Page 175 of A Touch of Chaos

He studied her. It wasn’t the name-calling that angered him but the worry over her sister.

“You should be far more concerned about what I have planned for you,” he said.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” she asked.

“You will be,” he said. “Until then, remember that you are afraid of what I can do to your sister.”

He pressed his mouth to hers, his fingers digging so hard into her skin, he felt as though he were holding her skull, but then her teeth sank into his lip, and he pushed her away, her chair tilting back until she crashed to the floor.

“You keep fighting like you think it will deter me,” he said, standing over her. “But really, it just makes me want to fuck you.”

He bent and cut the ties that held her to the chair. Her arms and legs were still bound, but she managed to resist, thrashing about. Finally, he managed to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to his bed.

“No, please,” she said, her voice rising with hysteria. The sound made him want to groan, his cock throbbing with pleasure.

“And now she begs,” he said as he straddled her, forcing her hands over her head, hooking her bindings to an anchor in the wall.

“Don’t,” she breathed. “Don’t.”

He paused as she begged, his face inches from hers.

“You could have had a day to adjust,” he said. “But you chose this.”

His words made her fight harder. She jerked beneath him, trying to throw him off, but her efforts were useless. He shifted down until he came to her legs, keeping them bound until he had one secured and then restrained the other.

With her secured and spread before him, he cut away her clothes, and while she cried beneath him, he devoured her body.

When Theseus left Ariadne an hour later, he discovered his son was still crying. The sound had a visceral effect on his body, both because of its keen pitch but also because his wife had failed to subdue him.

All the tension he had managed to release on Ariadne suddenly came back. In a rush of anger, he made his way to Phaedra’s quarters, which were down the hall from his own.

“Phaedra!” he shouted. “Shut him up. Do you hear me? Shut him up!”

When he reached the door, he found it was locked.

“Unlock the fucking door!”

He could feel his face burn as he yelled, and still his son cried.

“You bitch,” he said as he stepped back, kicking in the door—and froze.

He had expected to find Phaedra attempting to console Acamas. Instead, he found her sitting slumped on the floor at the end of her four-poster bed, a sheet wrapped tightly around her neck.

She was dead.

CHAPTER XXXIII

DIONYSUS

Dionysus woke to a burn in his shoulder. He groaned, shifting to relieve the pain, and opened his eyes to see bright blue sky overhead. For a brief moment, he struggled to remember where he was, but the sound of a voice—though unfamiliar—reminded him.

“His highness awakes!” A rugged face appeared over him as he was hauled into a sitting position.

He was on a ship, his hands tied behind his back and his feet bound. Several strangers stared back at him, but they all had one thing in common—a tattoo of a dolphin on their forearm, branding them as Tyrrhenian pirates.

The pirate behind him grabbed a handful of his hair. “His head will fetch a pretty price!” he said. “Look! He wears gold in his braids!”

“There’s nothing pretty about it,” said another pirate.

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