Page 105 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

He looks me over again, shaking his head.

A flush rakes over me, sensing his pure disdain. “Not what you were expecting?” I ask when he's remained silent too long.

“My father will love it,” he says, taking my arm and leading me out of my room.

“We're seeing the Collector?” I ask, apprehension tightening my skin.

“He's requested a private dinner.”

“You'll be dining with us too, right?” I ask, the soft slippers I'm wearing whispering against the marble floor as he leads me through the palace. He stops just outside what I can assume is a dining hall, the partially cracked doors illuminating flickering lights hanging from chandeliers, elaborately painted marble floors, and rows of empty tables.

Gray turns to me, looking at me curiously. “If I didn't know any better, pet, it sounds like youwantme there.”

I swallow hard, internally denying the claim. It's easier to deal with the monster I know, than the one I haven't seen in weeks.

“I’ll be with you,” he says before I can respond, ushering me through the doors.

The Collector sits at a table on another raised dais, one that overlooks all the empty tables below. I imagine he uses this room to dine with his court, looking down at them from his position of power, but Gray doesn't seat me at one of the lower tables. He walks me up the dais and places me directly across from the Collector before taking the seat to my right.

The table is elaborately decorated with crystal decanters and silver trays piled high with food. All sorts of wild game and root vegetables and rice and breads and cheeses. The feast is enough to feed at least a dozen people, if not more, and yet there are only three of us.

I look at the empty chair on his left, wondering if his Treasure will be joining us. I’ve spent most of my time here locked in my room—Gray’sroom—but even in the rare outings that I've been allowed, I have still not seen even a hint of her anywhere.

“Well, well,” he says, crushing a tomato between his teeth. “Look at your pretty pet, Gray,” he says, plucking another vegetable off of his tray and plopping it into his mouth. “You were right,” he continues. “She cleans up exceptionally well.”

I do my best not to squirm under his obvious inspection, his eyes lingering on the cleavage just barely showing in the elegant gown. I'm suddenly thankful that we're seated, that the table hides the rest of me. I don't like being under his gaze. I don't like being this near to him, especially when I haven't figured out how I'm going to kill him while still keeping Zev and Jagger alive.

Gray says nothing, and I take mental note of it.

“She will present nicely at the banquet tomorrow.”

That garners Gray's attention. He shifts in his chair, focusing harder on his father. “You want her at the banquet?”

“Why shouldn't I?” the Collector asks, taking another bite. “Look at her,” he says, motioning to me with his goblet in his hand. “She hasn't even moved to touch the food before her. You've obviously broken her well.”

Ihadn'ttouched the food on my plate because I wanted to play the role of the perfect pet, only moving or speaking when allowed.

“Has it been fun?” he asks Gray as if I'm not sitting right beside him. “You've only given me the barest of details.”

Gray looks at me, something unreadable in his eyes before looking back at his father. He gives him a smirk that looks more punishing than amused. “She's everything I ever dreamed she would be,” he says, and I do my best to bury the shock that threatens to show on my face.

He slides a hand along the bare skin on my back, and it takes everything in my power to not react to the touch. It's warm and elicits chills when my stomachshouldbe churning. I should be smacking his hand away. “She fought me in the beginning,” he continues. “But now...” He sucks in an audible breath. “I have her completely under my control.”

My heart is racing, my mind spinning with the lies he spews to his father. And why? To try and bait me into a reaction that will likely get me killed? Or to test his hold over me, knowing he has Zev and Jagger under his control?

The Collector laughs, a sickening sound that makes my hands ball into fists where they rest in my lap. My power roams beneath my skin, begging to strike, but the damn silver bracelets are weakening my powers so much. I’ve been working on breaking these decorative chains since I awoke with them on, but it’s like walking up a steep mountain.

“How is it,” the Collector asks. “Being bitten?”

Gray’s touch on my back pauses a moment, and he shifts in his chair to look at me, his thigh brushing against mine beneath the table.

Everything in my body narrows to his touch, an ache resonating deep in my body.

Why?

Whydo I have this reaction to him?

It's been a week since I fed from my Linked…that has to be it.

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