“You’re always just seconds away from being tossed into a situation that can get you killed.” His hand ghosts down the line of my jaw, and the intimacy of it is a clash of confliction. It’s a sweet caress. Until his fingers thread through my locks, and he grips me by the back of my neck. “Just like now,” he says.
And then I’m thrown through the door and into the light. My palms and knees hit hard on the uneven stones of the cold flooring. Memories of being pressed down against this floor flood my mind, and the tangled moments I spent with Leavon thrusting on top of me rushes vomit to burn across the back of my throat.
I let my dark hair hide my features. Fear of him finding me thrashes through me. The king takes his time to bring his attention to the woman spilled across his bedroom floor. His shining eyes lock with mine, and I know he’s about to call me out. The nights we spent together are slamming through his head right now. He’s about to murder me for coming back to him after all these years.
“What was your name again?” The jackass asks instead.
Oh. Come the fuck on!
“Bellatrix, My King,” I say instead with my head lowering hard to hide the rage in my eyes.
He ruined my fucking life and doesn’t even have the kindness to remember my fucking name?! He’s going straight to hell. Or where ever Sand Man Monsters like this fucker go when someone inevitably stabs a knife through his little sandpaper heart.
“Bellatrix, you have a roommate, Ivy. She is very important to this kingdom.” His bare feet brush over the floor with a lazy, scuffing sound, and the hammering of my heart is all I hear when he hunches down in front of me. Little particles of sand waft through the air as a long finger meets my chin and tips my face up at him. His hand slides into mine, and he lifts me to my feet, never once taking his gaze off of mine.
Pain and hurt sting through me at the simplicity of our closeness. We’re face-to-face but too many years and unforgivable sins separate us. It feels crushing. It feels like revulsion.
I fucking hate you! I hate you! I—
“Of course, my Lord,” I murmur.
“You’re pretty, Bellatrix,” he whispers to me, his hand skimming over the scar that lines my face and brushing down the column of my throat.
How could he forget the scar this fucking kingdom caused?
“Thank you,” I grind out with a hint of a smile. I lift my lashes once more and barely spot the look he passes to the man standing behind me.
He looks to the asshole I nearly forgot I loathed because of this new asshole I’m currently trapped in front of. It’s a surplus of assholes right now. No one needs this many. One is one too many.
“Are you... the curious type, Trix?” And just like that. With the simple use of the nickname he gave me, flashes of agony cut through me. Nights of tears and shame and fear and rage cover my body in a chill of terrible memories I thought I’d forgotten. It all suffocates me.
He raped me! And I had done so damn well to repress every touch he ever gave me.
Until now.
“W—what do you mean, My King?” I ask innocently. Because I know he likes that. He doesn’t like smart women. He doesn’t like women who ask too many important questions. He likes the ones who trust him fully.
He likes the ones he can use and abuse.
The warmth of his palm is heavy as it lowers down my throat, my collarbone, my breast.
My throat tightens.
“I can sate all of your curiosities, Trix.” The heat of his lips just beneath my ear burns water beneath my closed eyes.
I’m strong. I’m not that little girl anymore. I can do this.
I won’t give up the ruse. I won’t tap out. Because Ivy’s life is worth more than mine. And I’ll suffer his touch all over again to save her the misery.
Another press of a hand skims over my stomach, and my body reacts hard, my stomach knotting so much, I think I might vomit. When his chest brushes over my back, I meld into him. I sink into Synder’s body to flee Leavon’s.
And strangely... he lets me.
The king turns me like I’m a mop to be dragged across his floors, and I’m face-to-face with the man I’ve hated for the last two days.
But it doesn’t feel like hate in this moment. It feels like salvation.
He sees it in the lock of our eyes. My breath is too fast. It isn’t lustful, it’s fearful.