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Twice Victor had mentioned such a kiss, and I had no idea what it meant.
Ily shifted on the spot. I didn’t have the strength to look at her. To make eye contact with her while discussing her as if she were a car I was about to buy. A very expensive sports car that came with a complex instruction manual and special licensing. A limited edition that I’d have to share with other collectors all while being the one who got to garage it at night.
Fucking hell.
Another bout of nausea grabbed me by the throat. Surprising me. Enlightening me. For all my deep, dark tendencies, apparently, when face to face with abhorrent choices, I still valued the sovereignty and safety of everyone…including those labelled as slaves by a bastard overlord.
Remember why you’re here.
This was never about me. This was always about them. About my brother. About…her.
“Fine.” I nodded. “I want in on the part ownership. After all, you used me as bait to catch her. I’m incentivised to watch over my prize.”
“Bait?” He chuckled, looking me up and down. “I admit, you do have a certain bad-boy allure that could attract plenty more women and men. Perhaps, in exchange for part ownership, I’ll employ you to fish for me. The calibre you could catch would ensure I had the most glittering gems in every syndicate.”
I fought the urge to either kill him or kill myself. “I’d rather just have the fish I’ve already caught, if it’s all the same to you.” I gritted my teeth and smiled. “Are we going to stand around here all day talking in code again, or can I fuck her now?”
Ily twitched but didn’t say a word.
Images of her naked in my bed consumed me. The thought of keeping her close at night as well as during the day—of being able to protect her when darkness fell and monsters roamed?
It was the least I could do for her.
But then again…if I had her in my room? Completely at my mercy with no one to watch or hear our little show? I honestly didn’t know what I’d do. How far I’d fall. How badly I’d give in.
Not waiting for Victor to respond to my question, I kicked Ily’s leg with my loafers. Hard enough to look like a cunt, soft enough not to bruise. It made my stomach churn and cock lurch. “Get up. Now.”
Without a hint of a fight, Ily shot to her feet. Her golden collar and cuffs caught the low lights in the library. Her wand tattoo flexed down her back as she fought her hatred and stayed meek instead.
“I see you’ve finally gotten through to her.” Victor smirked. “But one does wonder…whatever did you whisper about for so long against the books?” His eyes narrowed, watching me closely.
I shut down the worried butterflies in my gut. “Are you insinuating something?”
“Should I be?” Victor cocked his head. “I’ve known many guests to have a great many fetishes. Some like to use toys. Others get off on degradation. Most enjoy granting pain, and yet…” He stepped toward me. “You seem to like talking to them.”
“Is that forbidden?” I arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying I can’t?”
“Depends on what you were saying.” Pinning his attention on Ily, he drawled, “Tell me, my sweetling. What did he whisper so ardently to you about? You can share. His secrets are safe with me.”
Her shoulders braced, but she kept her chin respectfully down. “He said he wanted to bruise me with every book in the library.” She swallowed and spoke a little louder. “He said he wants to make me his in every possible way.”
“Oh?” Victor smiled. “And what ways are those?”
Sweat rolled down my spine.
In a single sentence, Ily not only signed her existence over to me but also dug a grave beside mine. She willingly covered for me. Made up lies for me. Confessed things on my behalf.
Keeping her gaze firmly on the carpet, she dropped her voice as if the things she was about to say were too vile to be heard. “H-He said he wants to tear me apart. T-To bleed me and drink up every drop. Just like he…just like he likes to drink my tears.”
“Oh, so that’s what you were doing.” Victor slapped his leg as if a great mystery had been solved. “I had no idea why you were cradling her on the floor. I admit, it made me doubt you for a moment there.”
Doing my best to hide the way my insides twisted, I said, “Drinking her grief makes me rock fucking hard.”
Peter flinched. The only sign he was affected by this despicable conversation.
“Delightful.” Victor grinned. “Tell me more. What else gets you hard, Henri?”
“I’ve already told you.”
