Page 33 of Heir of the Beast

His face is mere inches from mine. “Absolutely. But you should already know that from being a slave,” he murmurs back, and shifts his weight, hands tightening on my thighs.

I bite my lip as he leans closer. I feel his breath on my jawline. “Maybe I was not a slave beforehand.”

Apollo laughs. “I think that’s a safe bet.”

“You’re so sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I must ease into this lost princess thing. It’s time to stop acting like a slave and find some courage.

“Then help me find out who I am,” I offer and force a grin, making Apollo raise a brow. “And you should let go of me. Seeing how we both know what I’m not.”

I jerk my legs and kick him hard in the stomach.

That shocks him, but I can see something in his black gaze as a dark grin spreads over his lips. There is excitement in his eyes, or possibly something equally as alarming.

My heart pounds as he grabs my thighs again, his hands firm.

“Try that again, and I will have you restrained,” he whispers and leans into me, his mouth right next to my ear. A part of me cannot comprehend that this has turned sexual, the tension crackling.

I feel him grab my hair and pull it back, making my head fall back and exposing my neck. A thrill shoots through me as I feel him pull my hair harder.

His breath is hot, and the slight feel of his lips on my skin unleashes an army of butterflies to take flight.

“I would watch yourself, Angel, because I have the power to make your life a living hell.”

He lifts back from me and walks to the door without a second glance. I’m left here, breathing hard, and a smile spreads over my face.

Mort deserves a medal for this one.

I still have a silly smile on my face as the medical help arrives.

Game changer.

Chapter 8

I’m having the greatest dream, featuring a particular alpha male.

~Cough.~

It is delicious while it lasts, but I don’t even get to see Dream-Apollo bare his chest! He is in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt when I’m ripped out of the dream.

I wake to guards bursting into our small bed chamber.

I scream as they grab Mort and me, dragging us out of our beds like fugitives. Exclamation marks fire off in my head, and complete confusion overwhelms me.

It isn’t until we are taken to a dark and spine-chilling room that we are chained to the wall.

“What is happening?!” I yell, eyes welling up with tears.

They hurt me as they lock chains around our ankles, jerking us around like ragdolls. Mort hisses at them, and then suddenly, the guards laugh, leaving without a single motive as to why they did this to us.

This is bad. It smells like urine, and the ground is cold and wet. I glance at Mort, breathing hard.

“What happened?!” I yell, and look around the obvious dungeon. There are bars on the tiny window and there is a bowl sitting in the corner, probably a chamber pot.

Disgusting.

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