Home > Torn (A Wicked Saga #2)(69)

Torn (A Wicked Saga #2)(69)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

A look of confusion appeared on his face.

“I know I’m no longer of any use to you once I pop out the apocalypse baby—”

He sighed. “I wish you would stop calling the baby that.”

I ignored him. “Once I pop out the apocalypse baby, you’re going to kill me. I don’t care how hot you think you are, or how skilled you like to believe your magic cock is, me not wanting this is my life insurance policy.”

“I thought you wanted a window to jump out of and a moat full of hungry alligators.”

My eyes narrowed. “Maybe I don’t plan to honor our deal. Unlike the fae, I’m not bound by my promises.”

He tipped his head back, closing his eyes. My back stiffened. I was insulted. Offended. I was a badass fighter, and he was so not scared of me that he was about to take a freaking nap!

“You know, little bird,” he said slowly, his fingers tapping along the arm of the black chair. “I plan to keep you afterward. Your mouth amuses me. Perhaps I will have a pretty cage fashioned to hold my pretty red-headed bird.”

I gaped at him. “You should go update your Match.com profile with that information. The ladies will be lining up outside, because nothing screams romance like being held captive in a cage.”

Drake chuckled darkly. “Ah, you are amusing.”

“I am not amusing!” I lifted my chin. “I’m pissed.”

“Really,” he replied dryly. “I never would’ve guessed that.”

Heat swept over me as my anger creeped into cut-a-bitch territory. “I’m going to kill you. I will find a way, and I will kill you for everything you have done to Ren, and everything you’re doing to me.”

The prince tipped his head to the side.

“And that’s not a warning. It’s a promise I won’t even consider backing out of.”

His fingers stilled, and that should have been warning enough, but I was too pissed to recognize that I’d gone too far.

The prince was out of the chair and in front of me in less than half a second. Not even a heartbeat had passed. How fast he could move would never cease to amaze and terrify me.

He gripped my arm and spun me around. His hand landed in the center of my back, but I didn’t fall forward. Oh no, I flew forward. Like the length of the room. I threw my hands out, and my palms smacked into the paneled wall a second before my face would have.

The prince was at my back in under a nanosecond, pressing and sealing my body to the wall. “My amusement has its limitations, little bird.” His breath was icy against my ear. “There’s something you haven’t realized, and I am done waiting for it to connect. There are worse things I could do to you than end your life. And it’s time you learned that.”

Oh. Shit.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I wasn’t surprised when the metal band was snapped around my neck again, but when he took the chain and dragged me out into the hallway, I had no idea what was about to go down.

The whole earning his trust thing had belly-flopped out the window.

Drake didn’t speak as he led me downstairs, and there was no way I was getting away from him at this moment. Not when he was this angry.

I wasn’t stupid. Running my mouth may have made it appear that way, but I was smart enough to taste fear on the tip of my tongue.

There was a blur of fae faces as he took me back toward the room full of cots and humans. The ancient guarding the door eyed the chain wrapped around Drake’s fist, smirking as he stepped aside. My cheeks burned with humiliation. Being led around, dragged from one room to the next with a chain in this ridiculous dress went beyond public shame.

He moved to the center of the room, and I stopped just inside, my toes curling against the cool wood floor. The cots weren’t nearly as full as they had been the last time I was here. Three of them were occupied. One of the humans, a female who looked like she was in her mid-thirties, was awake, staring listlessly at the ceiling. The other two were guys who looked like they were barely in their twenties, and they were asleep or passed out.

There was only one other fae in the room, a male who was leaning against the wall, his attention focused on the cellphone in his hand. I wondered if he was checking his Facebook account, and I squelched a hysterical giggle.

Drake looked over his shoulder, brows furrowed. Our gazes met, and a smile formed on his lips, turning cruel. A second later, he jerked the chain.

I resisted, and pressure clamped down on my neck, making it hard to swallow or breathe. Panic balled in the pit of my stomach, heavy like stones. Reflex took over, and I gripped the chain.

“You fight me even though you know it’s pointless.” Drake walked toward me, and the tension in the chain eased. Air rushing down my throat pushed back the panic. He stopped in front of me. “It’s either incredibly foolish or courageous. Which is it?”

I met his stare but refused to answer his question.

One eyebrow rose as he leaned in. His mouth was next to my cheek. “You’re a fighter, even when it’s useless. I can respect that, but that doesn’t mean I won’t break you.”

Turning my head from his, I exhaled roughly. “You’re not going to break me.”

“Is that so? I think I’m already well on my way.” He lifted the chain, rattling it. “You’re in my chains, eating my food, sleeping in my bed, and wearing my clothes.” His head tilted as he reached up with his other hand and traced a finger along my neck. I leaned back, and he chuckled as if I amused him. “You’ve already agreed to be with me. How exactly am I not breaking you, little bird?”

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