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Cy thrashed against the firm body above him, gritting his teeth. “Put a weapon in my hands, see what happens. Which one of us would come out on top.”
“You’re that confident?” Thorne chuckled. “I think I’ll keep you just as you are.”
“Enjoy an easy fight? Too scared of a challenge?”
“Such a mouth. No wonder Haven favors you. You keep things interesting, don’t you, pet? I like to do the same.” Thorne tore into Cy’s neck once again. Drag after drag, he took until Cy felt lightheaded.
“Did Haven let you touch him?” Thorne’s voice was no more than a whisper, but still, Cy could hear the danger. “Did you put your filthy human hands on my property?”
Cy’s eyes flashed around the room. His fingers itched.
Thorne wrenched him around, forcing him to his back on the mattress. Red eyes bore into him, filled with hate and malice. “Answer me!”
“You did that to him!” Cy managed. “You poisoned him. He was in pain.”
“So you admit it. You touched him. Helet youtouch him.”
“I’d do it again,” Cy hissed. “I’d do it a million times if it would stop him from feeling what you did to him!”
Thorne roared. In a flash, he lunged. At the same time, Cy dove forward, wrenching onto one of the slim wooden columns of the four-poster bed. He yanked with all his remaining strength until it came free like a sword from a sheath, its end tipped in a brutal point.
Cy’s arms shook as he heaved his body at Thorne, stake aimed for Thorne’s heart. Of course, Thorne ducked out of the way, batting Cy away as easily as one might swat a fly. Cy was drained, exhausted. Only a few more sucks, and Cy might have met his end.
But he didn’t dare stop fighting. Thorne would kill him. Or worse.
In his current state, the vampyre was so much faster. Even as he thrust out with his stake, Thorne darted away, slashing at his chest and opening a fresh crimson wound. Not nearly enough blood pooled from the torn skin. God, was he that close to empty?
Cy staggered as Thorne glided like a phantom out of his reach. Again and again, Cy thrust out into the space between them. But his vision was growing blurry, his depth perception fading.
From behind him, Cy heard a chuckle in his ear. How had Thorne gotten there so quickly? His eyes hadn’t even registered the movement. But no. Thorne was still in front of him, smirking a horrible, dangerous smirk.
A blow to the back of Cy’s knees had him stumbling to the ground. His makeshift stake tumbled from his hands, rolling across the slanted floors. His fingers scrambled for purchase as he desperately tried to reach his only weapon.
A weight on his back as a body settled over his hips. A familiar voice purred against his neck, “Well, hello there, handsome. Did you miss me?”
“Merick.” Thorne grinned down at them. “I know how fond you are of this one. I assumed you’d like to have a hand in getting him to talk.”
“You assumed correctly as always, Lord Thorne.”
Cy writhed below the vampyre’s heaving weight. He couldn’t let this happen. He knew what Merick would do. A fist in his hair yanked at his head so hard he felt it would be wrenched from his shoulders. And then, as his forehead was slammed to the floor below, his world went black.
Everything hurt. Hisskin was slick with sweat and blood. But with arms outstretched and tightly bound, he could barely move. His body hung from chains wrapped around his wrists. His toes just grazed the floor. A sharp, pinching pain began at the inner crook of his elbow. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw lines of blood being funneled to and from the injection points. A transfusion of some sort? What were they putting inside him?
A pulse of desire coursed through him, and he doubled over as best as he could with his arms bound and outstretched.
Ambrosia.
His cock was hard and weeping between his legs, his body exposed, cold and hot at the same time. He ached. It had been years since he’d felt anything so severe, so humiliating. Rage flooded him like molten steel, hardening and forming a barrier around him. He wanted to kill.
“Oh, good. You’re awake. This should be much more enjoyable now that I’ve got a living, breathing plaything.”
Merick. Cy bared his teeth, struggling against his chains as Merick moved into his line of vision, smiling and showcasing long white teeth. “How do you feel?” he asked.
Cy hissed as Merick’s thick hand wound around the shaft of his cock. Every nerve ending was on fire with sensitivity and Merick’s touch, as vile as it was, felt like bliss. “Get your fucking hands off me,” he growled.
“Or what? What will you do, vampyre slayer?” Merick was only inches away now, so close their lips could touch. “You might have killed vampyres in a past life, but now you’re nothing more than a pet. A helpless one at that. Fight all you want. It won’t matter. Because your master’s not here to save you now.”
Cy gasped as Merick’s thumb grazed his slit and rubbed over it. He didn’t want to feel. Didn’t want to feel this.
