She drags her eyes up and down on my body with derision, and it's clear I'm found wanting. I bristle under her assessing gaze.
“It's a pity you're the one king Raoul is convinced is his mate.” She draws herself to her full height, throwing her shoulders back and tilting her head up proudly. “What does a mere human know about our ways? He needs a strong tigress to help him lead.”
Comprehension dawns on me as I realized this woman is a tiger shifter, and she undoubtedly wants to be Raoul’s queen. I feel a stab of something that I don’t even want to identify, but I shake it off because all I want is my freedom.Icertainly don’t want Raoul.
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Well, then by all means, take him.” I splay my hands at her. “I don't want to rule your pack. Let me go and you can have him.”
Her eyes turn livid with rage as she hisses at me, “My point exactly! Tigers do not travel in packs. You are not worthy of our streak!”
I nod. “I agree with you, and newsflash. I don't want to be here either, lady. So why don't you just help me break out of here, and then you can live happily ever after and rule your little pack—” At her growl, I correct myself, “—streak, whatever you want to call it.”
She rolls her eyes at me like I'm being a petulant child. “That is not how this works, you silly child. It doesn't matter if I remove you or not. Raoul has recognized you as his mate, and he will not easily let you go. What's done is done, so you might as well get used to it. I certainly will not risk my life for you.”
I clench my teeth as I glare back at her and try again. “Please, if he takes me as his mate, it will be without my consent.”
She just glares at me coldly.
“That is essentially rape,” I hiss at her.
She shrugs at me nonchalantly, as if it couldn't concern her at all. So much for women's solidarity.
“Is there anything else you require?” she asks me in a dry, bored tone, making it clear she'd rather eat nails than be in this room with me.
“No,” I hiss at her, still seething over the fact that this woman is not going to try to help me.Of course, she's not really a woman, I remind myself. She's a shifter. One ofthem. Nothing more than a beast.
She saunters through the door, closing it behind her and locking me back inside.
I stomp over to the food and pick up the plate. I consider tossing it against the wall. No doubt the smash of the plate shattering would make me feel better, but I pause with the plate halfway raised, reconsidering. If I want to have any hope of getting out of here alive, I'll need to keep my strength up. Refusing to eat is only punishing me—not Raoul. It's obvious I won't beat any of his streak with physical strength, so I'll have to outsmart them if I want to escape out of here.
I settle down at the table and barely taste the food as I shovel it into my mouth, still deep in thought.
I have to find a way out of this mess. I just have to.
ChapterFour
Mya
Raoul slamsthe door behind him. When he finally comes storming back through it at the end of the day, it's evening. It’s not completely dark out yet. The sky is dusky, signaling the going down of the sun. I've been staring out the window most of the day, deep in thought and watching the sun’s transition through the so I can somewhat tell the time since there's no clock in this room.
Raoul prowls over to me in that predatory way of his, his gaze pinned intently on me. “Do not attempt to solicit members of my staff to help you escape again.” His voice is a low growl, a warning, and I tilt my chin up and stare back at him defiantly.
Did he really expect me to just take this lying down and to not attempt escape? If he did, he's a fool. I don't say that though, figuring it's best not to bait the tiger too much at this point. “Let me go and we won't have that problem,” I counter back to him.
He tenses up, and I can’t help adding, “I will never submit to this.”
A roar finally tears up from his throat, and he pounces on me, pulling me up from the chair I'm sitting in and slamming my back against the wall. He towers over me, his golden eyes blazing down at me as he presses himself against me. I can feel the hardness of his chest, stomach, and arms—and I most especially feel that bulging part of him pressing insistently against me as well.
Although it makes my heart hammer against my ribs like a bird trying to beat free of its cage, I force myself to hold his gaze defiantly. He brushes his fingertips over the mark he left on my neck. Yeah, I saw the hickey right off when I went into the bathroom. He made sure to put it near the front of my neck where I can't cover it unless I keep my hair hanging in front of my shoulders all the time, which drives me crazy, and I'm sure that was the entire purpose of it—to make sure the mark is clearly visible at all times.
His eyes flare with heat as he stares at the mark. He brings his mouth close to my ear as he whispers, “You will submit to me, Mya.”
“Never,” I spit back.
His eyes flare with challenge. “Oh, yeah?”
Before I can even process his intention, he smashes his lips down onto mine. I gasp at the suddenness of his lips pressing against mine, and he takes advantage of my surprise, thrusting his tongue past my parted lips.
He kisses me voraciously, hungrily, like he's a man dying of thirst and I'm the holy water he needs for life. His arms band around my back, and I'm completely engulfed in him. His scent washes over me. It’s something clean and fresh and woodsy and masculine.