Текст книги "Darkest distiny"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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Chapter Fourteen

PAIN.

That was all I knew, all I was, all I would ever be.

Decades of agony.

Years of misery.

Gritting my teeth, I balled my hands where I sat cross-legged on my bed. I braced against the current onslaught. The burning, twisting, stinging agony that bled from the vitalsync core. That fucking machine injected poison straight into my heart, making it pump despair around my veins with every beat.

Sweat broke out on my temples as I did my best to ride through this particular punishment. My breath came short, my muscles locked tight. My blood was on fire, turning into the very magma that my company harnessed.

“Fuck...” Gripping my knees, I tried to stay upright but another gush of red-hot agony sent me convulsing forward.

Groaning, I hugged my middle, rocking through the worst of it.

No one came.

I had no reprieve, no help—completely abandoned to darkness.

As my vision blackened at the edges, the only chance I had at stopping a forced blackout was to lower my racing heartbeat. To stop it from siphoning the chemicals through my system.

Breathe.

I clenched my jaw, doing my best to sit upright.

In, out. In, out.

After so many years, I’d hoped I would become numb to the drugs they fed me. That I’d somehow build up a tolerance or immunity, and the burning pain would eventually fade.

But either my body liked being tortured or the people on the other end of my misery kept tweaking the dose, just enough that I could never overcome it.

My heart pounded in my ears.

The soft beeping of the vitalsync core warned that my pulse was nearing the limit that automatically triggered a sedative.

Their one weapon against me—rigged to torment me and prevent me from taking my life—tortured me until I almost broke.

I’d begged for death for so long. I’d screamed and howled for years. I’d begged and pleaded for someone, anyone, to end me.

Before they sent women in to toy with me, I’d hunted this entire estate for something that could kill me quickly—before my heart rate spiked and they administered the knock-out drug.

But there was nothing weapon-like in this place.

And each time I tried to hang myself with a curtain tie-back or suffer a tragic fall down the stairs, my racing heart and adrenaline betrayed me, and they knocked me out before I could succeed.

With no knives in the kitchen, no swords in the armoury, and no tools in the workshop, I didn’t stand a chance. Even the rooftop had platforms beneath it—terraces of stone that would catch me too quick to kill me.

My only option was to let them do it.

To close my eyes when they came sneaking and stay still as they tried to slaughter me. That would solve one problem. Unfortunately, I had too many others that wouldn’t be solved so easily.

And because of that...I had to stay breathing. Stay fighting. Stay ready.

Because revenge was the only thing keeping me clinging to life and one day I will have my vengeance.

Balling my hands, I forced myself to stop thinking about dreams that might never happen. I focused on the current nightmare instead, my thoughts tumbling to her.

I sucked in a breath as my heart rate spiked just thinking about her.

The beeping came again, and I closed my eyes, doing my best to lower my pulse so they didn’t inject whatever anaesthesia kept me pliant.

What made her so different that the burning in my body seemed to pause around her?

Was she their spy? Had they tampered with her biological make-up like they’d tampered with mine? Ensuring she acted like the antidote I needed, making me lower my guard, only to break me that much quicker?

I might’ve fallen for their games in the past, but this time, no fucking way would I let them find another to make my life a living hell. I knew they were ultimately trying to break my spirit—to make me pliant instead of clinging to my revenge. But I’d stayed this sane for this long, purely so I could make every single one of them pay.

Footfalls sounded, heavy and stealthy.

My shoulders rounded in heavy gratitude. “You’re finally back, you traitorous cat.”

The panther—that’d been my one and only friend ever since Marcus gave him to me on my fifteenth birthday—prowled through my room, leapt onto the bed, and sat directly beside me. His muscular bulk was as big as me sitting upright, and I did what I’d always done when the pain got this bad.

Wrapping my arms around the giant beast, I buried my face into its scruff and—

“Why do I smell honeyed meat?”

That was the thing about captivity.

It heightened your senses to almost supernatural degrees. In the backdrop of endless boredom and eternal sameness, even the barest difference blared so loudly, so vibrantly, it was an assault on my ears, eyes, and nose.

Anything different was a threat. Anything new was the enemy. Being constantly on edge had honed my survival instincts to the point I almost had a sixth sense. In a way, I’d turned into a spider, hulking in the middle of my web, feeling the vibrations of everyone trapped within it.

The panther licked his lips, looking away with a guilty wince.

Not for the first time, I wondered if he was genetically different like me. He seemed to understand everything I said to him, but then again, he was my only form of company—given to me mainly because I was going certifiably insane in isolation. Some psychologist in some textbook would say I’d projected my humanness onto him which made me believe he was different to all the rest.

But then again, they didn’t know the scientific breakthroughs Brimstone Industries had performed. I had no doubt my only companion had been caught to be tested on or was perhaps an unlucky kitten, born into a cage just like me.

At least his fate of being incarcerated with me was better than the other animals being used to synthesise my DNA. When Marcus used to visit me—before I’d tried to kill him too many times—he’d quite gleefully told me how hard the scientists were working to not only copy my blood but to create something that would manufacture it. Either machine or living, they wouldn’t stop until I became obsolete and they no longer needed me.

“She fed you, didn’t she?” I asked, sweat rolling down my back from the sickly heat in my veins. “Are you stupid? What have I told you about staying away from them? They’ll hurt you.”

Pulling away, denying myself the comfort of his closeness, I bared my teeth. “She’s worse than all of them combined.”

He looked at me with his golden eyes. He arched an eyebrow, almost as if reminding me that I’d given her one of my very precious Cryolyt pills that I’d been hoarding. I only had eleven—each pill a yearly salary for eleven years of my obedience. Rewards for good behaviour Marcus had called it. I called it a bribe. A bribe to stop me maiming the traitorous bastards who came into my home to harvest my blood every three days.

After nine years of their visits. After nine awful years of being held down and stabbed with needles, I’d had enough and agreed to do it for them. I’d agreed to farm myself, so I didn’t have to see the men who’d hurt me so badly.

Each Cryolyt pill could apparently take my pain away for twelve hours.

I’d planned on using them when I escaped. To be pain-free long enough to slaughter every single one of them before their pain chains took me down.

And I’d stupidly, for some inexplicable reason, given one to the girl who’d passed out from sheer fright the day we met in the ballroom.

“Don’t give me that look.” I shuddered, hugging myself as the pain continued to burn. “She’s a better actress, better liar than all of them. I made a mistake thinking she was different, so don’t follow my example. Keep your distance.”

With a huff, Whisper shook out his bulk and lay down.

And I lay down beside him, quaking with pain and wondering how much longer I’d have to suffer before fate finally granted my wish for all of this to be over...

Chapter Fifteen

THREE MORE DAYS PASSED AND THEY weren’t...good.

By night, I sat on the outskirts of the flaming torches, braziers, and lanterns. I didn’t dare venture into hell or wander the gravel pathways. I didn’t want to give Lucien a reason to kill me or watch another murder in action.

But keeping my distance didn’t mean I was safe from hearing the screams. The quick shouts of surprise. The screeches of the female assassins who thought they could exterminate a man with a panther as his bodyguard.

I’d return to my bed and huddle beneath the blankets, begging for sleep to carry me away only to turn into an insomniac with panic. My only reprieve was Whisper. The black beast appeared after his master had finished killing, and I no longer questioned my sanity as I scooted back in bed, opened my arms, and almost burst into grateful tears as the giant feline collapsed beside me.

I’d learned ‘it’ was actually a boy. And he didn’t grumble as I bear-hugged him. He didn’t bite me as I buried my face in his soft scruff. He didn’t grant me the gift of sleep, but at least his company stopped me from completely losing my mind.

The nights were scary, but the days were worse.

With the light, I’d go for a walk around the estate, doing my best to get some exercise so I could become tired enough to sleep and forget. I tried to focus on the lake or gardens, pagodas and mazes, yet each morning, black-suited men drove in through the gates they’d shoved us through and parked in front of the black stone palace.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I found a bench to sit on, waiting to see what they were up to. Perhaps they were bringing supplies—stocking up all the women’s pavilions and whatever other pantries existed in Lucien’s stronghold.

Only...they weren’t bringing things in; they were taking things out.

The first day, two bodies wrapped in bloody sheets were removed—shoved unceremoniously into the back of a G-wagon. The second day, another three. The third day, just one.

Lucien, it seemed, had been telling the truth that he wouldn’t grant mercy to any of us. Judging by the six bodies, there were now six less women trying to kill or seduce him.

By the seventh morning, my emotions were rubbed raw.

Sleep—my one saving grace—had abandoned me, and every nerve stung with over sensitivity and stress.

Lying in bed and drenched in sunshine, something inside my skull tightened—an invisible fist around my throbbing, broken brain. Light fractured along the edge of my vision.

God, not now.

Please.

I sat up and leaned forward. Elbows on my knees, I pressed my fingers into my eyes. The old tricks: counting backward from a hundred, slowing my breath, visualising a different place—none of it helped.

The pain in my head grew worse.

Birdsong and the babbling stream outside became distorted and almost evil. A sharp pain lanced behind my right eye.

“Get it together, Rook. You can’t do this. Not here.”

Forcing myself upright, I staggered out of bed and lurched outside.

When I got this bad, I needed extra strength painkillers. And sometimes, even then, they didn’t work. But in here, on my own, with no access to help...

The sky swooped. My stomach lurched. The trees and flowers multiplied and melted into one. I made it two steps before my knees forgot what knees were for. My hands hit the grass, followed by the rest of my body. A dirty, familiar taste flooded my mouth—old pennies and sour lemons.

The world funnelled to a thin, echoey tunnel.

“Breathe,” I gasped. “Don’t pass out. Don’t—”

A shadow fell across me. For one panicked beat, I thought Lucien had finally come to finish me off. That he’d kill me while I hurt so badly. I supposed I should be grateful. Thankful that any second, this awful pain would end and this useless body of mine would stop torturing me, but a soft chuff and a cold nose came instead of death.

“Whisper.” My vision continued to splutter and bleed.

The panther circled, close enough that he warmed the air around me, his tail looping around my neck.

If I passed out, would he stop trying to be friendly and just accept me as his daily snack?

My headache burrowed behind my eyes, like a demon intending to hatch in my brain. Falling over, I curled up on my side. The move detonated a new pain—a white flash of light.

Whisper’s breath washed over my cheek. A deep, thrumming purr vibrated as he sniffed my neck where my pulse fluttered like a trapped bird.

“I’m fine,” I groaned, holding my stomach as it decided to join in the pain with shooting shards of despair. “I’m just...tired.”

I felt teeth on the back of my satin robe.

The material tugged, pulling up around my ears.

“Hey.” I choked as lights popped and I almost retched. “Stop that—”

The huge cat tried to drag me like his kill, tugging me across the lawn.

“Whisper!” I groaned as he dragged me boneless toward the courtyard exit. “Stop.”

My nightgown choked me. My body forsook me.

And the last thing I saw was the sun exploding into a golden firework.

It blinded me, burned me—

I passed out.

Chapter Sixteen

“OKAY, CALM DOWN. JESUS, QUIT IT.  What the hell has gotten into you, you bloody cat?”

That voice.

Rich and deep and husky.

Lucien’s baritone echoed down a very long tunnel, far, far away.

“Huh.” The sounds of footsteps stopped. “Did you kill her?”

My head ached and ached and ached.

Something touched my neck—cool and curt as if it didn’t want to touch me at all.

“So you didn’t kill her. Pity.” The touch went away. “Why did you bring me here if it’s not to clean up a corpse?”

A feline snarl followed by an echoing hiss.

“You expect me to help her?” Scorn replaced shock. “Why? What the hell has she done to you that you’ve gotten so attached?”

Another hiss, followed by a nudge.

“Ugh, you’re such a pain in my ass.” Lucien’s voice travelled from the crushing darkness, wrapping me in an even darker blanket. “Fine. I’ll try. You happy?”

Whisper hmphed.

Lucien grumbled, sounding part panther himself. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right? She’s just like the others. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The cat snarled quietly.

“Fine. Whatever. See if I care.” His shadow loomed closer. “I’ll help but only because you’re a fool.”

Whisper didn’t reply as strong, muscular arms hooked under my knees and shoulders. Lucien’s voice came again. “Don’t blame me if she still dies.” Adding under his breath, he muttered, “Even if I do manage to help her, I might just kill her tomorrow when she proves me right.”

The ground fell away. Heat pressed against my cheek as I fell into his embrace. His firm chest cradled me, his heartbeat skipping strangely like mine.

Dizziness tried to drag me under again, but I fought to stay lucid. I willed my brain to wake up. To open my eyes—

Fabric whispered as the soft mattress that’d been mine for over a week took my weight.

Everything blended into one as I teetered on the edge of awake and unconsciousness.

How long had I passed out?

Why did this feel different to a usual episode? Lingering and sticky and ever so hard to get free from?

“Do you think she’s allergic to something?” Lucien’s fingers pressed to my throat again, lingering on my pulse. The cool pressure travelled to my wrist, my temple, the spot behind my ear where pain bloomed like smoky fireworks.

Sitting beside me on the bed, his presence soaked into me. He cleared his throat, directing his words at me instead of his pet. “They don’t allow me to keep any medicine.” Disgust tainted his voice—I didn’t know if it was toward the people keeping him captive or to me. “I’d sooner just put you out of your misery and be done with it. But you seem to have done something to my cat.”

Leaning over me, he whispered, “If I find out you’re using him to get to me—if you dare hurt him—I’ll rip out your heart and feed it to him.”

A quiet hiss as if Whisper could speak English and had overheard Lucien threatening me.

“Fuck, you’re a pain,” Lucien cursed. “What the hell has gotten into you? She’s just a girl. Just another liar. Another murderous little pretender.”

Whisper didn’t respond and Lucien exhaled heavily.

Time paused or my mind skipped, but finally, his annoyance cut through my gluey fog. “Like I said, if she dies today, it’s not my fault. Don’t sulk just because you went and got attached to one of their little rats.”

Rat?

Who the hell is he calling a rat?

His hand lashed around my wrist, his thumb finding my pulse again. “I’m not a doctor and I don’t have anything to help.” His voice seemed directed at me again, returning to that callous ice. “And those bastards who shoved you in here don’t care if you live or die.”

The heavy bulk of Whisper’s warm velveteen body pressed against my side as if he’d lain down in protest. Two hundred pounds of panther hugged me like a living sandbag.

“You really are a traitor,” Lucien mumbled.

The cat huffed.

“Fuck it.” Lucien shifted. He sucked in a sharp breath as the bed shuddered. The panther went rigid beside me. “I’ll do what Whisper wants. At least if this doesn’t work, you’ll just be one more dead girl I don’t have to bother with.”

Something pushed against my lips.

Not a cup. Not glass or porcelain.

Skin.

Hot, male skin.

His hand grabbed my cheeks, squeezing the hinge of my jaw and making my mouth open.

Metallic, warm liquid soaked onto my tongue, bitter and sharp.

It tasted wrong.

My body reacted, trying to reject whatever it was.

Survival instinct jerked me out the quagmire I’d fallen into. Motor control came back, and I fought him off weakly. I tried to stop him administering whatever it was he force-fed me.

“Don’t be stubborn.” Cupping the back of my head, he kept me trapped. “Swallow.”

My gag reflex kicked in, not giving me a choice.

I swallowed against my control.

And winced as the full flavour of what he’d given me exploded.

Copper and salt.

Blood.

My eyes flew open, locking onto his.

“More.” The bed dipped as he leaned closer. The shadow of his face hovered over mine like an eclipse. His fingers moved to my nose, pinching off my air.

My eyes widened in panic.

“Another mouthful and then I’ll let you go.” He held his wrist tight against my lips. “Do it.”

I thrashed but was no match.

His blood trickled down my throat—

I swallowed again on reflex.

He let me go.

My stomach churned as I shot upright, leaning over the edge of the bed to retch.

He pushed me back down with an arrogant sniff. “You throw that up and I’ll kill you right now.”

His eyes burned with truth. His voice full of violent certainty.

I gagged and slammed both hands over my mouth. The surge of nausea rose fierce and hot.

“You’ve been warned,” he murmured.

Fresh sweat broke across my skin as I broke out in shudders. The world came back into blaring colour, sharp and detailed. My tongue dragged over my teeth, tasting iron.

He was too close. Far, far too close.

I almost gagged again.

He raised an eyebrow, daring me.

Doing my best to think about anything other than the fact he’d just fed me his blood, I blurted, “Why did you do that? What the hell were you thinking?”

Holding up his wrist, he revealed the decent cut he’d caused. A long thin line, red and sore sat directly in front of the silver cuff locked tight around him. He smirked at my shock. “Is this you trying to pretend, again, that you don’t know who I am?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not pretending.”

His smirk shifted to a scowl. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t really care what you believe. It’s the truth.”

He leaned back a little, the first flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.

A long moment passed before he muttered, “You truly don’t know?”

A tremble went down my spine that had nothing to do with the fact that he made every part of my body come alive and everything to do with the fact that beneath his hate and fury existed a depth of pain and loneliness so vast, it mirrored my own.

It was the kind of agony that ate through skin and bone until all that was left was a toxic blend of wariness and hope.

He made it impossible for me to see him as a monster. I only saw a man who’d been caged too long. And for an impossible second, it felt as if we stared through the same prison bars.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell and making my cheeks go pink.

Looking away, I fumbled with the blankets just like I fumbled with something to say. “A-Are you saying you’re finally ready to believe me?”

He sucked in a breath and sat taller, his eyes turning frosty again. “No. But no one can act as dumb as you for long.”

My chin shot up as indignation flared. “Your bedside manner could really do with some work.”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for my traitorous cat.” He glowered at Whisper who hadn’t budged from my side. “He’s the reason I saved you. If it were up to me, I would’ve just let you die.”

“That’s a bit dramatic. And pompous, actually. I wouldn’t have died. I just have these attacks—”

“Regardless. You’re welcome.”

“Why wouldn’t you have helped me?” I held his glower. “Because I’m just a rat to you?”

He scowled. “Eavesdropping on private conversations now?”

“Hard not to when you’re right here.”

“Careful,” he purred. “Just because Whisper likes you doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

All those feelings he’d invoked boomeranged back with scorn. What had I been thinking? Any signs of fragility I’d seen in him must’ve been a trick of the light.

I smiled, a little unhinged. “You know what? Thanks for helping me in whatever weird way you did, but I really, really don’t like you.”

“Oh, look.” His smirk returned. “We’ve finally found something we have in common.”

Eyeing up the blood still oozing from his wrist, he held up his hand. “Fancy some more?”

“Not even if you paid me.”

He stilled, genuine shock making him frown. “You’re telling the truth.”

“And finally, you believe me.”

“I...I think you might be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want it.”

“Want what?” My eyebrows flew up. “Your blood?”

He shrugged as if he didn’t care but...something pinched his eyes. Nervousness? Self-consciousness?

Who the hell is this man?

His confession that he’d found me noisy the other night—after just a few sentences—hinted he’d lived a very silent, very lonely existence, and...I had no explanation for how that affected me.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “Who are you?”

His gaze snapped to mine, narrowed and cold. “Still doubling down on not knowing me? Alright, let’s see how long you can keep this going.”

“Didn’t you just say that no one could remain as stupid as me and not get caught in a lie?”

“Sometimes stupidity wins over smarts.”

“Stop calling me stupid.”

“Stop acting like it then.” He bared his teeth. “And stop being so fucking infuriating.”

“As long as I’m infuriating, you won’t kill me.”

“Are you so sure about that?” He leaned forward a little, his gaze landing on my throat.

“No, I’m not sure.” I shuffled away and placed my hand on Whisper’s head. The panther chuffed happily just as Lucien’s eyes snapped to where I touched his panther.

Uh-oh.

His glare crawled up to mine and stayed there. “You might have fooled that dumb beast, but you won’t fool me.”

I pressed both hands over Whisper’s adorable flicking ears. “Don’t call him dumb.”

“Just stating the truth seeing as he fell for your tricks.” Inhaling hard, he snapped, “Tell me. How did you earn his loyalty enough for him to drag me here?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Liar—”

“Are you always this argumentative?” I snapped.

“When dealing with people who want to harm me? Yes.”

“Oh, my God.” I punched the blankets. “Have you not been listening? I don’t know you. I don’t know anything about you. That’s the truth and no matter how much you suspect me, it won’t change!”

Silence fell, letting our argument fall and fade away.

Nodding once, he grabbed the hem of his black shirt and brought it to his mouth. A glimpse of his bare stomach had my insides clenching. Watching him bite the edge of the fabric and tearing a strip off it made me shiver with unexplainable things.

I couldn’t look away as he tied the makeshift bandage around his still bleeding wrist.

Everything he did made me feel tight and tangled inside.

He was the sort of beautiful that made common sense take a running leap out of the window—an ancient, untamed heritage of blended beauty and lethal edges. The sweep of his cheekbones, ink-dark eyes, and blue-black hair, made wickedly indecent thoughts come to mind. Especially with him on my bed.

My gaze dropped to his lips, hating the perfection.

His mouth was utterly indecent for a man who took pleasure in death—it looked as if he should take pleasure in other things. Carnal things.

“You’re looking at me again,” he said icily.

My cheeks flared as I focused on his hands as he finished tying the makeshift bandage. His skin was flawless. The way he moved reminded me so much of his panther, that I once again struggled with fantasy overlapping reality, wondering what sort of fairytale I’d fallen into.

With a curse under his breath, he planted his palms behind him, kicked out his legs, and crossed his ankles—lazy as the feline behind him. Every line of him said calm but his eyes sparked with sultry warning just waiting for an excuse to hurt me. “Alright then.”  He tipped his head, hair sliding across his collar. “I’ll play.”

I swallowed hard, blinking away whatever spell he’d cast on me. “Play what?”

“You haven’t heard of Brimstone Industries?”

“Nope.” I frowned, searching my mind and all those years I’d worked in Snowflake Corp before I couldn’t. “At least, I don’t think I have.”

“You haven’t heard of the Ashfall dynasty?”

“If I’d come across an article with you in it, I would’ve remembered.” I rolled my eyes. “Believe me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Oh, God.

Rook...you idiot.

My cheeks flamed.

If he truly had spent the last twenty years in here alone, I doubted he would have the social skills to see my embarrassment and deftly grant me another question.

Instead, he never looked away from me, rage building with every breath.

“Eh, you know...” I waved at him as if it was obvious. “Give me some self-respect so I don’t have to say it out loud.”

“Say what out loud?”

“Oh, come on, really?”

“Come on?” He scowled. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean...”

Ugh, fine.

Sucking in a fortifying breath, I blurted, “You have to know what you look like?” I rolled my eyes, finding it far too easy to talk to him, despite the fact that each night he went hunting and each morning more bodies were dragged out.

“What I look like?”

Okay, this had gone on long enough.

He hadn’t killed me yet. He’d actually saved me—somehow. I felt better than I had in ages. He’d come at the behest of his panther and for some inexplicable reason, I didn’t want this conversation to end, even though my heart pounded with nerves.

I was drawn to him despite myself.

Highly aware of him in every part of me.

Yes, he was a killer but...hadn’t that all been in self-defence?

“Alright, don’t murder me for this, but...” I inched closer to Whisper and scratched his scruff, hoping he would come to my rescue if my honesty backfired. “I would’ve remembered you if I’d ever seen an article about you because you’re gorgeous, okay?” My mouth ran away with me, my filter completely gone. “You’re not just gorgeous, you’re...” I blushed so hot, I could’ve roasted marshmallows on my cheeks. “Obscene. You’re the sort of beautiful that should come with a hundred hazard labels and a two-hour safety briefing. There. I said it. Happy?”

He stared for the longest moment before saying dryly, “Is this you trying to get me to have sex with you?”

My brain crashed back into the episode from before. “What? No. Obviously not. I—” Words skidded everywhere. “I-I was paying you a compliment.”

“It won’t work. I won’t sleep with you.”

“Did I ask you to?”

“Sounds like you just did.”

I fought the urge to rub away my shame induced goosebumps. “Well, you’re safe. I’m not looking for that.”

I didn’t dare tell him that I was one of the rare ones who hadn’t tumbled into bed with someone yet. I’d been a little too messed up, for a little too long, to attract a partner in that way.

In the art of seduction, I’d flunked well and truly.

“You’re not?” His eyebrows arched with such innocence, such shock, he made my heart patter. A question escaped me before I could censor. “Why...why does everyone want to get knocked up by you?”

His expression didn’t change, but something dark pooled behind his eyes.

I sighed, expecting him to refuse to answer me. After all, we were strangers and technically enemies, but then he lifted his hand and glanced at his wrist, bound with its black bandage. The centre glimmered wet, revealing he hadn’t stopped bleeding. “Because of this.”

“For your blood?” Suspicion iced my spine. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.” His gaze cut to the door, his body tensing to leave. “What does matter is they’ll kill for it.”

“Why?” I asked again. I didn’t want him to leave. Not until I had some answers. Perhaps if I understood this prison, I would be able to sleep again. I’d be able to relax and not rush headfirst into another attack.

His fingers strayed to his chest, pressing against his heart. His sleeve sank down his forearm, revealing the silver cuff in full glory. His gaze caught mine, cutting and cold. “Because I’m the last of my line. And if I die, Brimstone Industries dies with me.”

I searched his face for more answers. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes, well.” He smirked. “You’re not exactly very smart. We’ve already established this.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You can go now.”

He snickered as he stood. Whisper raised his head and yawned.

Taking a step away from the bed, Lucien muttered, “So...you’re not trying to seduce me?”

I scowled. “Really? This is getting old—”

“And you’re not here to kill me.”

“For the hundredth time, no.”

He tipped his head, the long fall of his hair slipping against his collar. “Fine.”

“Fine what?”

Snapping his fingers, he waited until his panther leapt from the bed to join him. “From now on, you’ll serve me.”

I blinked. “I’ll what?”

“I believe you. You’re not like the others.” He turned toward the door, his fingers trailing over Whisper’s glossy black pelt as the cat prowled beside him. “Come to the palace tomorrow morning. That isn’t a request.”

My temper tried to rise. “You could say please.”

“I could.” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes cold and gorgeous. “But I won’t. See you tomorrow, little liar. Don’t be late.”