Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Henri shuddered.
Fresh grief rolled down my cheeks. Peter gave me a heartbreaking look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Henri’s.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want to be in pain. But I couldn’t watch Henri be tortured. I wouldn’t survive watching a loved one be brutalised and beaten.
Maybe the Vedic astrologer was right all along.
Perhaps this was how we would destroy each other.
By loving each other so much yet being utterly helpless to protect.
My heart shattered into teeny tiny pieces as Henri’s lips quirked into a sexy half smile. Instead of submitting to Victor and accepting his new place as his prisoner, he stood so regally, so resolutely, I fell in love all over again.
“Do whatever you want to me, Vic. Play your games. Break my bones. Make me scream. I don’t care.” His gaze left mine and narrowed on Victor. “But I suggest you keep record of every lash you give me, every droplet of blood you claim, because one day I’ll do the same to you.”
A few Masters laughed.
Victor glowered. “I knew you’d be proud, my pet. But I didn’t know you’d be stupid.” Crossing his arms, he backed up. “I had planned on giving you a choice tonight. A choice of obeying me without question. If you had, I would’ve fed Ilyana your reward. I would’ve ensured she went to bed—a warm comfy bed—with a full belly. You would’ve been in pain but at least you would’ve been content knowing you provided for her.”
Henri shot me a glance. His nostrils flared. “Feed her and Peter, promise me they won’t be touched, and I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“Nope. Not tonight. You no longer get a choice.” Victor snapped his fingers. “Blind him. Gag him. Deafen him. Let’s see how he behaves after a night of no senses.”
A guard stepped forward with a black bag dangling in his hands. Marching up the stage steps, he clamped a pair of noise cancelling headphones over Henri’s ears, shoved a ball gag between his teeth and buckled it into place, then wrenched a black hood over Henri’s head.
The last thing I saw was a flash of panic in his gorgeous grey eyes before the hood hung down to his shoulders, and Victor swept out of the ballroom in a huff.
* * * * *
That night was the longest of my life.
The Masters left with their jewels. Dirty dishes were cleared away. The lights were turned off. And the sliding doors were left wide open, allowing an icy breeze to kick through the tablecloths and soak into our frozen limbs.
One a.m., two a.m., three…
No one came to unchain us.
No one offered us food or comfort.
Peter shifted from standing to sitting to lying on the wooden floor.
I followed.
I huddled in a tiny silver-clad ball, shuddering and twitching with bone-deep cold.
My teeth chattered, and I longed for the dirty, scratchy blanket from the dungeon. At least down there, we had each other. We had facilities when our bladders grew too full and a sense of safety when panic became too thick.
Somehow, the richly decorated ballroom became an even worse cell than the dew-dripping, rat-infested caves below.
We didn’t talk.
What could we say?
Henri couldn’t hear us.
He couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t see.
By four a.m., I tripped in and out of desperate, despairing sleep. I woke to a slicing pain deep in my middle from hunger or horror—I could no longer tell the difference.
I glanced at Henri.
His knees had buckled, his arms stretched high and holding him upright.
I hoped he slept.
I hoped he’d passed out from the pain and claustrophobia of being so shackled.
A trickle of saliva ran down his naked chest, catching the moonlight outside. I cried myself back to sleep, imagining the agony of his jaw with the ball gag locked between his teeth. The way he wouldn’t be able to stop drooling. The absolute panic he must feel being so vulnerable and bound while blindfolded, gagged, and deafened.
I’m here. I opened my heart and sent him all the love I had left. I’m here. You’re not alone.
He groaned and sagged against the pole.
Peter shivered quietly in the dark.
And I begged the sun to rise before we froze.
* * * * *
“Did you piss on my floor, Paavak?”
I shot awake just as Victor kicked Peter across the room.
He grunted as Victor’s loafer caught him in the side.
Backing away, Victor growled at the closest guard. “Get a cleaner to disinfect the floor. He’s made a fucking mess.”
“Yes, Sir V.” The guard took off but not before his gaze narrowed on me as I fought trembling, exhausted limbs and tried to sit upright. I’d managed to ignore the slicing pain in my bladder, but…I wouldn’t be able to for much longer. And the thought of wetting myself added yet another layer of horror.
I stopped breathing as the guard skidded to a stop on the threshold and looked back. His gaze met mine. He sighed with a wince as if unable to stand our condition, then took off before I could decide if it was real or fanciful wishing.