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I had heard the stories of the demented things Cole did to those who shared his bed. I saw the glee seep into his face as I frantically looked left and right down the hallway for anyone nearby.
“You know as well as I do that this corridor is always abandoned. That’s why you always take it, to avoid people,” he taunted.
My nostrils flared. He was right. Jay had made me promise not to wander around Court by myself, but I often took this quiet corridor as a shortcut, anyway.
And then, as if reading my mind, he said, “Go ahead and scream. No one will hear you. I may only have a drop of my magic left, but that was all I needed to shield us from prying ears.”
He had blocked out noises from around us, at the same time, keeping our voices in. That explained the eerie silence that hung over us. He pressed his body against mine, and I could feel his hardness rubbing against me. It was sickening. The more I showed my disgust, the more he reacted to me, touching me, so I tried a different tack. I became rigid and disinterested. I would get him talking while I figured out my next move.
“Why would you possibly want me? I’m a mutt, remember?” Maybe he would get disgusted with himself and back off.
“You’re a filthy fucking mutt. That hasn’t changed,” he spat. “But I’ve figured out something about you that no one else has,” he bragged, too-gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, then resting his hand around my jaw, firmly grasping it and forcing my eyes up to his. “See, I saw you with Lord Vitruvian at the Winter Gala. Then everyone knows he started gaining his powers back. And then he managed to impregnate his wife—the first fae to do so in the last couple of decades.”
He leaned his head down to reach my mouth, his firm hand holding my head in place, a stark contrast to his gentle kiss. His thin lips grazed against mine. I felt bile rise in my throat as my heart pounded out of my chest.
“Everyone else thinks Lord Vitruvian is responsible for his own miraculous recovery. But no one else is gaining their powers back, are they? No one else is having fae babies. The only thing that he has that the rest of us don’t isyou.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You and that big oaf ruined my plans with Lord Garaud. Now, you’re going to make this right for me. You have some kind of magic that helps other people get their magic back, and I want it,” he said.
“You’re insane. Do you hear yourself? I’ve never had any kind of magical ability my entire life. What magical ability could I possibly have that would restore someone else’s magic? That would get another woman pregnant? That kind of magic doesn’t exist, Cole,” I protested, trying to make him see reason.
His hand moved to my throat, and all his earlier gentleness was gone. He began to squeeze his fingers around my windpipe as he whispered in my ear. In his other hand, he produced a dagger. There was a heat coming off it that made my skin itch. He saw the moment I realized the dagger was made of iron and grew harder against me as genuine fear crept into my eyes.
Unperturbed, he said, “It does exist, and I’ll be taking it now. Is it in your blood?” he questioned darkly.
He jerked my head to the side. Right under my jawline, he lightly trailed the blade against my skin, creating a shallow cut. I stayed perfectly still, holding my breath so that the iron dagger he held against my throat didn’t cut deeper.
Cole lowered his mouth and licked the length of my throat, consuming the faint trail of blood that escaped from the wound.
“Or is it between your legs?” he asked, pushing his knee between my thighs and forcing them apart.
Revolted, I tried to think of a way out of the situation. I would wait until he was in a more vulnerable position and then lash out. That meant allowing him to continue to touch me. I was going to be sick.
“Come on, fight me. It’s more fun when you do,” he taunted. “I know you like it rough. You seemed to really enjoy being pinned against that wall when you were getting fucked at the Winter Gala.”
I wanted to scream, but I knew screaming would be of no use.But maybe I don’t need to scream, a small voice whispered in my head.
I thought of Jay, my Lord of Whispers. Cole was right. For whatever reason, Jay’s power was returning to him. He had once told me that whispering his name was like skipping to the front of the very long queue of whispers he constantly intercepted. He said that at the height of his power, invoking his name would break through any shields like the one Cole had in place. I didn’t know if it would work, but it was my last hope before I got really desperate.
“Lord of Whispers,Jay,” I pleaded. “Help me.”
Cole’s hand began to tighten once more around my throat, causing black and white dots to float in and out of my vision. He laughed.
“I told you, you stupid fucking mutt. No one can hear you, not even your Lord of Whispers.”
“Lord of Whispers, Lord of Whispers, Lord of Whispers, Lord of Whispers,” I chanted over and over with my remaining breath.
Jay had told me that the more times his name was said, the more likely he would be to hear the whisper. Cole moved his forearm across my throat, pinning me to the wall.
“Enough of that. I don’t need you chanting some other guy’s name the entire time I’m fucking you.”
It hadn’t worked. With all hope lost, I went crazy, kicking and clawing at Cole. But he was significantly taller and stronger than me. All my efforts got me was more pressure exerted on my throat. I stopped flailing and clawed at his arm restricting my windpipe, unable to breathe, hoping he would let me take a breath. I gasped for air, and his tongue filled my open mouth. I tasted my own blood on his lips.
I closed my eyes, trying to gather myself. And then I felt the pressure of his arm move from my throat. I gasped in ragged breaths of air. Then I heard a wet smacking noise.
I opened my eyes to see Jay, violence blazing in his cold gray eyes, standing over Cole, his fist repeatedly smashing into Cole’s face with wet, sickening crunching sounds.
