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I raise a brow at her as our professor walks in to begin class.
Leaning in, I whisper in her ear. "You're mine, Mia. I can do what the fuck I like."
She squirms in her seat, pressing her thighs together. The sight of her fighting with her desire makes my cock hard as a fucking rock.
If it weren't for the eyes that Cade has in every inch of this college, I'd drag Mia out of class right now and show her just how much I mean what I just said, but I can't put her in danger like that.
After class, we walk toward the parking lot together. But instead of her getting in my car, she heads toward where Sasha is waiting for her.
I want to stop her, to demand that she gets in my car, but I know I can't. Us turning up at the house together would be suicide, even if Cade did watch me escort her into class earlier. I have no doubt he'll make me pay for that move before long.
I follow Sasha's car back to the house to find everyone else already here.
The three of us walk into the kitchen to find only Mulligan there, preparing dinner.
"Oh, Miss Cargill, Miss Thompson, Mr. Easton. Mr. Kingsley would like you to join him in the mausoleum as soon as possible."
The three of us look at each other, unease rippling through the air.
Whenever I've been down there, something really fucking bad has happened, and I have no reason to think this time is going to be any better.
"Let's go," I say, striding across the kitchen toward the doors that lead to the yard.
There's no time like the present than to see what kind of hell Cade is about to show us.
22
Mia
I don’t want to be here.
I don’t want to step foot in the place where Cade revealed the true depths of his depravity. But we have been summoned.
And King Cade waits for no one.
“What do you think he wants?” I ask Sasha over the pounding of my heart.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Bexley presses his hand against the small of my back, guiding me into the mausoleum.
“I really fucking hate this place,” he grumbles.
A wave of nausea washes over me as I remember the last time we were here.
“Don’t do that,” Bexley whispers. “Don’t let him in.”
I don’t want to, but as we descend the stone staircase, it’s hard to keep the memories out. If Brook is down here, I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain myself.
“You’re shaking,” Sasha says, squeezing my hand tighter.
“I’m fine.” I steel myself for whatever we’re about to find in the den.
Muffled voices fill the air and fear trickles down my spine.
We spill into the room, and I smother a gasp at the sight of a guy tied to a chair in the middle of the room.
“What is this?” Sasha asks, and I’m in awe of the indifference in her voice. She almost sounds bored, as if it’s just another day.
