whatever whim your heart desires—and yet … you expect me to believe you’d risk all that to contend at my races.”
Apparently, he decided to completely ignore my inquiry, continuing on with his own investigation. And this wasn’t a question he posed, but rather a statement he had already deemed a fact.
“Tell me why we’re here?” I reiterated.
At his end of the table, the base of a thin glass touched down on the surface and I imagined him sitting there, sipping either wine or blood—this creature I couldn’t identify.
“You’re clever, but not nearly as clever as you think you are. Because if you were, you’d realize you’re asking the wrong question.”
There was something sinister buried within his polite tone.
“Then … what’s the right question?” I dared to inquire.
That glass touched the table again. “It’s not a matter of why you were captured,” he replied. “What you should be wondering is …why haven’t I killed you yet?”
The room felt about ten degrees colder. When the door I entered through opened again, my eyes darted toward it. A tall man came in, wheeling a cart in front of him. He approached and the metal dome he brought with him was placed before me. As he lifted the lid—to reveal what looked like a delicious meal of chicken and vegetables beneath it—I was surprised to find I’d lost my appetite.
The server lingered a moment, perhaps thinking I’d thank him, but it wasn’t going to happen. Eventually, he exited, leaving me alone with the one I suddenly feared more than when I first found him sitting here in the darkness.
“Your guard said … he said we were picked up because they recognized Levi. He also called us hostages instead of prisoners, which means that if this isn’t about money, we’re … leverage? So, if that’s the case, all I’m asking is for what? What is it you hope to gain?”
There was silence at Aaric’s end of the table. It lasted so long I thought he wouldn’t answer.
“Ianites aren’t the only ones with obligations. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Frustration came to a boil within me and I shoved the plate of cooling food aside, unconcerned with whether I offended him or not.
Peering up in his direction, I made out nothing more than half his silhouette, illuminated by the amber glow of a distant candle. I could only imagine he stared at me as I stared at what I could see of him.
“Is there something wrong with the food, or are you simply too good to eat at this table with a commoner?” There was no missing the anger in his tone.
I settled deeper into my seat, crossing both arms over my chest. “Your words, not mine.”
His heavy fist slammed down on the table and I flinched. The force of it rattled the centerpiece. “Show some respect!” his voice boomed.
With how wildly my heart beat, I would have bet he heard it even with the distance between us. I swallowed hard, hoping to steady it.
“Your kind, the entire population of spoiled, entitled whores you represent … disgust me,” he seethed. “One would think a prince would have chosen his Doll more carefully, perhaps selecting one with manners, but it’s clear his standards were only physical in nature.”
His thoughts toward Dolls were oddly similar to my own, but it was hard to acknowledge when, this time, I was the one being judged.
“What sort of filth-of-the-Earth woman abandons her own kind, simply for the promise of a warm bed and fancy clothes?”
Tension spread across my forehead as the confliction within me heightened—agreeing with Aaric’s logic and feeling defensive of myself all at once. I held my composure, remembering the important role I had to play.
What would a Doll do, hearing someone speak so critically of her life choices?
She’d push back.
“Those are powerfully judgmental words coming from a coward who hides in the shadows of his own home.”
“Mind your tongue, girl,” he warned.
“I’m just saying…” I’d never been good at taking orders. So, naturally, I pushed again. “It’s very interesting that you sit up here, all safe and sound, tucked away like some … damsel locked inside her bell tower,” I spat. “I’d love to see how you get along outside in the real world, without your minions to protect you.”
It didn’t take long to realize I’d hit a nerve.
How’d I know?
The dark blur rushing straight for me was a dead giveaway.
With a mighty gush of wind, Aaric’s ascent caused each candle he passed to simultaneously lose its light. One by one, their dancing orange flames faded into smoke. He made it to my end of the table in what felt like half a second, maybe long enough to blink. My lungs burned when I sucked in a rapid breath, one I barely had time to release before a large foot hooked the bar beneath my chair, tipping it with so much force I feared it would shatter upon hitting the tile. I was so certain of it, I braced for impact.
Only, the loud crash and pain I anticipated never came.
It should have been impossible for him to have time to catch me before I hit the floor, but he had. Instead, it was lowered with control, until the back touched down with a gentle thud.
Strands of my hair settled over my face, moving with every breath I took. Lying there, I gripped the arms of my chair as Aaric’s presence covered me.
He lowered, snatching both hands above my head where he pinned them, straddling my waist next, locking me between his powerful thighs. I was completely at his mercy, restrained beneath him as I breathed in his scent—mint and leather.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, breathing the words against my ear as I panted, unable to speak or even move.
“No, no, no … don’t turn away now,” he taunted. “You provoked the beast to rise. Well, here he is.”
The depth of his voice shook me to the core, striking fear in me that I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling. Sweat dampened my skin and I wanted to open my eyes.
Wanted to.
But Couldn’t.
“Look at me,” he seethed.
When I failed to comply, his firm hand took my chin, jerking my face toward his.
“Look at me!”
Shaking, I couldn’t will myself to obey, defying his loudly spoken demand. It wasn’t until I felt his breath against my throat that I envisioned exactly what lie ahead for me
.
A violent and bloody death.
“Stop! Please … stop!” My voice quivered, and to my surprise, he halted but left his teeth braced over my skin. “You don’t want to do that, because I’m … I’m not who you think I am,” I shared hesitantly, a last-ditch effort to convince him to spare my life.
“I’m … not just a Doll.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Corina
My revelation caused Aaric to retreat, and in a sudden rush of courage, I willed myself to finally look at him.
Slowly lifting my lids, I overcame the fear within me. At first, I couldn’t make out more than an outline of his features—vague shadows and infrequent glints of moonlight on pale skin. But then, I really saw him.
It shouldn’t have surprised me that he was beautiful. Most of them were, but he’d been particularly cruel, which painted a terrible picture of him in my head. I now knew that image had been wrong.
Hair the color of sand was cropped low on both sides, but a mess of short, untamed curls seemed to fight for dominance at the crown of his head. I wasn’t sure before, but now knew he was young. Low-trimmed stubble framed his plump lips, also emphasizing a wicked jawline so chiseled it kicked his ferocious appearance into overdrive. But those striking features weren’t even what captured my attention.
It was another detail, something that left me thinking I was losing my mind. Like, for real this time.
His eyes, they shimmered in that catlike way I’d seen before, boasting the rare silver I now knew so well.
“But that’s not … that’s impossible,” I stammered.
I’d nearly forgotten that my life was in danger as I wrestled with this new piece of information, wondering if it was some sort of trick, or—
“Speak, or I swear on everything I love, I’ll rip your throat out with my teeth,” Aaric warned, promptly reminding me of the danger that nearly slipped my thoughts. Something about the way he said it led me to believe he would have enjoyed that tremendously.
