Page 46 of Slay Me

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Have you ever been with Apollo?”

I arch a brow and glare at him. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”

He leans forward. “It is absolutely my business because no one on this entire fucking planet is allowed to touch you, Liv. Not while you’re in my possession.”

The ownership his words grant him stokes the fire burning in my soul. Flames that fuel my anger at this captivity. “Until my contract runs out, right,Dante?”

His gaze holds mine, and the energy between us shifts, charging with something that cannot be considered passion but is far from hatred. “Of course,” he replies then stands. “Untie me.” When the dragon turns his back to me, I get up and cross the room.

Hands bound behind his back, he’s completely at my mercy this way. Unless, of course, he shifts and brings the entire building down around us. “What would happen if I touched your skin?”

“Not something you want to find out,” he replies.

The temptation to test him is strong, but I’m careful not to as I untie the scarf binding him. If his skin is, in fact, sensitive, the last thing I want to do is hurt him. Surprising given all I’ve wanted was to escape this place. Now, my needs have vastly changed.

“You do realize that Apollo will need to touch me during our performances.”

Slowly, Dante turns to face me. I look up at his dark expression, wondering why I never saw the man everyone else fears. Is it truly because I’ve seen evil and this is not it? Or because I no longer fear the monsters that lurk inside of powerful men? “Only during your performances,” he says softly,’ “Outside of that ring, he’d better keep his hands to himself, or I’ll cut them off.”

I swallow hard, hating the way his demanding arrogance turns me on.

A slow smile spreads over Dante’s face. “You’d better hold onto that until tomorrow, pet. No coming without me present.”

“Then the same should go for you,” I retort.

Dante leans in, and I freeze. He’s close enough I can smell his aftershave and feel the warmth of his breath as it fans my face. “You want to see me come?” he asks.

Swallowing hard, I look up to meet his gaze. “Seems only fair.”

Dante chuckles. “I want you on your knees when I do. So I can pretend it’s that smartass mouth I’m fucking.”

“I want to have breakfast with my friends tomorrow.”

He stiffens but nods. “Fine. But Killian will bring your plate to you.” Then, he moves around me and out into the hall.

It’s not until my door fully closes behind him that I’m able to take a full breath. I fall back onto my mattress and breathe in his lingering scent. Fuck me, things just got infinitely more complicated.

I’ve been planning to escape. To buy time until I can slip out. But now? That seems even more a fairytale than me riding off into the sunset on a dragon. Dante is going to be watching my every move. An idea that shouldn’t be as seductive as it is given that it’s a massive hindrance in my desperate attempt at gaining my freedom.

And what’s worse is that I don’t even know if that freedom is something I want anymore. Not when Dante just gave me more power than I’ve ever had in my life.

* * *

“Being served now?”Fiona jokes as Killian sets a plate on the table, and I take my seat beside her. She’s wearing her usual workout clothes: shorts and a crop top that bares her toned abs. White hair pulled up out of her face, she regards me with an ice-blue gaze chock full of concern.

“Apparently,” I reply. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, gorgeous.” The lion shifter winks then moves across the room to take his post by the door.

“How you feeling, babe?” Apollo brushes a strand of my hair behind my shoulder. “You okay now? I can rub your back.”

“No. Thanks.” Out of concern for both his life—and mine—I scoot away from him and start eating the plate full of pancakes in front of me. It’s a rare treat here, given that most of our meals come from a can, but every Saturday, the cook treats us.

Buttermilk pancakes and maple syrup. Is there really anything better?

At the table beside ours, I watch the newest addition—Lex—poke at the food on his plate. It’s impossible to not feel bad for him. As with most of us, I doubt he knew what he was getting into when he signed that contract.

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