Page 55

“Get.” I tell him when he sniffs close to where I’ve curled up.“Go.”

Despite Hunter saying Ares isn’t mean, dogs make me nervous. I’d grown up with them, thick and muscled, patrolling the grounds of the Manor–one more thing, I realize, to keep the inhabitants isolated from the outside world.

“Did you get sent in here to watch me?” I ask him. We feel even in this moment, nose to nose. His dark pupils ringed in a soulful yellow-brown.

The wing has fallen quiet, and I know they’ve left for class without me. Another failure. The brindled dog steps back and circles a few feet away, circling three times before dropping to the floor with a content sigh, on top of my dirty shirt, like he’s just here to keep me company.

If I sleep, this time there are no dreams.

“Oh, my.”

I blink out the cage at the pair of charcoal pant legs and dark dress shoes. Graves lifts his foot with asquick, the sound of hissole sticking to the floor. I wrap my arms around my knees and curl into a ball.

“I made a mess,” I say quietly.

“I see.” He walks away, and my heart skitters, terrified he’s leaving. But before I can call for him, he returns, tossing a towel over the drying pool on the floor. Then with a hard click, the gate swings open. “Can you get out on your own?”

I’d rather stay in here and hide forever. But I’m thirsty and hungry. Cold. He must sense my hesitation.

“Come out, Baroness. It’s time.”

It’s not a request, I can hear it in his voice. My muscles are stiff. I thrust out a leg and it slides through the cold urine, slicking up my calf. “Ugh,” I mutter, disgusted with myself, but I manage to get on my hands and knees and crawl out the way I came in.

My back screams as I straighten up, face level with his pelvis. A tremor runs through me, realizing that my release must come with conditions.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, ready to get it over with. “I can give you a blow job but I’m not sure I’m very good at it.”

“What?” Graves gawks at me. “God, no.”

He’s repulsed. Rightfully so. I realize then he has a second towel in his hand and he quickly helps me off the floor and wraps it around my body.

He moves past me into the bathroom, turning on the shower.

“Go ahead,” he gestures to the rushing water, “get yourself cleaned up.”

I clutch the towel to my chest, fighting the chill that has set into my bones.“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

He chuckles, but there’s a lack of meanness behind it. “Baroness, I’ve worked alongside the King for many years and have managed this house as well as the hundreds of frat boysthat have come through.” He nods toward the other room. The mess. “This is nothing.”

I’m not sure this is as reassuring as he thinks it is, but I drop the towel and step inside, submerging myself under the steaming water. I soap up my body, washing off the urine and any lingering cum from Hunter the night before. I let the water soak into my hair and then massage the shampoo into my scalp. I feel like I’m taking too long, but Graves doesn’t rush me.

The water is lukewarm when I turn the knobs. Two fresh towels are on the hooks right outside the door. I use one on my hair, wrapping it tightly. And the other on my body. When I step out, an outfit is on the dressing table. At first, I think Graves is gone, but I see his shadow in the thin strip under the door.

I hold up the black velvet dress. The material is body-hugging, with a heart-shaped top. The sleeves are made of lace, drapey and bell shaped, cinching at the wrist. A gentle lace fringe accentuates the edge of the skirt and along the bust. I slip it on and open the bathroom door.

“Much better,” Graves says, standing a few feet away holding a pair of patent leather lace-up boots with thick heels. “These should work.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, a sense of uneasiness building in my gut.

To my surprise he says, “I’m not your enemy, Arianette. None of us are.”

I glance over to the cage and the towel soaked in urine. “That’s not what it seems like.”

He nods toward the red velvet armchair, the one Hunter slept in last night. Smoothing out my skirt, I sit. Graves pulls a small stool from the other side of the fireplace, perches on the edge and begins unlacing the boot.

I comply when he gestures for my foot. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and as he eases it in the boot, he begins to speak.

“I’m here to make sure that the King is successful while ruling his territory.” His fingers loop into the laces, tugging them snug against my foot. “You are an important part of that success, which means you’re my priority.”