Page 13 of Ruled By Magic

He picked one from my plate. With expert fingers, he tapped and shelled the berry in a swift motion. He held it up to my eyeline. The fruit inside glistened an even more lurid shade of blue. It didn’t look edible. “Open up.”

I saw my mistake and heard the challenge, daring me to disobey. A brief glance down the table showed many pairs of eyes watching with interest.Shit.Were the pressmen still lurking, ready to snap this moment too?

Good behavior. For Hex. I opened my mouth. The Lord Commander pressed his fingers to my lips and held them there for much longer than necessary. Heat crept up my cheeks yet again at the suggestive pose. He slid the blue fruit inside. I bit, braced for disgust.

Flavor exploded, a mix of sweet and tangy. Odd at first, it spread across my tongue and grew more delicious with each second. A genuine smile slipped past my guarded expression.

“What do you think?” Curiosity tinged his voice. “You’ve really never tried one before?”

“I’ve never seen one before.”

His eyebrows flicked up in a moment of surprise before he schooled his features. So clueless, and typical of his class. He’d probably never set foot in one of the cheaper restaurants non-mages dined at.

The Lord Commander kept his hands to himself for the rest of the meal, content with insisting I try the various foods on my plate. An outside observer would appraise him as polite and solicitous. An ideal dinner companion. All fake. A pretty lie. I acted with calm decorum, though my brief reprieve drew to a close far too fast. We’d be alone soon, and his mask of civility would fall away, replaced by the predator I’d glimpsed earlier.

With plates cleared, several guests pulled pocket watches from their clothes, glanced at them, and signaled the staff to fetch their coats. The Lord Commander offered his hand and helped me to my feet. Anxiety churned in my stomach, disturbing the strange concoction of foods I’d eaten. If I threw up on his shoes, would he leave me alone?

He said his goodbyes, took my arm, and raised a brow. “Ready?”

Fear froze my tongue, but I managed a tight nod. The world faded to black, and everything lurched. This time more prepared, I kept my eyes screwed shut against the sickening swirl and landed better, keeping my feet with only a little aid from the Lord Commander. The apartment greeted me. My home, or my cell.

The Lord Commander released my arm and stepped back to study me. The weight of his gaze set blood pounding in my head, aftereffects of teleportation mixed with fear of what loomed. How would he do it? Order me to strip right here? Throw me to the floor and fuck me like an animal? Take me to his bedroom and play with me all night? My mouth dried as the images stacked up, not helped by the intensity of his stare.

“Go to bed.” The words fell cold and commanding from his lips. I blinked, unsure I’d taken the meaning correctly. Did he plan to let me escape this part of the deal? He took in my confusion and shook his head. “Your blood test hasn’t come back yet. I don’t take those sorts of risks.”

A brief reprieve. A little more time to adjust. I blew out a long breath. He stepped close, took my chin in his hand, and lifted it. He stared right into my eyes. His own, so dark they were almost black, captured me. His thumb brushed over my mark, and lightning zinged when he touched it. I gasped, which drew a smile from him.

“I enjoy seeing my mark on you. It lets the world see what you’ve become, something pretty for me to play with.” The demeaning words landed oddly in my brain. My conscious mind screamed in outrage, but something strange below the surface sent a low pulse of heat into my core. What the fuck?

He slid his hand down my neck in a slow, exploratory way, over the curve of my shoulder and down the slope of my breast. I stiffened. Shock ricocheted through me as he paused and teased my nipple with his thumb through the thin fabric of the dress. Only three men had touched me there, and their touches were tentative and shy. Awkward, accompanied by requests for reassurance that it was okay, that I didn’t mind.

The Lord Commander touched me as though he had every right to, as if my body belonged to him. No hesitation. No consideration of me at all. Just a man examining something new he’d acquired. Again, that strange duality overtook me. One part of me wanted to rip his hand away, scream curses at him, and run. Another part gave in to the pure physical sensation of it. My rock-hard nipple ached under the pressure from his thumb, pleasure that spiraled into my center.

A whimper slipped past my lips.

He dropped his arm and stepped back. His own face held a little more color than usual. He looked at his hand as if he’d forgotten himself, then brought his gaze to me.

“Good night, Livet. I’m looking forward to seeing more of you tomorrow.”

All cool composure once more. I took a backward step, my heart beating against my chest. I didn’t rise to his bait. “Good night, Lord Commander.”

He glanced toward my door and I caught his meaning. Dismissal. My feet screamed in pain as I stumbled to the bedroom, shut the door behind me, and threw myself into bed, still clothed. I kicked the shoes out and curled up in a ball, shaking. I’d slept little in the prison, and barely at all the previous night. This mattress was soft and luxurious, silken sheets and down pillows. A stark contrast to the prison mattresses, which were one step up from cardboard.

Where was Hex sleeping? Was she comfortable, at least? A rush of homesickness crashed over me. My friend was out of reach now, along with everyone else. Tears escaped and dampened the expensive pillowcase. Sleep rose in a velvet wave, wrapped around me, and drew me into its depths.

I woke, groggy from sleep, to loud knocking. Heavy curtains covered the windows, but a little sunlight seeped in. I sat up and battled to clear my head.

The Lord Commander’s voice rang through the door. “Get out here. Two minutes and I’m coming in.”

I shot out of bed. The wrinkled, twisted dress clung to me, even more wanton in the cold light of morning. I couldn’t face him in it. Not half asleep. The wardrobe yielded nothing good, only lacy lingerie. My dependency crashed down on me with renewed force. He could keep me trapped in the apartment without locks or bars, just by denying me anything to wear. I looked down at myself, took a deep breath, and straightened the dress. It would have to do.

He stood by the kitchen bench, link-up in hand, face creased into a frown as he tapped into it. Of course, he had a job. Work to do. A busy man. Things to occupy his time, besides tormenting me. He glanced up and his gaze skimmed my body. “My apologies. You’ll need suitable clothes for the daytime. I’ll have some sent up.”

Relief hit me, but suspicion followed right on its heels. Too nice. There would be a trap somewhere. “I have clothes, in storage. You don’t have to—”

“How would that look? My consort going about in ratty old jeans. No. Check your wardrobe shortly.”

“So, they’ll just appear there?”

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