Page 46 of Deadmen's Captive

"Except maybe this time we did," Tristan said, and I could hear the quiet fear threading through his words. "And we-"

"Stop." I cut him off, my words slicing through the air. "Nate's being played. We're being played." I couldn't entertain the possibility that Nate was right. I wouldn't. The contract was meticulous, drafted by the best lawyers in the country, and she had signed it. That was all I needed to know.

Nate glared up at me. "She's not like that. She's genuine. I know it. And what we've done to her..." He couldn’t finish the sentence, the weight of the implication crushing the breath from him. I wouldn't even entertain the idea. It was her, all her and I'd had enough.

"Enough!" I banged my fist on the desk. The sound reverberated through the room like a gunshot. "We vetted her. She was chosen. She agreed. This innocence act doesn't wash with me, and I'm surprised at you, Nate. One taste of her pussy and she has you completely whipped. Get a grip. You want the club to see you on your knees because some little girl turned the waterworks on?”

I sat down and leaned back, the leather chair groaning under my weight. My fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on the mahogany desk as I glared at Nate. I had no idea what the fuck was going on and I didn't like it. I had everything under control, and now it felt like that control was slipping away and I didn't like it one bit. That girl had signed the contract, signed her life away for a year. It was binding, and I was not about to let a few tears and regrets ruin everything.

Tristan sat down and sighed. "We should talk to her. All of us. Hear what she has to say, and make a decision then."

"What decision?'' I asked. "There is no decision. She applied, she signed, she bound herself to us for a year. If she backs out, I will fucking ruin her life. It wouldn't surprise me if this is a little revenge plot to try and get back at our families for what they did to her parents. Either that or she is simply too weak. I knew we should never have chosen her. But if Paige thinks she can get away with it, she'll get one hell of a shock, because no one fucks around with us."

Tristan shook his head. "We don't know everything. Maybe there's more to it. She never once mentioned the club to me, never brought it up. I don't like this, Bast."

I sighed. "Fine. I'll talk to her, and then I'll make my mind up. I am the Hades after all. I was the one who did all her background checks, and went through that application with a fine tooth comb. If I missed something, she can point it out to me."

"What if she's right?" asked Nate. "What if the application is fake?"

Tristan stared at him. "Who would fake a Persephone application? And how would they know all those things about her?"

I poured another brandy, and topped up the guys’ glasses as well. "I think you're falling for the sweet little innocent act, but I'll talk to her and look into her claims. I can't think of anybody who could fake those kinds of details, even down to her sexual experience and fantasies. Everything's there. And the signature matches her application forms for the university, if someone's faked it, they’ve done an amazing job, but the more pressing question is, why?"

"To set her up? To fuck with her?" suggested Tristan. "But I can't think there could be anyone who would hate her that much, she's just so nice."

"Well, if someone has set her up, then I intend to find out who and we'll deal with them then. But if I'm right, and she's fucking with Nate's head, then its her I'll be dealing with, and I will not be as understanding as the two of you. She will certainly regret trying. Now, if you'll excuse me, I will go and have words with our little Persephone."

Chapter Twenty One

PAIGE

Steam curled around me, the heat from the bath seeping into my pores, but doing nothing to thaw the chill of fear that had settled deep in my bones. I sank deeper into the water, trying to wash away the surreal horror of the induction ceremony. The petals floating atop the surface seemed an absurd contrast to the darkness that clung to every thought. I closed my eyes, and images filled my mind — dancing with Tristan and then… Hades… at the ball, waking up here and being cuffed to the wall and then… I shoved those thoughts away, my heart already starting to pound harder at the memories, and not for the reason it should be pounding. I should be more afraid, I told myself. They forced me, they assaulted me… and yet Nate had insisted they thought I had consented. He’d seemed pretty sure too.

"Consented," I whispered to the empty room, tasting the word on my lips as if it were some bitter pill. How could anyone believe I would agree to such degradation? They’d exposed me to the whole room, and done those things to me - why on earth would have I agreed to that?

Because it felt amazing, a thought whispered into my mind. No. I pushed it away. I was not some easy girl they could seduce. I had self respect and discipline and even if I didn’t, that was still way way out of line. No one should ever feel ok about being assaulted in front of a room full of men. More than ok. A shiver ran down my spine, not from the cooling water, but from the memory of mouths sucking on my nipples, of tongues lapping at my pussy, of fingers pushing inside me, and my face began to burn. I hadn’t chosen it, any of it, but if I had agreed, had signed this contract Nate seemed convinced I knew about, what then? I didn't even want to contemplate what that would make me. I closed my eyes, the memory vivid and unrelenting. Bound, exposed, the cold wall at my back a stark contrast to the heat that had flooded my veins. Fear had gripped me, yes, but beneath it—something else. Something darker.

My breath hitched, recalling their hands, their eyes upon me. A shiver ran down my spine, not from chill but from the shameful realisation that there had been pleasure amidst the panic.

"God," I gasped, sinking deeper into the bath, wishing the water could cleanse more than just my skin. The fear had been real, but so was the arousal—unexpected, undeniable. I slid down under the water, closing my eyes and holding my breath, wanting the heat of my body to dissipate into the water around me. I’m disgusting, I thought. Disgusting little slut, enjoying being degraded like that. The thought even danced across my mind in my mother’s voice. She’d been insistent on protecting my innocence from the start. She’d ranted and raved about saving my purity for my husband, and although I knew she was way over the top about it, I still couldn’t shake that sickening shameful feeling that rose up any time I felt any kind of sexual desire. I shrank back into the past, feeling the walls of my childhood room closing in.

The idea that a part of me craved the exposure, the vulnerability—it was mortifying. Could I be so starved for sensation, for rebellion against the pristine image I was forced into, that I'd find excitement in such darkness? No, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t like that.

I started to scrub at my skin, using the flannel and the liquid soap I found on the side, as if I could scrub away the stain on my soul. A delicious scent floated up and I glanced at the bottle. Dark cassis and pomegranate. It looked expensive, but I knew the guys could definitely afford it, so I lathered up, and even used it to wash my hair. I knew I probably didn’t have much time till Nate got back and I wanted to be dressed by then, regardless of the fact he’d already seen me naked. I tried scrubbing harder, as if the touch of those men could be unetched from my body, but no amount of soap could purify the taint of arousal that clung to me like a shadow.

I climbed out of the tub and wrapped a soft black towel around myself, drying off my skin, and using another smaller one to wrap around my hair. I headed back to the thankfully still empty bedroom, and rooted around in the dresser Nate had shown me. There seemed to be an interesting collection of lace lingerie, none of which I was going near, despite his reassurances that they were all brand new, but in the second drawer down I found a pair of black silk pyjamas. There seemed to be little else that would give anywhere near as much coverage, so I put them on, pausing for a moment to enjoy the luxurious feel of them against my skin. Whoever had done the shopping certainly had good taste, and a decent budget.

I sat down at the vanity, and finding a hairbrush in the top drawer, began to tease out the tangles in my damp hair, as my mind turned over the night’s events. I had called Nate a monster, and he’d seemed devastated by my words. Had they truly not known I was unwilling? And if they’d thought I wanted it, why drug me and kidnap me? One thing I knew for sure was that if there was an application and a contract with my signature on it, I wanted to see it. And if it was there, and someone had faked it, then what?

What they had done to me in that room, I could go to the police. There were witnesses after all, a whole room of them. But then, this was a society full of elite young men, all connected through their wealth and status. I might be innocent, but I wasn’t completely naive. It would be my word against theirs, and I would lose. Then again, if the three guys had genuinely believed I had consented, then it wasn’t really fair to blame them either. Calling them monsters when they truly believed I had sought out this twisted fantasy. I felt so confused, and utterly exhausted.

"Paige?" I looked up to see the leader of this macabre circus moving into the room.

His voice was a low rumble in the quiet room, and I stiffened, the brush pausing mid-stroke. Hades stood in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space, his eyes a study in unreadable darkness.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said, though his measured tone suggested otherwise.

"Then maybe try knocking next time," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.

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