Page 56 of Addicted

“Rook may be my only heir, Lark, but my crown doesn’t have to go to my blood. Brings those boys in and Rook will get to wear it. Don’t and…”My sperm donor’s words from before I left all those weeks ago flash through my mind, leaving an empty feeling in my stomach.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to fucking do, Little Bird,” he whispers, and I can see in the slump of his shoulders that he understands before he hisses and lets go of my arm to storm away.

I can’t reply, as a moment later, the door swings open, and a man who I’d hoped to never see again walks in.

Fucking Earl.

I study him as he swaggers over to me, my heart racing enough to leave me drawing shallow breaths. His face is lined with age, placing him around fifty if I had to guess, a scarbisecting his left eye and making him look so much like a cartoon villain that I have to hold back a hysterical laugh, but it’s the cruel smirk on his thin lips that makes the sound die before it’s even had a chance to form. The sick delight in his eyes reminds me so much of my father’s men that I have to swallow bile.

“Hello, little songbird.”

My head whips to the side as sharp pain blooms along my cheek. I take a moment to realize that he’s just backhanded me. I hear shouts above the ringing in my ears, and feeling liquid dripping down my chin, I watch a drop of red spread on the concrete floor.

“Touch her again, Earl, and I’ll fucking cut off each of your hands while you watch,” Tarl snarls, and I turn back to see Earl surrounded by my guys a step or two away from me, Tarl nose to nose with him.

“My bad, boys.” Earl chuckles, the sound slithering across my skin like an oil spill. “I’ve always found the best way to get information is going in hard and fast.”

“Well, you’re here to observe,” Aeron interjects coolly, Tarl stepping back so Aeron can stand in front of the older man. I shiver at the ice in his tone. It’s like a frozen wasteland, ready to steal your last breath. “Leave this to us. Understood?”

I watch as something dark flickers in Earl’s beady eyes, his nostrils flaring as if he would challenge Aeron.

“Understood,” he replies after a few tense moments.

Aeron stares at him for a second longer, then gives a sharp nod, turning his back and dismissing Earl as if he were no one of importance. I watch as Earl’s fists clench, Aeron’s move pissing him off royally. Good, but Aeron best watch that one.

The heir to the Tailor throne turns his icy stare onto me, and it takes every ounce of strength I possess not to flinch.

“Tarl, the gurney.”

I hear Tarl walk past, his fingers brushing mine, and then the sound of wheels fills the space. I swallow, unable to look away from the swirling tundra of Aeron’s eyes.

“On the gurney, Dove.”

Taking a moment, I hold his gaze. Then, spinning around, I see a metal gurney behind me with thick, leather ankle and wrist straps dangling down its sides.

“It’ll go easier for you,Koshgelam, if you comply without a fuss,” Tarl tells me, his accent more pronounced than usual, his voice choked. He holds out a hand, like an old-fashioned gentleman would offer to a lady to help her into a car.

Not saying a word, I step towards him, taking his hand and pausing for a second to let its heat lend me strength. Using it, I move to sit up on the cold metal, a breath hissing from my parted lips as the chilly surface touches my bare ass.

“Could have warmed it up first,” I joke, but no one laughs, the silence of the room oppressive and heartbreaking.

Tarl helps me to lie back, then with a touch as gentle as if he were tucking me into bed, he buckles the strap around one wrist. Then my ankle, the other ankle, and finally, my other wrist.

“I truly am sorry for what is about to come,Eshgham,” he whispers, his mismatched eyes full of anguished sadness. I just nod, swallowing the lump in my throat, unable to say a word.

My head turns as Jude comes into view on my other side, his ocean eyes glistening. I watch as a single tear tracks down his stubbled cheek. He doesn’t wipe it away, instead; he places a cloth over my face, his fingertips brushing the side of my neck in a soft caress.

Tremors wrack my body, my concealed lips trembling as I hyperventilate.

“Begin,” Aeron’s impersonal voice says.

I take in a frightened breath, which proves to be the absolute worst fucking thing to do as my mouth and nose suddenly fillwith ice-cold water. Spluttering, I thrash against my binds, my lungs screaming as I cough and hack, trying to breathe.

Shit, this is so much worse than I expected. Sure, there’s no excruciating pain, but being unable to breathe, the cloth making any attempt futile, sends my body soaring into panic mode, which just makes me inhale more water.

Water fills my mouth and nose, and every attempted inhale feels like shards of glass as I also take in the water and drown on dry land. Just as spots dance across my vision, the stream stops, and the cloth is whipped away.

Turning my head to the side I vomit up watery bile and take huge, gasping breaths. Pain ripples across my head as someone grabs my hair, and my blurry vision fills with bottomless eyes, the color of the deepest parts of the ocean that no one comes back from.