Page 6 of Glutton for Punishment

“Arwen!”

This time, the world holds, and I release my breath in relief when I see him in the cell next to me. Unharmed.

His storm-blue eyes search me with naked urgency. His hair is disheveled—for possibly the first time in his life—and there’s dried blood at his temple that sends a spike of panic through me.

“Atticus,” I croak.

My voice sounds wrong. Weak. But his shoulders sag visibly at the sound of it.

“Thank the universe you’re awake,” he breathes.

I push myself upright, the movement slow and unsteady. My wrists ache. I look down at the shackles etched with faint symbols.

His gaze flicks over me, sharp and assessing. “Someone has us cuffed so we can’t use our power. Are you hurt?”

“I…” My head pulses as the pieces slam into place.

“Atticus,” I say urgently, scooting closer to the bars between us. “We have to get out of here.”

“Do you know where we are?” He asks, looking around at our captivity.

I draw in a steadying breath, bracing to admit that we’ve landed in the prison of his number one enemy.

Before the words can form, footsteps echo down the corridor, drawing our attention. The heavy door groans open, metal shrieking against metal, and every nerve in my body snaps to attention.

Councilor Blaise steps inside wearing a smile.

“Blaise.” Atticus is on his feet before the echo of the door fades.

He slams into the cage, hands fisting around the metal. He shakes the bars violently, breath coming fast and furious like he might tear them free through sheer will alone.

My skull still pulses from whatever they injected me with. I step back, eyes tracking Blaise’s movement. I won’t be caught unaware again.

“Honestly,” he says, faint irritation creasing his brow. “Have some decorum. You’re the heir of Pride, not some feral animal.”

He barely spares Atticus a glance.

“I do wish I could see the look on your father’s face when he’s told about your whereabouts. Caged in the dungeons of Greed.” A soft chuckle. “Alas—no one can know you’re here. Discretion is invaluable.”

He sighs like his favorite toy has been taken away.

Atticus growls and throws his shoulder into the bars again as fury rolls off him in waves. “Stay away from her!”

I force myself to speak. “What do you want with us?”

Blaise approaches my cell slowly, as his eyes travel over me without shame, like he’s calculating my value. “This could have been far more simple for you, Arwen, if you only would have submitted to Ryker.”

Atticus snaps. “Arwen would never submit to that scumbag.”

Blaise doesn’t even look at him.

“There is a delicate balance to power,” he continues. “You threaten that balance. Now, I don’t oppose volatility—provided it yields a return.”

My stomach knots as his predatory smile sharpens.

“Atticus’s father believes the solution is to remove you from the equation,” Blaise says, dismissive. “Liquidation, if you will. Crude. Shortsighted.”

He meets my eyes. “You, however, represent long-term value.”