Page 16

CHAPTER 15

This was expected. I figured Callan would be livid once he found out I lost the rock, or had it taken, rather.

Now, all I can do is brace for the impact because Aidric doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to offer olive branches. In fact, he looks like he’s ready to burn the whole fucking tree down.

“Tell ’em,” Callan grumbles in frustration, shoving me forward. “Tell them what you just told me.”

There’s really no point in dragging this out, so I steel my shoulders as Callan’s hand drops from the back of my neck. Lifting my chin, I lay it all out there.

“I had the rock, and now I don’t.”

The words barely leave my mouth before Aidric is seething right in front of me, our bodies not even an inch apart while his height casts me in his shadow. His chest is taut, shoulders strained, and the veins in his neck are pulsing.

Jesus. These guys are intense.

Sebastian is right there beside him with a firm stance and his jaw locked so tight it looks like it might shatter.

"What the hell do you mean you had it and now you don’t?" Sebastian grits out.

"Ugh, exactly what I said." Sarcasm drips from my tone because if they want to take me down, I sure as hell won’t be going quietly.

Aidric sucks in a deep breath, fingers raking through his hair as he paces like he’s trying to keep himself from snapping. I can see his hands shaking, rage pouring off him in waves.

Callan just stands there, idly like a little bitch—watching and waiting, but doing nothing useful.

All the while, Sebastian is showing he might actually have some balls, after all. So far, I had him pegged as the quiet one of the group, but apparently Aidric gets that title because he still has yet to say a word.

Great, he’s silent and deadly. Perfect combination for a serial killer.

Sebastian levels me with a glare, clearly trying to communicate that my attitude isn’t something he wants to deal with at the moment. Well, too fucking bad, because they are the last thing I wanted to deal with, ever.

I roll my eyes at him, but before I can cross my arms in front of me in defiance, he grabs my wrist and hauls me into him, his grip punishing before his other hand goes to my hip, fingers grazing just under my sweatshirt. His sinister eyes bore into mine as he leans into my space, his breath hot against my face and jaw clenched so tightly I think I actually hear the grinding of his teeth.

"Where the fuck is it?"

With a no-nonsense attitude, I tell them the truth. “The detective on Evan’s case took it.” I pause, letting the words sink in while I watch the fire in his eyes come to life. “That's right. Detective Klein came to my dorm last night and questioned me. He saw the rock, and he took it.”

Worry crosses his features and I can’t help my curiosity any longer. I’m already part of this, I might as well know the whole truth at this point. “Care to tell me why he might want it?”

Callan’s eyes lock on to mine as he steps up to me, his nostrils flared, but Sebastian puts an arm out, blocking his path.

“You can have her when I’m done with her,” Sebastian mutters, eyes never leaving mine.

Sebastian’s grip on me tightens, and I know for a fact that my hip will be wearing bruises from his fingers tomorrow. Just when I’m about to cry out in pain, unable to take any more of the pressure, he releases me with a shove, making me stumble as he throws his head back, and roars, “Fuck!”

Aidric has distanced himself from me, as if he’s afraid to be too close. He’s sitting against the far wall, nearly blending in with the shadows. But I can see him, breaths heavy with fury, and fingers clenched tightly into a fist as if he’s restraining himself.

I expect him to march over to me and seethe in my face. But he stays where he is, making the tension in the room feel as if it might boil over. I’m not sure if it’s a power move, but both times I’ve been down here, he’s been quiet. I’d call it a coincidence, but something tells me it’s not.

I should be afraid of him, of all of them. But that’s the thing, I know I have some of the power now. And if their reactions are anything to go by, I’d say they are treading carefully.

“You better be fucking joking, Avery,” Callan hisses. “Tell us you’re fucking joking.”

I tilt my head, a knowing smirk tugging at my lips, all sass and zero fucks given.

“Nope,” I quip. “Not joking. Seems you three have a mess on your hands.”

Callan jabs a finger into my breastbone, hard and unforgiving. “A mess you’re gonna clean up.”

"And what exactly do you expect me to do?" I scoff, crossing my arms as I dare them to say it out loud. "Break into the evidence room and steal the fucking rock?"

Sebastian doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t even blink. “If that’s what it takes.”

They act like it’s my problem to fix. Like they have no issue throwing me headfirst into a suicide mission just to save their asses.

The truth is, I don’t think Klein took that rock as evidence in Evan’s case. I think he took it because he knows exactly who it belongs to.

Klein isn’t just piecing together what happened to Evan—he’s building something bigger. Something that I’d bet has everything to do with these guys and this stupid little cult they have going on.

That rock could be a key piece of whatever the hell he’s working on. I mean, the number eight carved into it has to mean something. If this is the eighth, then that could mean there were seven before it.

I let the tension sit, allowing them to feel the weight of their own predicament before I tilt my head and smirk.

"Or," I start, voice smooth as I tap a finger on my chin. "I could forgo the risk of prison time for stealing evidence and just tell the detective everything I know."

I watch their reactions, feeding off the shift in energy as I continue. "Sure, I might get slapped with a misdemeanor charge for tampering with evidence. But at least you guys go down way harder than I do. Doesn’t that sound like a better deal?"

Before I can take a single breath, Sebastian grabs me by the arm, yanking me forward until my chest collides with his. His cheeks flush a dangerous shade of fire-red, veins straining beneath his skin as his teeth grind. “We could just end it all right here and now.”

"Do it." My breath fans against his skin and I grin as I call his bluff. "Kill me. I dare you."

Just like that, I’m thrust back and out of his reach. Shaking my head, I exhale a mocking breath before adjusting my stance.

"That’s what I thought," I mutter, just loud enough for him to hear.

Sebastian tsks, rolling his shoulders, but his eyes stay glued to me. "Something’s up with her," he muses, head tilting slightly. "She’s not usually this feisty."

“She is,” Callan retorts. “She puts on a good show, pretending to be tough and untouchable, but slowly, the cracks begin to surface just before she breaks completely. And I must admit, she looks so pretty when she’s broken.”

I scoff, folding my arms while my glare slices straight through him. "You don’t even fucking know me.”

"I know enough." Callan smirks, leaning in, his breath hot against my ear. His voice drops to a whisper. "Starting with how it feels to be buried deep inside that pussy. Fingers, too."

My stomach turns, a wave of disgust rolling through me. I let out an exasperated breath before howling in laughter, throwing my head back just to make a point. "So we fucked, and I told you to kick rocks," I sneer. "Get over it already."

The guys exchange looks, a flicker of surprise written all over their faces.

"Oh, you guys didn’t know?" I flash a wicked grin at Callan. “Your buddy here got a bruised ego after we slept together, so he made it his mission to make me miserable for years. Our rivalry is nothing new.”

I watch the weight of my words settle into their thick skulls. They might’ve believed Callan was just a passenger in their twisted game, but they didn't know he was a front seat rider.

“Bruised ego?” Callan growls. “I’d hardly call it that. I fucked you and that was that. You’re the one who showed up where you weren’t wanted, and look where it landed you…right back in the palm of my hand so I can toy with you even more.”

Callan wraps an arm around my waist before turning me so that I’m facing Sebastian while he whispers in my ear, his hand slowly moving down my stomach. “Did you miss me so much that you had to come back for another round? Tell me, Little Devil, do you like it when I make you squirm?”

His hand moves down farther, just over the hem of my loose joggers. “Just like the way I did in front of your boy Evan while he was comatose. Back then I used my words to bring you to your knees, but in that hospital room, it was my fingers in your pussy that had you begging for mercy.”

"Well, well, well," Sebastian drawls, crowding in front of me while Callan’s fingers continue their torment of playing with the top of my pants. Refusing to let him get a reaction out of me, I remain perfectly still.

A sinister smirk stretches across Sebastian's face. "I think it’s only fair that if you got to fuck her, then we do too."

My blood runs cold. "Over my dead body," I snap, my limbs tensing, ready for a fight. Surprisingly, Callan pulls me more into him, almost protectively. Nothing in me takes comfort in that action, but it does catch me off guard. Then again, he could just be a jealous asshole.

Sebastian doesn’t even flinch, his smirk only widens. "That works too," he murmurs. "Less attitude from you that way."

Aidric bites back a laugh, but there’s no humor in his expression. If anything, I have a feeling that he’s imagining Sebastian fucking my corpse. No doubt that’s exactly the kind of depravity his twisted mind would conjure up.

I glare at them, my stomach churning with disgust. "You guys are fucking sick."

" That we are," Sebastian says, his eyes dark with amusement. "Now, unless you want to make that a reality, I suggest you get us our rock, or you bend over and let us take turns with you.Either way, it’s your ass on the line."

Nausea coils in my gut, but I push past it and shove out of Callan’s hold. I take a step forward, closing the space between us, my jaw clenched. "No, asshole," I snap, eyes locked on his. "It’s our asses on the line. I’ve accepted that. And it’s time you all accept it too."

"We…" Sebastian waves a hand between the two of us. "Are not a team. We don’t work with outsiders; we punish them for sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

I shrug, unfazed. "Maybe that’s how it was before me. But I’m here now.” I take a step forward, my gaze locked on Sebastian. “And this isn’t just about me going down anymore, it’s about all of us getting actual fucking jail time with an attempted murder charge hanging over our heads. So I think it’s high time we figure this shit out together. If one of us falls, we all fucking fall.”

"She’s right," Callan cuts in. "As long as she buried that box like she says she did, we have enough leverage to ensure her silence." His gaze flicks between them. "Now, it’s time we use her to our advantage."

A slow, dangerous smirk tugs at Sebastian’s lips, sending a trickle of fear running down my spine.

I scoff. "Not exactly what I had in mind, Callan."

"Like it or not, that’s the way it is." Callan shrugs, his tone casual. So we’ll let you go for now." He pauses, eyes locked on to mine. "But you need to find a way to get that rock back."

I cross my arms, tilting my head and silently considering his offer.

"I’ll do my best." I let the words hang for a beat before adding, "Under one condition."

Callan’s jaw tics, but he doesn’t interrupt.

"Tell me why it’s so important." I meet his sharp gaze. "I need to know before I can give a damn."

The guys exchange another loaded look, before Callan says, “Let’s just say that it will lead that detective straight to the box you burned—straight to you.”

My stomach drops. Shit. That thought never crossed my mind.

"But how?" I ask, panic creeping in.

Sebastian steps forward, closing the space between us. "Because those instructions I gave you?" He pauses, smirking. "They weren’t the only copy. They were a miniscule part of a much bigger—for lack of a better term—treasure map, if you will.”

I’m not exactly following, but the way he’s explaining this makes me think I should be scared. Yet, I’m not. I’m just picturing a bunch of hockey players searching for treasure. Though, I don't think that's anywhere close to what he’s saying.

"If I had to guess," Sebastian continues, "you said Detective Klein took it, yeah?”

I nod.

“Well, he’s been on our tail far longer than he’d ever admit. Go ahead and let him keep the rock. Just know that means he has evidence linking you to a crime."

My throat tightens as the realization settles over me. He’s right. I did have the rock and if it somehow leads Klein to the box in the woods, that tongue will be traced back to me. Or rather, the ashes of it could.

But whose tongue is it?

That’s a case for another day. Right now, I have to deal with the current situation.

Sebastian’s smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “That number is now ingrained in his memory, right alongside a picture of your face. Doesn’t matter if you get it back or not." His eyes glint with darkness. "He knows."

"Then why do you guys want it back?" I choke out, my throat tight as the weight of his words are damn near strangling me.

"Because," he drawls, stepping even closer, his breath warm against my skin. "It’s not just a rock, Little Devil." His fingers twitch at his sides like he’s itching to grab me, to make me understand. "We want it back because it’s symbolic of something much bigger than hockey, much bigger than this house, and much bigger than this chamber. It’s a marker. A piece of a legacy you don’t belong to, but now, thanks to your little mishap, you’re tied to it forever.

Chills dance down my spine, and for the first time this evening, I’m scared. Really fucking scared. Not of them, but of the outcome of this entire situation. It’s gonna unravel. I have a bad feeling we’re all going down.

It’s official. I’m theirs now—a peasant to the Lords, their own personal plaything. While I hold a little power here, it isn’t much anymore. No matter what, I’m now part of this twisted game.

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "You guys did me dirty." My voice is thick as the cracks begin to surface, just like Callan said they would. It’s embarrassing how quickly it happened too. "You did me so fucking dirty."

Callan doesn’t even flinch. "We did what we had to do," he says, cool and detached, like this was always the inevitable outcome.

My fists clench, nails digging into my palms as my voice drops lower. "And what now?" My gaze flicks between them, my pulse hammering in my ears. "When does it end ?"

A long beat of silence stretches between us before Sebastian delivers the final blow. “It doesn’t. That’s the beauty of what we’ve built here. It never ends.”

The words slam into me, stealing the last shred of hope I had left.

Aidric and Sebastian exchange a silent look, and when Aidric gives the slightest tilt of his chin, a fresh wave of chills runs down my spine.

“Cromwell,” Sebastian says, his voice shallow, but rough. “Do me a favor and go grab my phone.”

Callan scoffs, annoyed. “Where the hell is it? It’s normally glued to your fucking hand.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Not really sure. But I’ve got no doubt you’ll figure it out.”

Callan grits his teeth, muttering something under his breath as he turns and disappears up the stairs. And just like that, I’m alone with the two men even more unhinged than the one who just left.

I swallow hard, my gaze flicking between them as slow-building smirks spread across their faces.

“What?” I mutter, backing a step instinctively. As much as I know I shouldn’t show any fear to a predator, the chill in here is starting to bleed into my bones. Something about this room makes them appear even more dangerous than when we are upstairs. Up there, they are just two dudes who play hockey; down here, they are monsters born of nightmares.

“What’s with you two?” My voice shakes no matter how hard I try to remain strong. There may be cracks in my armor, but I refuse to shatter.

Aidric jerks his chin toward the far side of the room. Before I can piece together what it means, a hand clamps around my arm and I’m suddenly being dragged in that direction, my heart slamming against my ribs.

“Seriously,” I scoff, “enough with the manhandling. It’s getting real fucking old.”

But my words die in the air because in the next breath, I’m being hauled toward the altar.

Everything inside me locks up, fear coiling tight in my gut the closer I am dragged toward what looks like a torture bench. Callan told them that I was feisty, so I prove it with every ounce of might I possess. I fight, digging the nails of my free hand into Sebastian's wrists in an attempt to break free. A string of curses leaves his lips, but his fingers only tighten around me.

I yank, shove at his shoulders, twist—my body bending in ways I didn’t know it could. My foot kicks out, trying to get him in the back of the knee, but he dodges it just in time, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“Fight me all you want. It only makes me hard.”

He presses my hand to the top of his jeans and I try to pull away, the bulge clear as I am forced to touch him. My eyes narrow and I flatten my palm, ready to crush his balls, but he must sense my movement coming because he lifts my fingers away while tsking in my face.

“Such a naughty girl. You might need to learn some manners.”

“Fuck you,” I spit, seething. If I let the anger take over then my fear is shoved to the side. So I give in to it and continue to fight. But it’s useless. Aidric moves in to help, and between the two of them, resistance is nothing but wasted energy.

Aidric grips my other wrist and lifts my arm. The clanking of chains fills the room, slicing through the air just before cool metal replaces his even colder touch.

The cuff snaps shut around my wrist with a finality that vibrates through my bones.

“Stop it!” I scream, my voice cracking as it rips from my throat.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I thrash harder, yanking against the chains, my muscles feeling like they’ve been set on fire as my hands groan in pain, digging into solid metal.

“The harder you fight, the harder you’ll fall,” Sebastian says as he repeats the action on my other wrist. The moment his clasp clicks into place, reality slams into me.

I’m chained.

A prisoner to their twisted games in this dark chamber. I might not have a choice here, but I do get to decide whose side I’m on in the end. They want to see me fall at their feet, so I’ll fall. But when I get back up, they better be ready to face the fury of a woman scorned, and I think we all know how those stories end.

Suddenly, a podium slams into my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs and sending my thoughts scattering. I'm forced to hang over it, straining against the chains that hold me in place as determination fills me. I’ll prove to them that I am not someone to be tested.

Sebastian crouches in front of me, a sinister grin carved deep into his face. His eyes lock on to mine, burning with something so twisted, it steals the breath right from my lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he croons, voice dripping with menace. “Looks like Callan’s going a little soft. Care to tell me why?”

I don’t flinch. I spit, hitting him square in the face. “Fuck you.”

He chuckles, low, amused as he drags two fingers down his damp cheek, wiping away the spit. Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, he slips those fingers into his mouth.

My stomach churns, but his grin only grows wider.

“Bad move, Little Lamb.”

I scoff, eyes narrowing. “Oh, now it’s Little Lamb ? What happened to Little Devil?”

“Little Lamb feels more fitting, considering you’ll be our sacrifice for the next…” He taps the face of his watch. “…ten minutes or so, while your boy tears the place apart looking for my phone.”

I don’t need to see Aidric to know he’s behind me. His presence creeps in like a cold front. Suddenly, rough fingers brush against the waistband of my sweatpants, causing a shiver to run through me.

I kick back, warning him. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Sebastian laughs. “That’s not fair. See, we figure if Callan got a piece of you…” He leans in, voice dropping to something more dangerous. “…it’s only fair we get one, too. We are brothers who share, after all.”

I growl, lips curled in disgust. “You’re disgusting. Every last one of you.”

Sebastian tilts his head, unfazed. “Disgusting or not, we own you now. Besides, we all know getting dirty just makes it that much better.”

He stands slowly, takes a few steps to the left, then returns with something shiny and silver in his hand.

“See this?” he asks, that wicked grin still etched on his face. “This is one of my favorite toys…aside from you.”

When he brings it into view, I realize what it is. A wheel of spiked needles that’s used for pleasure, pain, or both. I’ve seen one before, but never in person.

He tsks, slow and mocking. “Scared yet, Little Lamb?”

I lift my chin, defiance burning in my eyes. Pain isn’t something that scares me, lack of control is. So if he thinks waving his fancy toy in my face is going to make me cry, he has another think coming.

“Bring it on, asshole,” I seethe. My voice holds steady, but hot unrelenting fury boils beneath it. I’m done playing their game. They want to see me break. They want my tears. But I won’t give them that satisfaction.

A low rumble vibrates behind me. Then I feel the tug at my waistband as Aidric slowly slides my sweatpants down. His fingers slip beneath the hem of my panties, making my breath hitch as they lift from my skin. Then he lets go, snapping them back into place. I flinch, and before I can stop myself, a muffled sound escapes my lips.

He’s chasing a reaction. They both are. And I just gave them exactly what they wanted.

I turn my head slightly to try and steal a glance at Aidric, but Sebastian’s hand snaps to my cheek, guiding my gaze back to his.

“Pay him no attention,” he croons, voice smooth and unsettling. “You might feel him, but you won’t hear him.”

“Why?” I gasp, the word slipping out on a breathy tremor.

A devious glint sparks in his eyes as he drags the pinwheel slowly down the curve of my cheek. “Because that,” he whispers, “is his power-move down here. He doesn’t waste energy on words unless it’s necessary. I speak for him. And right now?” He leans in just a little closer. “I think he’d tell you to stop talking.”

His fingers clamp around my chin, forcing my head up. His touch is cruelly gentle, like he’s savoring the control he has.

I guess the only way they feel powerful is to chain me up. Fucking pussies. I dare them to take me on without chains holding me back.

The pinwheel grazes my throat in a slow drag. Each tiny needle whispering across my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It’s strangely thrilling, and likely not the reaction he’d hoped for.

I hold my head high, the scowl on my face never dropping.

They can strip my clothes, but they won’t strip me of my defiance.

Aidric’s fingers glide slowly between my ass cheeks, and something unexpected stirs inside me—a mix of threat and twisted excitement. I find myself clenching my muscles as they’re all zapped to life.

I don’t know whether I should fight, scream, or enjoy it. Maybe all three. If I let the pleasure distract me, then they can’t use this moment to control or manipulate me—not if I willingly hand it over.

Sebastian hums, still trolling the pinwheel down my body, awakening every nerve like fire licking across my skin. “How about a safe word for this little punishment, Little Lamb?” he murmurs, his voice smooth but wrapped in venom.

I scoff, lifting my head with fire in my eyes. “First of all, I’m a lion, not some weak lamb. Unclasp my arms and I’ll rip both of your fucking heads off as proof.”

His smirk twitches, but I don’t stop. It’s clear that he wants to use his words to make me feel small, the same way Aidric’s lack of words is an intimidation tactic. I can see right through their bullshit, though, and I think it’s starting to really piss them off.

“Second…punishment wrapped in pleasure? That’s your idea of control?” I laugh, sharp and bitter. “You clearly don’t know me. I don’t need a damn safe word.” I lean forward, meeting his gaze. “Whatever you two give me, I can take it.”

“Well, fuck,” Sebestian croons, his grin widening. “Seems we've got ourselves a challenge.”

Before I can form a response, a sting between my legs steals my attention. Aidric pushes two fingers inside me without hesitation. There’s no gentleness or buildup. Just raw intrusion. I was already wet, though, not ashamed of the fact that pain happens to be one of my biggest turn-ons.

My body jerks forward against the restraints, an airy gasp slipping from my lips before I can stop it. I grit my teeth, furious at myself for making a sound because I know what it does to them.

But there's a twisted and unhinged part of me that wants to see how far they’ll take this—how far this will go before someone folds.

And it sure as hell isn’t going to be me.

Sebastian presses the pinwheel to my collarbone, dragging it with just enough pressure to send tiny pricks of pain blooming beneath the surface. “Let’s see if we can peel those secrets out of you, Little Lamb.”

“Give it your best shot,” I gasp, as Aidric’s fingers work deeper, like he’s the one who’s about to pull secrets from my body, one knuckle at a time.

I shouldn’t like this. Not when it’s him making me feel this way. I should be begging him to stop while clawing my way free, but that’s what they want. They expect me to cry and beg, to turn into a submissive puddle.

Instead, my back arches, chasing the pleasure even as my mind screams against it. This will not be a game of humiliation—at least, not for me. If they want to offer up orgasms as punishment, I’ll ride that line till the end.

Sebastian quirks a brow, something depraved flickering in his eyes like I've just given him permission to have his way with me. In a way, I guess I have. He offered a safe word; I could say no or claim it’s too much. But it isn’t.

I began studying neuropsychiatry because of my mother, but I have learned a lot about myself and how my brain works in the process. We are as strong as our thoughts tell us we are, so I keep chanting my mantra that I adopted freshman year.

I am in control.

When Sebastian pops the button on his jeans, I’m certain he’s about to push for more. The sound of his zipper coming down is drowned out by the erratic cries tearing through my vocal cords as Aidric presses the pad of his thumb to my asshole, his fingers plunging feverishly inside me, curled at just the right angle to hit my G-spot. I’ve never felt anything like this before.

Oh, God. Right there .

What I crave in the bedroom is not an easy thing to ask for as a college student who’s only dated men my age. Most of them can’t be trusted to understand the line between masochism and abuse, case in point, these guys.

But for some reason, that doesn’t bother me with Aidric and Sebastian.

My skin prickles, every nerve in my body being zapped with pleasure. I’ve never felt quite so alive, as if every one of my needs were being met at once.

The next thing I know, Sebastian’s fingers are gripping my cheeks, possessively guiding my mouth open. The blunt heat of him nudges my lips and I part for him instinctively. This is where I hold the power, bringing him to ruin on my tongue. He knows I could bite off his dick, and I tease him with my teeth while my eyes glance at his face.

Sebastian grits his jaw, understanding flashing in his gaze that this is exactly what I wanted. He thought this little move would put me at his mercy, but it is quite the opposite.

The bitterness of salt hits my tongue, followed by the faint taste of his cologne clinging to his skin. It’s both heady and intoxicating.

I seal my lips around him, my tongue tracing along the underside as he pushes deeper. His raw, masculine scent wraps around me, caging me in—holding me hostage.

“That’s right, Little Lamb,” Sebastian murmurs as his fingers twist into my hair. He’s not gentle, but he’s not cruel either as he tugs, lifting my head until our eyes lock. The heat in his stare burns into me. My lips are slick, trembling around the weight of him.

“Suck my cock,” he says, his voice a low growl. “And tell me I’m your Lord.”

His words ignite something inside me, an intoxicating experience I have wanted to chase for so long now at my fingertips. My throat tightens, not from fear, but from the thrill of surrender ripping through me. Because the truth is…I want to do this. I want Sebastian to fall apart on my tongue so hard that he can’t shake me from his thoughts. I want him obsessed, chasing this high over and over again until I can turn the tables and make all of them bend to my will.

A hum vibrates in my throat as I take him deeper, my words muffled. “You’re my Lord.”

His grip tightens in my hair, and a satisfied growl rumbles from his chest. “Damn straight, I am.”

My moans wrap around him while his girth stretches my mouth. He is huge, longer and thicker than any guy I have been with before. But I just take that as a challenge, letting him test my gag reflex as he pushes into my throat. My breath hitches, eyes watering—but I don’t stop. I want every relentless second of it.

I’m enjoying this more than I have any right to—the thrill of having these men at my mercy.

Aidric’s fingers are relentless as they ruthlessly drive into me. Each curl sends a spark ricocheting through my spine that resonates down to my fucking toes. The stretch, the pressure, the way he finds that one spot again and again. It’s almost too much.

Then there’s Sebastian, thick and hot on my tongue, every slow thrust silencing my moans as he claims my mouth. All my senses are on high alert, making me dizzy. And fuck, it feels so good. I’m lost in it. Drowning, and I don’t want to come up for air.

“Oh, God,” I whimper, without thought.

“Not God,” Sebastian growls. “Lord. Your Lord.”

Before I can even brace for it, my orgasm slams into me. Sounds of pleasure rip out of me, raw and unfiltered as they echo through the room.

Aidric’s fingers don’t stop, dragging me deeper into the high, while Sebastian grips my hair tighter, fucking my mouth harder—demanding more, taking more.

Then, he pulls out. One strangled breath later, and I feel his hot release painting my skin. My cheek, my tongue, but thankfully it misses my eyes.

My walls clench, pulsing as the last waves of my orgasm shudder through me. My body trembles as I fall breathlessly from the peak of ecstasy.

And still, there’s a sick and twisted part of me that craves more.

I’m a mess, shaking, drenched in sweat and everything… them.

The sharp thud of footsteps against the concrete has my head jolting up. Callan storms toward us, his jaw clenched and his cheeks blazing red. He’s fucking livid.

“What the hell is this?” he roars, his voice cracking like thunder.

Unbothered by his presence, Sebastian calmly tugs up his pants, not sparing Callan a glance. Instead, he slides a hand into his pocket and pulls out a phone.

My stomach knots, a sick twist of realization curling in my gut. Did Sebastian and Aidric plan this? While Callan was up there searching everywhere, he had his phone this whole time?

Sebastian’s lips curl into a wicked smile as he swipes the screen. Then, he slowly turns the phone to face me.

I freeze, watching as a video plays. Not just any video—it’s me tossing the severed tongue onto a heap of sticks. I light the match, setting it on fire before placing the untouched box in the dirt. Every fucking second of it was captured.

By him.

“You were there the entire time?” My voice is a fractured whisper and all of the control I thought I gained turns to ash before my very eyes. My body turns cold, numb even as I try to process this.

“But…why?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

Blackmail. Leverage. Control.

They never planned to let me go, and I played right into their stupid game.

Sebastian crouches in front of me. “You see, Little Lamb,” he tsks softly, dragging a finger up my cheek, wiping away a streak of his release. “We own you. Every twisted little piece.” Then, without hesitation, he slips his cum-slick fingers into my mouth. This time, I bite down.

He rips his hand away quicker than Callan could when I did the same thing to him, clearly seeing my monster rise to the surface. A monster Callan has yet to acknowledge.

Suddenly, Callan lunges at Sebastian with enough force to send him crashing off the altar. The sound of his body hitting the floor echoes, but it feels so distant as my ears start to ring. Everything is pressing down on me so heavily, it’s like the air itself is trying to drown me.

I swallow as a sense of shock takes over. When I came over here, I thought this would go badly, but I never could have imagined this.

One of my wrists breaks free and I stare at the floor, a noticeable scratch on the concrete from where a secret door must open. My mind becomes so focused on it that everything else fades away. What is behind that door? Could I use it to gain leverage?

I don’t even realize Callan is unclasping the cuffs until I feel the cold metal slip away. I don’t move—I don’t even speak. Part of me wishes he’d just leave me chained here because whenI leave this place, I have to face the reality of how everything’s changed. I have to face it all— feel it all. And right now, that seems impossible.

So for just a minute, I let myself take a breath and adjust to my new reality. I am the Ice Lords’ newest accomplice. But the thing they don’t tell you about being an accomplice is that they have all of the information they need to burn the entire fucking plan to the ground.

And these men just reminded me that I am not afraid of a little fire.