Page 29 of The Searching Songbird

It grew louder, and Lily sank to her knees, worn down by the intensity of it all. Her head spun as the image of Mr. Benton splayed out on the wall began to twist and bend, morphing into an entirely different image as it sucked her in.

Now, she was the one shackled to the wall, her long, red hair hanging over her face like a curtain. A man holding a riding crop stood in front of her, and he smacked it against his hand, over and over, as he watched her through narrowed eyes. The hard expression aged him, but, in reality, he was probably only in his thirties. He was dressed well, with fawn-colored breeches tucked into expensive, leather boots. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his light brown hair looked disheveled, as if he'd run his hands through it repeatedly. His face was smooth, his features fine, and he would've been rather handsome if it weren't for the sinister twist of his lips, the sadistic gleam in his eyes.

“You're as stubborn as a mule,” he murmured. Leaning in, he ran a slow finger down her side, stopping just above her hipbone. “And as fiery as the marks you have here.” He tilted his head to the side. “So similar to my Marjorie's, with those intricate, black curves. Were you born with these marks, or did your previous master put them on you?”

When there was no reply, he stepped back and shrugged. “Shall we add a few new ones? Some nice stripes across your chest, perhaps?” He tapped her bare chest with the tip of his riding crop. “What do you think? Would you like that?”

Her stomach roiled and her body clamped down on itself, every muscle tense as she braced for the inevitable pain. Raising the crop over his shoulder, he flashed her a quick grin before whipping it back down with a sharp crack.

“I paid a pretty price for you, Fia, and I'm not going to let up until I own you, body and soul. You're mine.”

Chapter Fifteen

The blood of the rich will nourish the soil of the new world.

The words that had been painted across Benton's wall played through Draven's mind, over and over until he thought he might rip his hair out just to feel something other than the weight that had wrapped around him.

Guilt.

How many men – and women, for that matter – had he harmed over the past year, following the orders of a man he barely knew? Sure, in the beginning, he'd been desperate, willing to do anything in order to save his family's home and keep his mother and sister safe. But now? Knowing what kind of things the people he worked with were willing to do? Was this really what he had become? If he brought Lily back to Antos, would she, too, end up gutted and splayed across some wall?

The very thought was enough to make him retch.

“Damn it!”

Three pairs of eyes turned his way, watching him with wary concern. Shit. He'd completely forgotten where he was – seated at the captain's table with the other paying passengers, staring blankly at a plate of uneaten food. Captain Melbrooke, himself, wasn't there. He hadn't left his post at the wheel since the incident the other night, and the rest of the crew was on high alert, keeping watch for any more attacks.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding the others' gazes as he shoved a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. Soon, they too, went back to eating in silence. Pushing his food around, he resisted the urge to sigh. He wouldn't have even bothered coming to the dining room if it weren't for Lily. After she passed out the other night in Benton's cabin, the captain had taken her back to her own room, and, as far as he knew, she hadn't left it once today. Not even for meals, damn it.

He needed to see her. To verify for himself that she was okay. That scene she'd walked in on – the way Benton's body had been displayed – it was enough to give a grown man nightmares. It wasn't at all surprising that she'd fainted at the sight of it.

Pushing back from the table, he gave the others a brusque nod before standing and striding out the door, leaving his mostly untouched meal on the table. If she wasn't in the dining room, she was most likely still in her room. He'd just stop by real quick, see how she was faring. The captain would probably have a fit if he found out, but that was the least of his concerns right now.

He'd never been one to care much about propriety, anyway.

Her room was quiet when he arrived at the door, and he hesitated, his fist already poised to knock.

What if she turned in early? Maybe I should wait until tomorrow, check on her then.

He lowered his hand, his eyes still boring holes in the wood door. Maybe the morning would be better.

But we arrive in Flores tomorrow.

Without giving it another thought, he rapped on the door. There was a rustling sound followed by feet hitting the floor. Moments later the door was cracking open and Lily's big, blue eyes were looking up at him from the other side.

“Oh! It's you.” She pulled the door open farther, her other hand going to her hair as she ran a smoothing hand over the messy locks. “This is the second time you've come to my room, you know. Do you make a habit of visiting women in their chambers? How scandalous.” She attempted a teasing smile, but it looked forced, at odds with her bloodshot eyes.

“Only when they abandon me at dinner, forcing me to make conversation with the likes of Gunter Haggs and Mr. Adams.” He gave a mock shudder. “It was quite cruel of you, really.”

“Considering our situations have been reversed for most of the journey, you'll forgive me if I seem unconcerned.”

“You wound me.”

“Mmm hmm. Was there something you needed me for, Draven? Or are you just here to complain about your tedious dining experience?”

A flash of heat shot through him at her words, and he had to force himself not to reach out and touch her, even as every fiber of his being begged to hold her. Oh, he needed her, all right. More than he had a right to. But that's not why he was there, and he'd do well to remember that.

“I just wanted to see how you were faring. Last night was... intense.”