Page 44 of Scarred
He swallows as he finishes buttoning up his trousers, running his hand through his disheveled hair.
“So thoughtful of you,” I continue.
The girl scoots farther back on the bed, presumably to put more distance between us. I walk toward her until I’m standing at the side of the small mattress, and I reach out, grasping her naked arm, pulling her from the spot before shoving her onto the wood floor.
She makes a screeching noise, and the sound of her fear sends adrenaline coursing through my veins. This seems to snap Edward out of whatever daze he was in, and he moves forward, grabbing the woman’s clothes and walking to stand next to me as he thrusts them at her.
I chuckle. “A bit late for modesty, don’t you think?”
Her cheeks heat, and I wave my hand in a placating motion through the air. “By all means, sweetheart. Get dressed.”
She pulls her garments closer to her chest, but she doesn’t make another move. Irritation vibrates through my bones. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
“Sheina, please,” Edward pleads. “Do as he says.”
“I don’t want him to see me,” she whispers at the ground.
“I tell you what. You take a few minutes, Sheina. Get yourself together.” Stepping in closer, I reach down, running my hand over her tousled hair. “And then come downstairs where we can figure out just what to do about this...situation.”
“She knows nothing,” Edward whispers.
Anger makes my tongue sharp. “She knows enough.”
He presses his lips together, and for the slightest moment, I think maybe he’ll fight for her. But he simply drops his head and nods.
“Ten minutes,” I say, turning to the door and heading to the staircase.
My shoulders tighten, my mind racing, warring between disbelief and disappointment. I’ve never once questioned Edward’s loyalty. But then again, he’s never given me reason to.
I don’t want to make an example out of him, but sometimes, these things are unavoidable.
The stairs creak as I storm down them, and when I make it to the bottom, I head straight across the room until I reach Belinda, who’s sitting on the lap of Earl, running her hand through his straggly beard and cackling in laughter.
They both straighten as I approach and she jumps up, dropping to the ground. “Sire,” she whispers.
“There’s a woman upstairs with Edward. Make sure they don’t leave.”
“Of course.” She reaches out, grasping my hand and kissing my rings, and a rush of satisfaction flows through my veins at her subservience.
Out of all my followers, she is undoubtedly the most loyal.
“If they try to run, kill her. And bring Edward to me.”
She straightens, her eyes maniacal as they gleam.
I make my way to the raised platform where a singular black velvet, high-back chair sits; a throne for me to watch over my people. It’s nothing close to the real thing—to the one Ideserve—but for the moment, it works.
My boots clunk against the wood as I plop down, spreading my legs wide and drumming my fingertips on the arm of the chair, gazing out over the room. Everyone is busy slurping up soup and bread I had Paul send from the castle, and the tabletops are piled high with fur-lined coats to prepare for the winter months. A gift for their loyalty.
A handful of minutes pass until I hear the heavy thud of footsteps. My eyes flicker to the corner of the room, past the long picnic-style tables, to where the edge of the bar meets the staircase. Edward and his new love step down, their heads close together as they make their way toward me, Belinda prodding at their backs.
I rest my chin on my knuckles, watching while they weave through the tables and benches until they reach the edge of the platform. The noise around us quiets as people take note of something happening, and it pleases me that I don’t have to call their attention.
“Kneel before greatness, girl,” Belinda hisses, shoving at the girl’s shoulders until she drops to her knees.
Edward cuts Belinda a strong glare, stepping forward until he’s placed himself between them.
I smirk at his obvious attachment and wait for him to follow suit.
