Page 87 of Falcon's Prey

The hand that was on my mouth was the one that had a tattoo so meticulously done. It looked like his bones were over the flesh. The other one had a cracked crown, and on his knuckles, he had tattooed the wordmadwith an anarchy symbol.

As he dragged me away, I realized two things.

The first thing was that I was afraid. I had nothing to my name, no means to survive, and I’d rather be dead than run back to my castle. Not when Silas was currently king. Now I knew that since the moment Ren had taken me, I wasn’t afraid, not really. A part of me didn’t worry about what happened next—he was there, and he would make everything else fade, and he had.

The second was that I was in pain. The thought of never seeing Ren again made me feel ill. All my life, things had been ripped away from me, without a chance to say goodbye, and now it was happening with him.

No one seemed to care as I got dragged away. The people from the game knew I was being “collected,” and everyone down on the lower level was too wrapped up in their own fucked-up states to care.

That was the problem with the world nowadays. No one gave a shit unless it affected them somehow. I was not their problem, so they pretended not to see me.

When we got off the boat, Gideon dragged me into a dark corner. He slammed me to the wall, and with his hand on my mouth, he held me there. With his other hand, he pointed at me.

I wasn’t going to break. It had become my personal mantra over the past year.

“Listen, sweetheart,” he said with that accent of his. “Things can be easy, but if you make this hard, you will regret it.”

When I didn’t answer, he took his hand from my mouth. I stared into his whiskey eyes, not knowing what he wanted from me. I knew lust made men fall to their knees like it was a sport, and there was none of that in his gaze.

“Let me go.”

He smiled, making his face morph from lethal to docile in a second. Something was not right with him.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I need Falcon, and the only way he will cooper—”

I stopped listening to him and moved to try to get away. I would not be a pawn in his game. Someone always wanted something from me, and I was tired of it. My body shook, trying to get away from his hold, when he grabbed me by the throat, slamming back. I was panting, and he didn’t look fazed.

“You…” I managed to get out. “Want…” My throat was on fire; it was like drinking cheap vodka straight from the bottle. “The…reward.”

It was hard to cough as he just held me and cocked his head to the side.

“Money, I have in spades.”

His answer did nothing to make me feel better. If anything, he was more dangerous. Which meant he wasn’t after me—he was after Ren. I wanted to protect him, which was illogical because I couldn’t even defend myself.

I thrashed again, and this time I really pissed Gideon off.

“Hard way it is,” he stated.

He then removed his arm, and as I took my first full breath, feeling the burn in my lungs, I felt a cold blade at my throat. With Ren, I was never afraid. If anything, I wanted to push him to see how far he would take things. Now here with Gideon, I was scared.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t, but if you become a pain in my arse, I will.”

“Then hurt me.” I seethed as I pressed my neck closer to his blade. I stayed silent as I felt the edge penetrate my skin.

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Gideon said with amusement.

He removed the blade, and then his hand came to my chin, forcing me to look up. My scalp dug into the concrete behind me, and my hair was pulled, causing pain from all directions.

Warm wet heat glided across my throat, licking away the blood spilled. My heart sped up and not from repulsion. When Gideon was done, he yanked my head back down.

Once again, he regarded me with a look. He reached for my hair, feeling it between the tips of his fingers. I could have sworn he said “petals,” but I wasn’t sure.

“You remind me of someone.”

I stayed quiet. His interest was starting to freak me out.

“And now I know Falcon will be fucking pissed at me.”

---