Page 74 of You're Not My King!

I was getting the hell out of here.

Thankfully, I managed to sneak-eat the dried meat Tanner had given me before being escorted back to the cave and chained to the throne. I would have had to go the night with an empty stomach, otherwise. It was almost funny how someone so intent on using me as bait clearly had no interest in keeping me alive that long.

Speaking of, the mood he returned in would probably lower my chances of survival more than starvation would. Whatever he had left camp to do earlier obviously hadn’t gone in his favor and was now playing on his mind. Either that, or actually having to act like a chief and do something other than lounge on his throne all day was hard on his delicate sensibilities.

I snorted to myself, but he caught the sound, his ears flaring out. “What is funny?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

He studied me, eyes narrowed, suspicion clear on his haggard face. “I do not appreciate being lied to.”

“And I don’t appreciate being tied up like an animal, yet here we both are.”

Sucking his fangs, he obviously decided I wasn’t worth the effort, turning instead to unbuckle his harness before tossing it aside and stretching out his leg. There was an unusually long beat of silence, and I watched his every move, though there wasn’t much to be excited about. He washed his face in the basin of water at one end of the cave, then paced to the other, clearly stewing in whatever internal dilemma he was facing.

I wasn’t going to ask, and it didn’t seem like he was going to tell me, so I propped myself against the side of the throne and waited. For what, I didn’t have a clue, but too soon, a shout echoed from the entrance, and Dacks-ur glanced at me, smugness radiating from his expression as he barked something back in Ly’zrd.

Cesare was marched in seconds later, and I felt the color drain from my face.

“You fucking bastard,” I called out without thinking, baring my teeth in a shit imitation of a snarl.

He had the gall to laugh, taking full advantage of Cesare’s meekness to shove him onto the bed. “That is no way to speak to your elder.”

“You’re not my anything.” I scoffed. “Just a stain that needs removing.”

“Careful.” He leveled me with an icy warning stare. “I have been tolerant of your impudence. Do not test me.”

I could not stop.

“Why him, anyway?” I jeered. “Can’t get any of your own kind to fuck you, huh?”

“Last warning.” His fingers flexed at his sides, chest rising and falling a little faster. “Hold your tongue.”

“Oh, touched a sore spot, have I?” I pushed out my bottom lip exaggeratedly. “Does no one want you? Is that why you’re such a pitiful dickbag?”

This time, I expected it when he strode forward, palm connecting to my face with a resounding slap. Instead of cowering, it enraged me, adding fuel to an already blazing fire. I sneered up at him, imagining all the ways I would fucking love to erase his pathetic life.

Making him choke on his own dick was the fan favorite.

I was sure Cesare would appreciate that approach.

“Do not look at me like that,” Dacks-ur teased, pinching my throbbing cheek. “If you did not disobey, I would not have to punish you. You are lucky I am fond of your smart mouth, or it could be worse for you.”

I hated to think what he dubbed worse, but I could definitely guess.

He straightened, limping over to the pile of furs, trailing his knuckles down the side of Cesare’s face. “You know, I may even keep you for myself, mate you, once Vo’ak is slain.”

With all the shit he’d spouted to me, I didn’t expect to be seeing red from the simple mention of my mate’s death. I was going to wait, was going to examine all my options and bide my time, but I was done. Barely twenty-four hours and this asshole had already exhausted every last drop of my patience—not that I’d had much to begin with. I was sick of being beaten up and treated like shit. I had endured it all once before, but fuck doing that again, and I wasn’t about to let Cesare get so far into his despair that he couldn’t be rescued from it. He lay there on that bed as if surrendering to his fate, and that was not happening tonight. We were getting out of here.

I was going back to my fucking mate.

“Hey, dickhead,” I goaded, watching with great satisfaction as the bastard’s shoulders stiffened. I remembered Tanner mentioning that the dude’s temper was unpredictable, and I was counting on it. “I’ve been wondering… who was it that fucked up your leg?”

“Be. Quiet.”

Bingo. I was hitting the right nerve, now all it needed was some coaxing. “Did it happen before or after you became chief? My guess is after, ’cause I know from experience how these guys are about defects. Doubt they’d vote in an old dude with a limp. Unless you were the only choice.”

He straightened up, dangerously slowly, from where he’d been hovering over Cesare, seemingly abandoning his plans for him to turn to me instead, fangs bared and anger visible. “Do you have a death wish?”