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KEON
Shayd is being held in the dungeon under the villa.
The dungeon itself is rarely used. Atlas prefers to keep his personal life and his professional life separate, which means that he prefers not to use the facilities here to conduct any business.
I don’t think he’s been down to the dungeon himself. He doesn’t have to. He’s king.
After he subdued Shayd and made sure he was unconscious, two of his most trusted guards took him down to the dungeon and shackled him against the cold, stone wall.
Light floods the room when I step inside and I take a close look at him. He’s chained to the wall, cuffs holding up either wrist from the ceiling, a bar between his hands. His knees and elbows are scuffed, his hair messy. There’s dust on his clothes. His head is bowed down, his hands curled around the shackles that are holding him up so that he’s hovering right above the cold dirt ground.
It reminds me of art I’ve seen from Earth—of that Christian deity whose name I can’t remember.
Corvus is almost angelic.
His toes are pointed as his body slumps. I don’t know how long he’s going to be out for; he’s a strong man but Atlas is a fucking beast when he’s angry.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as angry as I did when he took Shayd down.
He was so furious I could practically see the electricity pulsing through his veins. I could feel the frequency coming off his body. I know that, when this is over, I need to have answers for him.
“Wake up,” I say, standing near him. I extend my hand and run a small current of electricity over his chest.
His hands clench into fists as he straightens up, his silver eyes shooting open as he grits his teeth.
“Hello,” I say, flashing him a smile.
He glares at me. Okay, so maybe he’s not as receptive as I need him to be, but I can work with him. There’s a chair nearby and I scrape it along the dirt gravel ground. The sound is annoying enough to make him grimace, but he’ll be able to keep his reactions to himself once he fully comes to.
He’s a professional.
And he’s going to do his best to keep me at bay.
But he’s in shackles and I’m in a comfortable seat. If this is a matter of patience, I know I’m going to be the one to win.
His muscles will eventually start aching, his limbs will scream for release, and he’ll beg me to let him out. I don’t know what Atlas intends to do with him yet, but before that happens, I just need him to tell me the truth.
“I see the appeal of restraints,” I say, looking into his eyes. His eyes flash a dark, angry purple. Gods, he’s pretty even when he’s all scuffed up. “But personally, I prefer the feel of a nice, soft bed under my knees. I know, a little vanilla for the deviant prince, but I do enjoy the element of surprise.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, which surprises me. He’s so fucking defiant, even now, even when he’s so clearly been defeated. It’s fucking delicious.
He’s fucking delicious.
And he’s a spy, so sleeping with him is probablynotideal.
“Let’s start with something simple,” I say, leaning forward, my hands on my knees. “Is your name really Shayd?”
“You can call me anything you want,” he says through gritted teeth. “Lover.”
The word feels like venom on his lips, but the way he’s staring right at me is almost enough to get me hard. “Thank you,” I say. I stand up and walk up to him, my hand on his chest. I take my knife out of my pocket and slice his shirt open, pressing the tip of the blade into his skin. It’s not hard enough to cut him, but I want him to be on high alert.
As soon as I do, his body thrums with electricity and his Gift practically sends me stumbling back. So he’s definitely not just an ordinary guard, just like I thought. That probably means extracting information from him is going to be harder than I anticipated.
I’ve always liked a challenge.
“You kept things from me,” I say.
“So did you, Keon. I thought that was part of the appeal.”
