AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Drystan just happens to be the figurehead. So what parts do the other two men play?
The mass of men around me has yet to disperse. I remain locked in place, one arm wrapped around my midsection uncomfortably while the other holds the torn neckline of the dress closed. I’m too afraid to move. Are they leaving me to be used by these men? From their jeering taunts and perverse stares, I think they might be.
Until… “The girl is off limits,” Drystan growls. “Touch her and you die. She belongs to us.”
Chapter 4
Thalia
NOW
Anxiously, I sit in the back seat, uncomfortably pressed up against Weylen. His arm is slung around my shoulders, keeping me tight to his side. At some point during the ride, Drystan turned on the radio, a melancholy dark academia playlist whose violins play directly into my sad soul. It’s not loud enough to be bothersome, just enough to fill the void of silence stretching between us.
I think back on last night and the woman I saw them sharing. I was on my way back to my room, ready to turn in for the night. The monsters had forced me to sit at their side as they drank the night away. The women lost their clothes at some point, grinding and lapping at one another as if they were lollipops and they wanted to find each other’s center.
A few hours in, they left me to my own devices. The moment the women began climbing on the men, I was out. There was no one to stop me, and I sure as hell was not going to stick around for a live porno. I’d already seen enough to last me a lifetime.
I heard someone moaning Weylen’s name. A long, sultry moan that was loud enough to filter into the hallway from the partially closed door. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peered inside. Drystan lay on his back, his body naked, while a red-haired woman rode him. Color spread through my cheeks when I saw the reason why the woman was calling Weylen’s name. He was pumping into her from behind, double-teaming her.
Then another figure joined them. The one with the odd French accent. Except he didn’t go to the woman. He settled himself behind the girl next to Weylen and…well, I didn’t stick around to see more. No matter how intriguing it might have been.
Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I rush my mind back to the present, unwilling to linger on what I saw and the storm of emotions it caused inside me. I want to cry. I feel tiny and scared right now, but I cried so much last night that I’m not sure I can shed any more tears. The fact that I managed to fall asleep was a miracle.
I’d been lost in a dream filled with lust and desire when I woke to the jarring knock of doom on my door this morning. I knew the nightmare had been real. Now I’m here, stuck in this car with three monsters and some somber violins.
A chilling hand on my arm instantly gains my attention. Opening my eyes, my gaze lands on the enormous man next to me. The car has stopped at what looks to be a small gas station. They don’t bother to ask me if I want to get out and stretch my legs. Drystan simply exits the car, signaling the attendant to fill it. This isn’t customary in New York, but from the way the man bows his head to Drystan, as if he’s royalty, it doesn’t matter. This is a man who is loyal to the Blood Kings.
My captor tips the serviceman generously, earning the ruthless monster a large, beaming smile that someone like him doesn’t deserve.
“Out, Thalia,” he orders as he takes his place back behind the wheel.
“What?” I’m confused. Are they leaving me here? Hope swells within me, but it’s quickly dashed when I notice Asher getting out of the front seat and opening my door.
“You look a little pale,” Asher tells me as he helps me into his vacated seat. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re starting to get motion sick.”
I’m not carsick. This helpless situation I find myself in is causing my anxiety to spike and my stomach to roll. Not that I’m going to tell them that. It will be nice to be away from Weylen’s stifling body. I’m not used to being so near to another person, constantly touched. Once Asher settles in the back seat, Drystan pulls back onto the freeway.
“How far away are we?” I ask tentatively. I wasn’t paying attention to the fuel gauge, so I’m unsure if we drove far enough to go through an entire tank of gas or if it just hadn’t been filled in the first place. I’m guessing the latter since they drove to the house. Still, I was so lost in thought that time passed without me noticing it.
“It’s a bit farther.”
That’s as clear as mud.
“And a bit farther is…” Apparently, this man doesn’t know one needs to apply a numerical value to distance and not some vague, overly generalized bullshit.
“A bit farther.”
The two men in the back snigger. Assholes. Clenching my jaw, I turn my body away from Drystan toward the window, watching as the scenery flies by. I try to keep control of my breathing, focusing on bringing in a deep breath, holding it, and letting it out again slowly. Anxiety is something I’ve suffered from for as long as I can remember. The doctor says it’s a side effect of always wanting to be in control.
Can’t argue with that.
And right now, I have no control whatsoever.
Drystan’s large hand lands on my upper thigh. It’s icy cold, breaking through the surge of electricity humming just beneath my skin. My body tenses, and my gaze draws away from the window to watch the enormous man beside me.
“Breathe, Thalia.” It sounds almost like a growl, a deep timbre tucked away in his chest. When I say nothing, he shakes his head slightly. I expect him to remove his hand, but instead, it snakes farther up my leg. Instinctively, I reach down to stop him, gripping his hand in both of mine, attempting to shove it away. It’s no use. He’s stronger than me, and nothing I do deters the path he’s set on conquering.
He pinches the top of my thigh and grins when I give a little squeak, more out of surprise than pain. His hand continues to roam the inside of my thigh, his thumb stroking the sensitive area through my black leggings. I wish I’d worn jeans. My heart beats a staccato rhythm at the unnerving feeling running through me. This action is gentle, but also possessive. A warning. I should feel repulsed. Disgusted. Yet there’s an unfamiliar warmth spreading through me, radiating from his touch.
