Page 32 of Heir of the Beast

I scream again as I suddenly feel myself being lifted and my whole body being thrown off-kilter. Panic rises in my chest as I realize I’m being carried like a sack of potatoes!

I hear a loud male voice yelling something, causing me to tense.

My hair is tangled around my head, preventing me from seeing straight, but I know that voice. My heart leaps to life, and fright sets in.

Seconds later, I’m dumped on something hard, and it’s not until I can get the hair out of my face that my world comes into focus.

Apollo’s face is right in front of mine, and his dark eyes widen when we make contact. The impact of his stare feels like someone took a bat to my head.

I slowly glance around to see that he carried me into the back entrance of the kitchen. I’m sitting on a table, Apollo’s face in line with my chest.

“You,” he accuses. He glances past me at all the kitchen staff, who are frozen in shock by the incident. “Everyone leave, now. Tell someone to fetch the healer.”

Then Apollo leaves!

He leaves me sitting here on the table, and I hear voices talking outside the door. I don’t think my pulse has slowed down even a hint from ramming speed. What am I to do?

My cheeks stain red in embarrassment. I wince, and I try to move off the table right when Apollo returns.

He points at me. “Don’t move.”

I freeze.

He comes to stand right in front of me for several seconds, and then his arms brace on either side of me.

Oh. My. Goodness. He. Is. ~Close.~

I swallow and try to breathe. “Thanks for saving me,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.

His dark gaze glitters as the light catches his eyes. He says nothing as his stare travels down my neck and lowers to my ripped gown. “You’re hurt.”

“Not bad,” I get out, still scared to move.

Apollo’s hands move to my torn dress and yank it open, making me gasp.

My thighs are exposed, and my ugly nylons are ripped. I have a gash on the side of my leg, but I am too focused on my exposed thighs.

I take steady breaths as I watch Apollo stare down at me, his chest taking a deep breath.

His hand feathers across my knee, then higher to my exposed thigh, causing an army of butterflies to take flight in the pit of my stomach.

“Your skin is soft, perfect,” he says, almost to himself.

Thank you, Fairy Godmother Inc, for that one. I’m very grateful for that at this moment, because my legs do look killer.

He raises his black gaze, and a shiver runs down my spine. “Amnesia, you say? I had my people investigate your situation further, and I can’t find anything. Why is that?”

I shrug and glance away, not being able to hold his stare. “That’s the thing with amnesia. You can’t remember.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmurs, and nods. He looks back down to my legs, and I can see his jaw flex. Then he grabs both of my thighs, making me yelp.

I’m helpless as he spreads my legs and steps in between them, bringing us very close. I can’t breathe. I feel his heat. I can smell the intoxicating scent of him, and it makes me dizzy.

The position is scandalous, I would assume, for this time period. Right?!

But I don’t move. I look up at Apollo and narrow my eyes. “You think you can manhandle me because I am a slave?”

~Atta girl.~

---