Page 29 of Barons of Decay (Royals of Forsyth University #10)

A rianette

Bang!

“Where is it?”

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 of obligation. 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. A thief. ” 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 will obey me. And if you don’t, I will let my Barons and Shadows 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.

“Quiet, Arianette, be a good girl.”

I’m standing by the edge of the stage in my leotard and tights. There’s an audience tonight. They’re enthralled by the boy on stage, how mature he looks in his blue suit, how cleverly his fingers move over the chords. I’m nervous, my stomach aches. I tug at the sleeve of my uncle’s jacket.

“Shhh!” he snaps. I haven’t even said anything.

There are two different rows of children. One for performers. One for the others. I’m jealous of the girls’ dresses. Of their styled hair and the makeup on their eyes and mouth. I glance down at my scuffed ballet shoes and once again feel that fullness–the ache.

“Uncle,” I whisper, not wanting to interrupt the boy on stage. I shift on my feet, fingers pressing between my legs. “I need to go–”

My eyes snap open, bladder screaming, swollen and achy from the urgent need to urinate.

I move to toss my legs over the edge of the bed, to stand, but my knees slam into hard metal and my head crashes above.

“Ow,” I yelp, slowly becoming aware that I’m still in the cage.

Also aware that I need to pee–really fucking bad.

“Let me out.” I rattle the cage. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Quiet,” Hunter mumbles. Ares has moved his nose next to an opening in the iron, giving me a long sniff.

“Quiet, Arianette, be a good girl.”

That night is burned into my psyche, the excitement of finally getting to perform. The hope that I’d win approval, show that I’m worthy. Useful.

I shudder at the memory, which doesn’t help the urge forcing me to clench my legs together. I whine, “I need to go to the bathroom. For real.”

“You’re in there until the King says otherwise,” Damon says, feet coming into view as they hit the floor and he stands up. “Fuck, that bed is comfortable.”

“Can’t say the same about the chair,” Hunter grumbles. A moment later he also stands, and I watch their bare feet just outside my cage. “Ares, komm.”

“Where are you taking him?” Damon asks, standing. I crane my neck, trying to get a better view, but all I see is him shoving his hands down the front of his shorts to scratch his balls.

“Outside.”

“You’re taking the dog outside to pee, but you won’t let me?” I shout, rubbing my hand down my back. It aches from sleeping on the floor, just like the rest of my body.

“Ares didn’t sneak into the King’s room and steal his shit,” he throws out, before heading out the door with the dog.

Damon squats, making himself eye level with me.

“Please,” I beg him. “I’ll come right back in.”

“Sorry, Baroness. I already fucked up by covering for you once. I’m not doing it a second time.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.” I squirm, twisting. I think of the things I know he likes. “You can pierce me. I’ll touch you. Lick you.” My mind scrambles. “You can do it in public.”

“Is it that big of a deal if you piss on yourself?” His eyes narrow, watching me.

“You’re literally locked up in a cage. Like an animal.

Well, worse than an animal.” He snorts, obviously thinking about Ares, who slept comfortably at his owner’s feet.

“You fucked around and found out, sister, now you reap the consequences.”

He rises and moves out of view. It is a big deal. Good girls don’t make messes. They’re quiet. They’re unseen. I’ve broken every one of those rules since I’ve been here and like Damon said, I fucked up.

I killed Armand because he was a traitor, but no one knows that.

“Let me out!” I scream, slipping my fingers through the grate.

I jerk and shake the stiff, cold metal, but it doesn’t budge.

Breathing hard, I freeze when I hear the hard flow of water–no, not water–it's the steady stream of Damon relieving himself in my bathroom. The sound triggers my bladder, a spasm running down my body. Squeezing my eyes, I use every ounce of will to hold it in, but I know the second before it happens that I’ve lost control.

A moment later, warm liquid floods out. “No,” I sob, the urine spreading.

“No.” It seeps out from under the iron onto the floor.

“ No, no, no, no…” The wail is both foreign and familiar.

Humiliating and raging. I’m angry with myself.

Angry for being so weak and stupid and bad .

I kick the end of the bed, busting my toe. “Ahh! Fuck!”

The toilet flushes and he returns, making a show about not stepping in the mess. “Gross,” he says, his face out of range.“Filthy.”

“Fuck you!” I shout, hating him. Hating myself. With a disgusted noise, he leaves, and I let the shame wash over me. Neither Damon nor Hunter are going to release me. The King will find out. They’ll all know. I’m dirty and bad.

Just like my uncle always said.

I’ve just found a dry spot at the top corner of the bed when the pad of soft footsteps enters the room. A series of snorts and sniffs follow, the dog's black nose edging around the wet pool, although never stepping into it. Even he doesn’t want to get soiled.