Page 53
Story: Barons of Decay
I jolt upright at the sound–at the voice–fearful of the looming figure at the foot of the bed.
“I said, where the fuck is it?!”
“Don’t hurt me,” I beg, confused and groggy, wondering how it found me.
The Beast.
“Don’t play dumb with me, little girl,” he snaps.
Trying to clear the cobwebs in my head, I pull on a thread, remembering that the last thing I did was wash Hunter’s cum off my body and crawl into bed.
“You were in my room.” He seethes, holding a small plate in front of my face. The cake I’d eaten after dinner–and forgotten–less than an inch from my nose. He slings his arm back, flinging it across the room, where it crashes into the stone fireplace and shatters to the hearth. “So tell me, sister, where the fuck is it?”
“Daddy?” I ask desperately, finally understanding that it’s not the Beast. Worse, the King is in my bedroom, angry and upset. Behind his mask his eyes flick to my bare breasts, then back to my face where I’m rubbing my eyes, trying to wake up. Trying to make sense of this. “I don’t know–”
“Don’t you fucking dare call me Daddy.” He lunges at me, clamping his hand around my wrist. “My children don’t steal from me. They don’t lie.”
“I didn’t do anything!” I shout, kicking out. “Let go!” But he doesn’t, wedging my thumb open with his bigger, stronger fingers. He yanks the ring off my thumb and holds it up.
“I’ve been lenient with you because of your age and history. Patient out ofobligation.I was even willing to overlook the fact you eliminated Armand because your Barons covered for you.” His voice trembles with barely contained rage. “I figured the story must be true, that he tried to taint you–”
“He did!”
“–But now I see that you’re a sneak. Athief.” His hand thrusts out, circling my neck, and he drags me from the bed, forcing me to stand. “It’s no stretch to assume you’re also a liar.”
“I didn’t lie! He shoved me to the ground! Ripped off my panties! He was going to rape me!”
“Maybe so, but you didn’t tell the truth did you?” His hand is massive and easily wraps around my throat. “You let them lie for you and take the blame. Well now, you will pay the consequences of your deceit.” He steps back, dragging me with him. “Open the cage.”
“W-what cage?” I ask, then see the two figures emerge from the dark corners of the room: Damon and Hunter. They look like they both were roused from bed. Hair disheveled, Damon is shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Hunter is in a thin T-shirt that clings to his broad chest, cotton pants cover his legs.
They must have been watching the entire time.
I hear rather than see a lever connect and an ornate door swings out from under the iron bed. Reality slams home. He wants to lock me in there. “Don’t–”
“Shut your lying mouth.” He steps close until our faces nearly touch. The tips of my nipples graze his chest, making them tighten into hard pebbles and sending a rush of pain-fueled heat through my body. “You will obey the rules of this house, sister. You willobeyme. And if you don’t, I will let my BaronsandShadows have you before sending you back to your uncle in disgrace.”
Panic claws at my throat and I beg, “Don’t send me back. I'll do whatever you want!”
Ignoring me, he gives the guys a quick nod and they descend on me, grabbing me by the arms and shoving me to the ground until I’m on my hands and knees. For once, I don’t fight. I can’t. Not if I want to stay. It comes as a surprise that the roughness of their touch is familiar now, expected. I crawl into the cage like an animal, knees aching. There’s no room to sit up, so I curl onto my side, the hard floor cold and biting against my bare skin.
“She’ll stay here until I am sure everything in my room is in order,” the King says. I can only see the bottom of their legs and feet. “And since you two decided to cover for her indiscretions, you get to sleep in here and keep watch, understood?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
As if they have a choice.
A moment later, the King’s shiny black shoes disappear from view, leaving the three of us alone. I hear a whistle and Ares’ soft footsteps enter the room, his wet, black nose sniffing around the edge of the cage. There’s no missing the irony that the true animal is outside the cage, while I’m locked inside.
“You want the bed or the chair?” Damon asks, breaking the quiet.
“The chair,” Hunter grunts, dropping back into the seat he occupied a few hours before. I can see his ankles, and Ares curled up on my discarded shirt. Above me, the bedsprings creak under Damon’s weight.
It’s not until the room is fully silent that I let the tears fall. It’s not the cold floor or the fact that I’m naked. I deserve this for being stupid, nosy, impulsive.
No, the real reason I’m upset is the knowledge that I’ve disappointed my King, and I have no idea how to fix it.
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