Page 113 of Filthy Royal

She was clearly exhausted, her dress shredded, her hair a wild tumble, the gold and red streaked with dirt. A far cry from the perfectly put-together golden goddess in that luxury box. Thanks to him.

It should have made him feel vindicated.

It didn’t.

Claws receding, he crept closer. Need warred with his last shreds of decency. Anger with the protectiveness he couldn’t obliterate no matter how hard he tried.

Then she cried out again, and his chest went tight.

It appeared she was having a bad dream, her breathing rapid, and her body trembling.

Or perhaps she was cold.

Before he could think too much about it, he hustled back to the stack of supplies in the tunnel outside and returned just as fast.

Lifting her as high as the chains would allow, he tucked one hide beneath her. She was so exhausted that she didn’t even stir. After setting her down, he broke open another cleaning tablet and rubbed it on her hands. Throat tight, he watched as the cleaning foam crept up her skin, beneath the taming chain, and over what remained of her gown. When that was done, and the dirt was gone, he covered her with a second hide.

Then he forced his hands to lift away and walked fast to the door before he could do something even stupider.

Like pulling her into his lap and cradling her while she slept.

Instead, he told himself he’d use the break to get his head straight, then get down to business.

Because Zaya and his family were counting on him.

And he’d let himself be a fool for this female once before. He’d not allow it to happen again.

11

SCARLETT

The heavy fall of footsteps woke Scarlett.

It took her a moment to orient herself. She lay underneath something soft, but her body was sore and not in the usual way. Instead, she was throbbing and achy.

She moved to press a hand between her thighs and drew up short, the rattle of chains bringing her fully awake.

Right.She was Damien’s prisoner. And, somehow, despite—or maybe because of—everything that had happened, she’d fallen asleep.

Except now, her respite was over, her captor once more prowling toward her, a determined gleam in his eye.

Stifling a moan, she pushed up from the dirty floor as far as the chains at her wrists allowed and then froze.

What was this?

She stared down at the soft hide beneath her and the other one that had just slipped from her shoulders, a curious tug activating in the center of her chest.

Then, to make matters even more confusing, she noted that she felt almost clean; the worst of the dirt steaks were gone from her skin, and the faint scent of sanitizer lingered in the air.

She refocused on the male striding her way, trying to reconcile what he’d done with the hard expression on his face. She couldn’t.

His unpredictability only made her more wary.

“You ready to talk?” Apparently, there’d be no pleasantries or warm-up.

“No.”

The taming chain heated immediately. “I hoped you’d use the break to come to your senses.”

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