Page 10 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Sebastian

I watched her on her knees, Morris’s distress clear even without sound.

“Is there a reason you showed her to his cell?” I asked Langdon, who lounged against the wall of my office with a grin. I didn’t even need to look up to know his expression, Lang having a more peculiar taste for anarchy and chaos.

A sharp whistle forced my head up.

“She must be really interesting if you’re silencing me,” Lang signed, a rough sound escaping from his lips. “Is there a reason she’s on the pre-approved list?”

“That’s none of your business,” I commented in French.

“Yeah, fuck you, Bas,” Langdon replied before flipping me his middle finger.

A laugh caught in my chest, easing some of the tension that had been growing these past few weeks.

Another regular had just been found dead, likely an overdose, and it was starting to build whispers of a tainted batch.

Except my stuff was pristine, clean. Either manufacturing had made an error, which was unheard of, or someone has been fucking with my supply.

Either way, someone was going to pay for it .

“You need a fight,” Langdon signed after a pause, his hands slowing slightly when he realised I wasn’t giving him my full concentration.

I thought about it a moment, knowing releasing some of my pent-up aggression was probably a good idea. Nodding, I agreed. “Set it up.”

Langdon bowed dramatically, more at home in some royal court rather than as my enforcer. His flamboyant, flirtatious personality was a stark contrast to mine. But that was the point; people saw his pretty face and charm before they felt his dagger in their back.

Although Lang preferred to play with his prey a little beforehand, while I preferred getting to the point. My eyes dipped to the collar of his shirt, to the scars that you could only just see hidden beneath the fabric. Rather than fear the flames that had almost killed him, he embraced them.

Another whistle, and I looked up to find concern darkening Langdon’s eyes. “When did you last sleep?” he asked.

A buzz drew my attention back to my phone. Caden was escorting her this way, her bag held tightly in his fist. “I sleep enough.” A lie, but I wasn’t exactly feeling conversational with the man who held a parallel trauma.

Langdon and I were both kids when we were hurt, almost killed. Him by being trapped in my family’s home while it was set aflame, and me by the woman who’d lit the match.

Opening my desk drawer, I lifted the mask to my face, snapping it in place.

Only seconds later there was a knock, and Caden opened it up to sweep the girl inside.

She was hesitant, her eyes darting around, as if memorising everything about the room before finally settling on me.

I expected fear, maybe a little apprehension. Not stubborn determination.

She may look like a delicate little rabbit, but she had some steel in her spine that fascinated me. I almost smiled, but then I remembered she came with Graves, and that strange warmth in my chest chilled to ice.

“You have him in a cell,” she said, her tone acerbic.

I shrugged. “He owes me money.”

“How can you be so cruel? You’ve already taken everything else from him. At least let him have some dignity.” Her hands fisted, but she made no move to approach.

Cocking my head, I relaxed back in my chair. “Get our prisoner,” I directed to Langdon, purposely changing the language to put her on edge. Langdon left without argument, leaving Caden to lean against the wall where he once was.

“Well?” she continued, losing some of her confidence the longer I left her question unanswered.

I decided to make her a little more uncomfortable, taking my time to appraise her from head to toe. Her dress was a pale blue, fitted around the middle to flare out slightly at her hips in a tease. It finished at her knees, revealing her curvy legs and dainty feet.

When I finally dragged my eyes back up to her face, I found her skin had pinked beneath my scrutiny.

Good.

“Why are you here, belle ?” I asked, watching how the flush on her cheeks deepened even further at the nickname.

“It’s Ara.”

I allowed myself to smirk this time, but only because my mask hid it. I knew her name; Morris immediately gave me everything I wanted to know about his not-so-precious daughter.

“I’ve come for my father,” she said, her earlier bravado lessening. I was almost disappointed, craving more of a fight. Which was unusual for me considering I usually required full obedience. “Please, I’ll do anything. ”

“He’s my prisoner. What good will it do allowing a man who owes me so much free?” Both warning and amusement laced my tone. “I have a reputation to uphold, Miss Grey.”

She lifted her chin, a flash of resolve burning across her features. “He’s sick.”

“An addict,” Caden added, and Arabella’s head jerked to him with such renewed fervour that I had to suppress a demand for her to return her attention to me. It was irrational, but I wanted those pretty eyes of whisky and gold on me alone, and no one else.

“Please,” she said, her glare not matching the way she begged. We’d have to work on that. “There must be some way.”

“Do you have my money?” I was just teasing at this point. Of course she didn’t have the money, but I was enjoying watching her try and reason with a man with no morals.

“No… I can’t.” Ara paused, frustration simmering in the tense set of her jaw. “Surely there’s something else you want?”

I sat forward, her eyes widening a little when they darted to my mask even as I kept my voice disinterested. But there was nothing disinterested in the way my muscles tensed, or the electricity that charged the air.

“Be specific, Miss Grey. What exactly are you offering me?” My skin felt tight, anticipation thrumming through my veins at the possibility of having her.

Arabella swallowed, and I watched the delicate roll of her throat. “I–”

The door crashed open without warning, and Morris was thrown to his knees beside her. She immediately went to help him stand, only for him to shove her away.

“Ara, what are you doing?” Morris snarled, climbing to his feet unassisted. “I told you you’ll only make it worse!” Lifting his hand, he slapped her hard enough that the sound reverberated around my office.

Before I even realised I’d moved I was across the room, slamming Morris against the wall. A delicate gasp brushed my arm, Arabella reacting to the shock of violence. “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you where you stand,” I hissed, a dangerous edge bleeding into my tone.

Morris gulped, keeping his body pressed to the wall even as I stepped back. His eyes rounded further when he felt Langdon’s pistol pressed to the side of his skull. “Has she offered to take my place?” he whispered.

Arabella jerked as if she’d been electrocuted, her eyes rounded as she stared at her father. He hasn’t so much as looked in her direction.

“You think she’s worth what you owe me?” I asked, keeping my body slightly angled between them. Arabella was an overwhelming presence beside me, her spine and shoulders so stiff I was pretty sure she’d break something if she wasn’t careful.

Morris met my eyes, a sick hope filling his. It had only been a few days, and already he looked like shit. Which went perfectly with his personality.

Licking along his bottom lip, he nodded. “If she takes my place, will you let me go?”

Arabella said nothing, the handprint prominent on her cheek. Unlike the last time, she wore little makeup, her fair skin bare, with only the smallest amount of black highlighting her eyes.

I nodded to Lang, who forced Morris back onto the floor. “Hmm. Maybe she should be the one on her knees before me, rather than you?” I rested back on the lip of my desk, and even like this I was taller, bigger against her smaller frame .

“She’ll do anything you ask,” Morris said, still not looking at his daughter. “Won’t you, Ara?”

There was a beat of silence, her chest heaving with a staggered breath.

Finally, she said, “I’ll work to pay off his debt.” Her voice held a quiver that hadn’t been there before. But she didn’t look away from my gaze when I turned to her. Others would’ve cowered beneath my attention, and yet she refused to even blink. “I’ll take his place.”

Caden laughed, and even Langdon let out a little husky sound.

“Done.”

The laughter cut off, and my closest friends turned to me with a shared look of disbelief.

“You can’t be serious?” Caden asked in French, while Langdon’s hands moved too fast for me to read while my concentration remained on her.

“Go,” I told Morris, who didn’t have to be asked twice. He didn’t even spare his daughter a cursory glance, shooting out the door like there was a firework up his arse. I finally looked over at Langdon.

“I’ll make sure he leaves,” he signed, following him out.

Arabella waited in silence, standing there with nothing but fisted hands and rigid shoulders.

“Make sure Graves doesn’t make a scene,” I directed to Caden, purposely changing to French once more.

Wouldn’t want Arabella to get too comfortable in her situation.

She was my new toy, after all.

Caden seemed to hesitate, his brows pulled low before he finally left, closing the door behind him. I waited, Arabella coiled so tight with tension that I wondered if she was ready to snap.

I watched her for a moment, memorising each ragged breath. “Get on your knees.”