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“Bring her here. Now,” he commands, and there’s no point in resisting. Gwyn begins to shake as I lead her up the stairs, and I order her to be calm. After undermining me in front of the coven, I don’t want to give my father the satisfaction he will get in intimidating her.

“Björn,” my father says, introducing himself with an outstretched hand. She takes it before I can stop her, probably goaded by a non-verbal command, and he pulls her flush against his chest. The possessive part of me unleashes, and I try to pull her away before I realize Björn will rip her apart if he wants to. His loud growl reverberates, and I back off.

He bends over her, pulling her head back so far she’s likely to fall. She screams as he pounces, his head dipping forward as he pierces the soft flesh of her neck. She goes limp in his arms, and I notice he bites over my claiming marks. It takes everything in me to stand still. He did it on purpose, and I am enraged.

The sounds he makes start as small sighs, but they grow more lewd as he continues to pull blood from her veins into his mouth. I know exactly how he is feeling, and it makes me sick.

“Björn!” I finally lose my shit, yelling at him as she turns pale. Her fingertips brush the ground, and her eyes have fluttered shut. Björn growls at me, irritated, and finally pulls away from her neck with gasping breaths. When she twists in his grasp, he lets her drop to the marble floor.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, hoping he didn’t hurt her too badly. She won’t be able to help me if she has a brain injury.

“Do not seek her out,” he yells to the people still waiting below. “But if my son leaves his pet unattended, I won’t prohibit you from supping on the finest blood this coven has tasted in the last thirty years.”

I clench my fist, walking past her even though I want to make sure she’s okay. It will only be seen as weakness from everyone in the room.

“Couldn’t resist undermining me, could you?” I demand, as quiet as I can.

“We have much to discuss, Roman.”

* * *

“Come.”I’m so fucking irritated, I don’t bother looking at Gwyn as I walk past, adjusting the collar of my suit. I nod to Margot, grateful she watched her while I met with Björn. He knew what he was doing in separating me from her, but my friend was on top of it.

“You were in sweatpants,” Gwyn says dully from the ground beside my father’s office. “Did Daddy make you change?”

Her sass takes me off guard, relieving the tension from the meeting I just had with him. I stare at her for a second, but the scent of her blood is stronger than it ought to be. Pulling her up and moving behind her, I tug her ponytail loose and find the split skin on the back of her head. I swipe at the blood with my fingertip.

“Ow, that hurts!” She winces, pulling away from me.

“You’re bleeding.” I stick my finger in my mouth and suck off her blood, wetting it with my healing saliva, before I slide it over the cut.

“I’ve been bleeding since youattackedme at the swamp, you dumbfuck.”

I huff a laugh, turning her down one hallway after another as Margot follows behind us.

“Was I too rough for you, sweetheart? I thought you liked it that way.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re a pig.”

The lustrous designs of the common area of the compound give way to a cold industrial stairwell as I push open the heavy metal door leading down to where Gwyn’s cell is. Margot leads the way, using her abilities to speed ahead of us. I can’t help myself as I oink in Gwyn’s ear, pushing her forward.

The steel door closes behind us, and I dismiss the foreboding feeling I get. Agnarr rests deep below the cells, and I remember how much it unnerved me when Remy stayed here.

“What’s down here?” Gwyn asks, voice trembling. I wonder if she can sense him as I can.

“Among other things? Your cell.Go.”

She moves with my influence, clearly not wanting to obey.

“What are the other things?” She plants each foot forcefully, carefully, as we circle down the stairwell.

“Things that would make your escape very painful. I’ll tell you that right now.”

A loud crash from below startles her, and she jumps. Within a second, someone is on her, and I’m yanking their head back, trying to pull them free from her throat without ripping her neck open. She screams but her body still moves forwards, my influence forcing her feet to move.