It’s not the first time I’ve come close to death, but there’s something about dying in front of the men you’ve come to care for that makes the idea of taking your final breaths a lot more fucking terrifying.
Charles’s possessive hold on my waist is the only thing holding me up as he shoves me into the backseat of the SUV that drove us here, and I don’t bother fighting him. All the fight drained out of me the second that knife sliced into my neck, with the threat of dying hanging less than an inch away.
I huddle in the corner against the door, my body curling in on itself instinctively as I try desperately to hold the tears at bay.
I will not cry in front of Charles.
I refuse to.
The engine humming is the only sound as we move through the city, but I don’t take note of where we are or the landmarks we pass. In truth, I don’t care. Not right now. The fight and the flight have left my body, and all that remains is the shell of the queen I was trained to be.
But just for tonight.
Tomorrow, I’ll straighten my crown and find a way out of this marriage.
I refuse to go down without a fight.
By the time I’m guided back into the penthouse, I’m almost completely numb.
The emotions that threaten to boil over are too much for me to handle, and all I want right now is a shower. Somewhere I can allow myself to fall apart with no consequences.
But when I move toward the stairs with the intention of taking myself to my bedroom, a hand grips my wrist roughly and tugs me back against their body.
“Where do you think you’re going, Pet?” Charles breathes against my ear, and I fight against the need to shiver with disgust.
“To bed,” I say, staring straight ahead as I allow him to position my body against his with my back to his front, the telltale sign of his erection pressing into my lower back.
“Not so fast, Camilla. You’re the reason the celebration was cut short, so you’re going to finish entertaining me.”
His words wash over me, and I press my eyes closed to stop the tears from falling. I’m so fucking tired. So tired of being strong. So tired of being scared. So tired of having the people I care about let me down.
I swallow heavily and release a breath. “I need to tend to my neck before it gets infected.”
“Then you better entertain me quickly then, huh?” He shoves me forward, and I can’t get my balance on these heels. I fall to the cold tiles and let out a yelp when my hands and knees catch my fall, and pain rockets through my limbs.
Before I can push myself up, he grips my hair and drags me to my feet. Agony radiates through my scalp, but I swallow my cry. The more pain I show him, the more he’ll inflict. A lesson I learned early on from my father.
“Dance,” he murmurs against my ear as he tugs my ass against his hardening length.
Bile crawls up the back of my throat, but I close my eyes and sway my hips from side to side. It’s better I do what he asks, because if I argue, it wouldn’t take much for him to escalate things, not when I’m wearing a barely there dress and a scrap of lace he could easily tear from my body.
He grunts as his hands fall to my hips, and he guides my movements.
My stomach churns with every pass over him, but I allow my mind to wander, to imagine it’s one of my men guiding my movements. I imagine Bishop holding me against him while Kovu kneels before me. The two of them shared me so well the first time, I wonder what they could do now that they can cross more lines.
I imagine Kaos sitting in the corner, his hand squeezing his hard length through his sweatpants, his eyes focused on every move the others make.
And then Crew, his mismatched gaze burning my skin as he observes quietly, waiting his turn to do anything he wants to me.
I’m brought back to reality when the elevator dings behind me, my body seizing up at the idea of someone else seeing me like this, but Charles doesn’t pause.
“You’re lucky I’m a man of my word, Pet,” he muses, not bothering to check who just walked into the apartment. “Part of the contract I had with your father was that I wouldn’t touch you until our wedding night. Such a traditional man with some things, your dear old dad.” Hearing him talk about my father, the man who raised me the best he could, who trained me to survive this world and the men who were bound to see me as weak, makes me want to use all that training to snap his neck here and now, but I can’t do that. Not without starting a war.
“You’re so quick to dismiss the contract, to say it was void the moment he took his last breath.” He yanks my hips back harder against him as he grinds into me in harsh movements. His fingers dig into my hips so tight I’m certain I’ll be covered in bruises when I wake up this morning. “But if I believed it was void, I’d already be balls deep in your tight virgin cunt.”
My breath catches in my throat at his words, and I’m glad he can’t see my face. Can’t see the truth in my features. Can’t see that I’m no longer untouched and that I spent a perfect morning with Bishop. Just the thought of him makes my stomach churn uncomfortably. I miss him so fucking much. I miss them all, even if they did play a part in getting me here.
“This ass is so fucking perfect, Pet,” Charles groans against the shell of my ear, and I steel myself, knowing exactly what’s coming. Or who, I suppose. “I can’t wait to see it covered in welts from my whip. I hope you like pain, because I’m going to fucking love covering you in my marks.”