Home > Torn (A Wicked Saga #2)(61)

Torn (A Wicked Saga #2)(61)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

“Do it,” the female shouted. “Or I will break her in two.”

“The prince will not be pleased to see her injured,” a male said.

I tried to lift my head but was stopped. Cool metal hit my throat, and a loud click thundered in my head. Panicked, I reached up and my fingers slipped over a metal band—a band connected to something. A chain. Holy shit—a chain.

“Like a dog. A breeding bitch,” the female fae said a second before pain exploded alongside my head, followed by intense, white light and nothing more.

~

Waking up happened differently this time. There was no quicksand or struggling to open my eyes. I was knocked out one second and then I was sitting up in a rush. I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the ache along my head. A white bandage circled my left forearm. I made it another three steps before I was pulled back.

My hands flew to the band around my neck. It was smooth with the exception of a small keyhole. Wide-eyed, I spun around. The length of the chain rested on the blue bedspread. It was thin and light when I gripped it.

Oh my God.

I pulled on the chain, seeing that it was connected to the upper-right bedpost. I rushed over to it, swallowing down the nausea. No. It wasn’t connected to the actual bed. There was a metal hook in the bedpost, like it had been planted there just for an occasion like this, and it was locked in place.

Oh my God.

“Son of a bitch.” I yanked on the chain. Metal rattled, shaking the bed, but I got nowhere. He had me chained to a damn bed! “I’m going to kill him. I’m so going to kill him!”

Fury coated the inside of my mouth. I couldn’t believe it. Wrapping my hands around the chain, I yanked with everything in me. Wood creaked but didn’t give. I guessed I should’ve been grateful that the chain wasn’t heavy. Tears of anger burned the back of my eyes. I pulled on the chain until my palms ached, until the tears hit my cheeks. This can’t be happening. Over and over, I repeated those four words, but it was happening. This was reality.

Behind me, the door opened without any warning. I dropped the chain and turned, breathing heavy. There he was. The prince. Drake. And it looked like him—dark, shoulder-length hair and olive skin. It was a small relief that he no longer looked like Ren.

“I’m going to kill you,” I promised.

He arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Drake chuckled as he walked toward the bed, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “You haven’t touched your dinner.” He gestured to the nightstand. A covered plate sat untouched. “You should eat.”

I reached for the plate, and Drake seemed to sense that I had no intention of eating. He was wicked fast, snatching the tray away before I could beat him upside the head with it. My hands closed around empty air. “Unchain me,” I commanded.

“I don’t think so.” He placed the tray on the table where the pitcher had been. “You’re awake for all of five minutes and you abused one of mine.”

“One of yours bit me.” I lifted my left arm.

“And she has been dealt with.” Drake faced me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I do not want you injured.”

“Really?” I laughed harshly. “You have no problem injuring me.”

“That was before I knew what you were.”

“Oh, so beating the crap out of other females is okay? Feeding on them against their will?” I said when he looked like he was going to speak. “And I’m pretty sure you injured me earlier—”

“You were fighting me,” he replied coolly. “Am I supposed to stand there and not defend myself?”

“You have me chained to a fucking bed!” I shrieked like a banshee.

The dry smirk remained fixed on his face. “That is to protect others. Obviously, you cannot be trusted to behave like a civil creature.”

“Behave like a civil creature? Are you insane? You fed on me and brought me here against my will, and I’m supposed to behave?” I lurched for him out of anger and was immediately snapped back by the chain. A curse of frustration tore out of me. I couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation. “I am going to kill you.”

“How? You can’t even reach me.”

My head was going to explode. “But you’re going to get close enough to me eventually.”

“True,” he said. “And when I do, you’ll be willing.”

“Not likely.”

Drake’s smile grew.

My anger matched it. “You can’t pretend to be Ren anymore. I know.”

“I don’t need to pretend to be him.”

I started to pace as far as the chain would allow, which was from the nightstand to the halfway point of the bed. “I thought for a child to be conceived, it couldn’t be done with any trick or coercion,” I said.

“You would be correct.”

I eyed him as he moved closer. “But you pretending to be Ren would be trickery.”

“Would it? There isn’t exactly a handbook on these things. If you said yes, you would’ve given me consent.”

The bitter taste of shame clogged my throat even though I knew what had happened between Drake and me wasn’t my fault. I knew that, but the mortification was still there. “I would’ve given Ren consent. Not you.”

“Semantics.” He sat on the edge of the bed. I could probably have reached him, but only to grab his hair, and that wouldn’t have helped. “It was worth trying.”

Backing into the nightstand, I put as much space as the chain would allow between us. “You sicken me.”

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