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“Aww, come here, mea principessa.” Nate curls his finger at me.
I shake my head, stepping backward. My eyes drop to his naked chest where the robe ties at his collar.
He tilts his head, amused. “You can’t run from us, Tillie. You know that.”
The girl yells again. “Please help me! Please!”
I step back again but slam into a rock-hard chest. I scream, spinning around just as a hand comes to my mouth and squeezes. I see the tattoos on his neck and know it’s Brantley. Madison is crazy, these guys are not scary. The word scary does not even touch the level of darkness that they exude. They’re villainous degenerates. They dig their claws into you without using their touch and suck the life from your soul.
“Shut the fuck up, Tillie, and do as you’re told.” He spins me around to face everyone, thrusting his cock into my ass to push me forward. He brings his lips to my ear. “You wanted to play with the big boys, baby, so let’s play.” His grip tightens around my mouth. “Do you know who that girl is in there?”
“Shhhh,” Hunter chuckles from beside Nate. “Don’t spoil it.”
My eyes go straight to the girl, the flames from the fire now licking its heat over my skin. I don’t recognize her. Should I?
Nate still hasn’t said anything, he’s just watching me carefully. My eyes fly around the area. Behind the cage is a large pickup truck, Ford Raptor, I think, with its tailgate down. There are giant logs lined around the fire to offer as seating.
“What is going on?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“Tillie,” a soft whisper comes from the cage. “She’s here, isn’t she?” the girl yells. “Let me out! Please let me out!”
I crank my head toward the girl, anxiety splitting me open. “How do you know who I am?”
Nate stands in the way, forcing me to stop my analysis of the young girl.
“I know you, I know you! I know you. Fuuuccckkkk!” The girl’s screams are raucously desperate.
Nate’s hand comes to my face, just when I think it’s going to be a gentle gesture, he squeezes my cheeks. His shoulders straighten, and I watch as his lip curls and his teeth are bared. I know this pose, I’ve seen it many times. It’s like a whole other side of Nate comes to the surface. It terrifies me in all the ways it should terrify me. This is the side of him that makes him second in command as a King. This is why he’s Bishop’s right-hand man.
“Sit. Down,” he orders through a growl that’s soft enough to squeeze. “Your final warning, Tillie.”
I take a step back and drop onto a log. My eyes keep going back to the caged girl, but before I can ask anything else, laughing starts to emerge through the forest. There’s another group of young people. All in the same face paint. Their laughs stop when they see me. Their eyes go to The Kings. My kings.
“Wow,” one chuckles, shaking his head. “You actually brought a Stuprum to a meet?” His eyes go to who I’m guessing is Bishop. “Your pops know about this?” I feel outnumbered. There are two girls, and one is locked in a cage. The rest are guys, some I don’t even know. Not that it matters, because the ones I do know are scarier than any man I’ve ever met. I want to ask Bishop where Madison is, but I find my mouth glued shut, sealed by fear. Possibly.
“You can’t do this to me,” the girl shouts through her weeping. “I’m—you can’t!”
“What is going on?” I glare at Nate.
One of the new guys laughs, taking a seat beside me. “She’s a swan. Obviously.”
“So?” I snap, my annoyance growing balls. “Madison broke all of that bullshit.”
“Except…” The guy leans in, his lips coming to my ear.
Nate growls. “Watch your proximity, young pup, or I’ll tear your lips from your face.”
The boy backs away slightly, but still close enough to be able to whisper. “Some parents are fucked up, Tillie, and hers, are the worst.”
“How?” My eyes search his. Since I’m getting answers from him, I’m going to milk it. “How are hers the worst?”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes dropping to my lips. It’s then that I realize who this boy is. It’s the guy from earlier. Lenny? Lennox? I’ve already forgotten. “She’s a Vitiosis.”
“And?” I wait for the ball to drop, but instead, Nate steps in and intercepts it.
Yanking me up by my hand, he turns me around to face the girl, his hand traveling around my stomach. He uses his other to wrap my hair in his fist and tilts my head to the side. “Look at her, baby,” he whispers softly against the side of my neck. “Look at her. She’s all hopeless and at our disposal. She’s the next known swan but only two years younger than Madison, so do you know what that means? Hmmm?”