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Dean laughs. “I guess, if you want to put it that way. You were selected to serve, Athena. This is your fate in life.”
“So I can’t just leave? I can’t choose to go somewhere else, leave Blackmoor, have my own life when all this is over?”
“No.” Dean’s tone is flat and final. “You know too much about us, Athena, what happens here. We don’t like strangers in Blackmoor, and we don’t like those close to the families to leave. We value loyalty here above all else. If you’re not loyal—” he shrugs. “I can’t promise your safety if you were to try to leave Blackmoor.”
I know good and well what that means. “So I won’t be a mistress or a servant,” I snap, glaring at him. “If I can’t leave, then I’m no better than a prisoner. Or a slave.”
Dean chuckles, shrugging. “You can look at it that way if you want to be negative, Athena. I’m seeing that you often prefer to look at things in the worst possible light when it comes to us.”
“What other way should I look at it?” My voice is rising, but I can’t stop it. I can feel cold panic washing over me, that feeling of being trapped in a place I can’t ever escape.
“You could look at it as having a home for the rest of your life, free of rent, the only requirement being that you work your room and board off in the way that you choose, on your back and knees or with labor. You’ll live in comfort and relative luxury, a lot better off than many people, with nicer things and more security than so many people out in the world who have ‘freedom.’ They work and scrape and break their backs for minimum wage and poorly kept apartments in dangerous cities, you won’t have to worry about any of that. You’ll live on the estate; you and your mother will be provided for so long as you fulfill your duties. Everything you need will be given to you.”
“And can I date? Marry? Have children?” I glare at him. “Go out? Have friends? A life?”
“You are my pet,” Dean says flatly. “Whether you choose to fuck me or not, Athena, the only cock you’ll ever taste again is mine unless I permit otherwise. You will not have children, mine or otherwise. You are a part of the Blackmoor family now. You have no need for your own.”
Horror washes over me as I stare at him. “So I am a slave.”
“A pet.”
“It’s the same fucking thing!” I exclaim, shoving backward in the bath so that the water slops over the edge. “Humans can’t be pets, Dean! They can’t be kept in servitude like this! What you’re doing is fucking illegal.”
He shrugs. “Maybe in some places. But in Blackmoor, we do things differently.”
“You don’t have any real power over me,” I hiss. “You can’t own me, not really. If I want to leave, I’ll leave. You can’t take everything away from me.”
“You’re wrong.” Dean stands up. “The influence of the families extends out of Blackmoor. A house, a job, all of the trappings of a normal life, I could prevent you from having those things. I could track you, ensure that you never get away in a very real way, Athena, if you push me far enough. But you probably wouldn’t get that far. Once I sent my dogs after you, you’d be dead or returned to me before you could get even a glimpse of that normal life that you think you want so badly.”
I know he’s not talking about actual dogs. He’s referring to the enforcers for the families, the Devil’s Sons, the same gang that wants me dead anyway. I have no doubt that if they came after me, it wouldn’t be fun or pretty. And what the fuck does he mean about tracking me? Just the thought of Dean chipping me in some way or managing to track me in a way that meant he could see my every move, makes me nauseous.
“Forget what I said a minute ago,” Dean says brusquely, standing up. All traces of care or tenderness are gone now, replaced by a stern set of his jaw and that lordly manner that I’m so used to. “When you’re done with your bath, come to my room.”
“I—”
“No argument, Athena.” He leans down, cupping my chin almost gently in his hand. “Or do you want to be punished? Do you think your pretty little body could handle more after what you’ve been through tonight? What if I decided that tonight was the night that I wanted to take your ass? Or allow Cayde to take it after I’ve filled it with my cum? Perhaps I’ll cane you again, and then we can both have it, one after the other.”
I shudder, thinking of more pain, lashes on top of the bruised aching already spreading through me, the hot burn in my cheek that’s only partially soothed by the ointment. The idea of Dean in my ass is terrifying enough, but Cayde following him—I picture Cayde’s thick, fat cock, girthier than anyone else here. Just the thought of him thrusting mercilessly into my ass is enough to make me feel faint.
I swallow hard, nodding. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” Dean strokes my hair. “If you’re my good pet, Athena, nothing bad will ever happen to you again.”
But that’s not true.I know he can’t guarantee that any more than Cayde saying the other night that he won’t allow anyone to hurt me can be relied on. I wonder, too, what Dean would say if he knew about the letter, if he knew that it might be his own enforcers that are trying to come after me.
In the end, though, it doesn’t matter. I can feel the trap closing around me, and I wonder if it’s even worth fighting it. If I should just give in and let Dean be the winner. Accept a semi-comfortable life as his housekeeper, knowing that I’ll be safe, that my mother will be safe, even if it’s not the life that I want or that she would have wanted for me.
You’re just going to give in? Just like that? You’re going to let him win in every possible way?
I hate the thought of that. Every part of me rebels against it. But I don’t know what to fucking do anymore.
I lay in the bath for as long as I can until the water starts to get chilly and my fingertips wrinkle, and I know I don’t have any real choice but to get out, dry off, and head to Dean’s room.
Forget dressing up for him.Anything I put on is just going to wind up on the floor anyway, and I’m not about to make him think that I care about his experience. I just wrap the towel around myself, letting my damp hair fall down my back, wincing as I walk down the hall barefoot towards his room. I half expect to run into Cayde or Jaxon, but I don’t—they’re either already settled in for the night or out doing something else. Maybe someone else, who knows. I have to be faithful to the boys, but who knows if they’re faithful to me. The old double-standard, alive and well.
Dean is waiting for me on the bed, in just black silk boxers, and I can see that he’s already half-hard, the fly gaping to show the smooth, firm line of his cock. Despite myself, I feel a tingle of warmth between my own legs. I want to tell Dean, no, to refuse him, to not take any pleasure in going to bed with him, but I know all too well how good he can feel, even when there’s pain involved. My body seems to thrill to it every time, even when my mind is unsure or even outright angry with him. He knows how to push my buttons, and somehow that makes me even more frustrated with it all.
He grins at me, lazily reaching into his boxers and pulling himself out, his long-fingered hand wrapping around the shaft. “Come over here and spit on it, Athena. I need some lube.”
