Page 88 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)

Pailtyn

W e’re sat at a small table. Thankfully I didn’t trip over that in my explorations.

I’ve got a bathrobe on and nothing else. I have no idea what Devin is wearing, if he’s even dressed.

In my hands I hold a knife and fork made of what feels like actual silver. The weight is comforting, it reminds me of before, when I was home, when I was treated as a person, a human being, at least, that’s what I thought, when the reality is I was actually being groomed.

In front of me smells the most incredible damn meal of my life. My mouth waters as I try to scoop something onto the fork. But as I raise it to my mouth, all I get is some sauce, nothing of substance.

I can hear the scraping as Devin cuts his meat, as he shifts his food onto his own fork and as he slowly eats like this is some fine dining event and not technically still a hostage situation.

When he realises I’m struggling, however, he leans over, takes the cutlery from my hand and audibly stabs at the plate before returning it to my now open fingers.

I can feel the weight has changed. I can feel that there’s food impaled on the end.

I lift the fork up, sliding what I discover to be a bit of carrot into my mouth.

The sauce covering it is delicious. It’s creamy, rich, too decadent really for my stomach to tolerate, but right now, I don’t give a fuck.

As soon as I’m done chewing, Devin takes my fork again and repeats the action. This time it’s chicken, perfectly cooked, perfectly moist. I let out a shameful moan as I chew it.

Whatever Devin thinks I don’t know, but he continues helping me to eat while feeding himself.

My stomach churns in protest. Maybe all those weeks of starvation have shrunk it, but now I feel so full it almost hurts.

Devin barks for someone and I assume it’s a servant as our plates our cleared in a hurried, practised fashion before whoever it is makes a quick exit. Based on the movement, I’d say that man is almost as petrified of Devin as I am.

“Where are we?” I ask as soon as the door shuts behind him. The question has been bugging me from the moment we pulled up on his motorbike.

Wherever we were, it had a long drive. I could feel the difference in the surface between the road and this place. This place isn’t some dingy dungeon, this place has the air of grandeur. It has that same stuffy feeling my family home had, that the Palace had too.

“Somewhere safe.” Devin replies.

“Am I not permitted to know?” I snap.

I hear his elbows plant onto the table. “I will tell you what you need to know and keep out the details you don’t.”

“And why do you get to decide?” I retort.

I know he smiles. I know him well enough to know that comment garners a reaction.

“We are somewhere they cannot find us.”

“Who?”

“Your mother and my brothers.” He says.

So, they are hunting him then. Devin and his brothers are at war. I don’t find that fact reassuring in the slightest.

“And the Esau?” I half-whisper. Like I’d forgotten the fact they were mentioned.

“What do you know of them?” He replies as I hear the sound of metal chinking. I guess he’s putting his cutlery down to really focus on me now.

It feels like a test. It feels like he’s waiting for me to reveal some secret. Some big, dark, dirty secret I’ve been harbouring all these years. Only, sadly, I have no such thing.

I shrug. “I know what most people know.” I say quietly. “That hundreds of years ago, some of us rose up, tried to change the Brethren, tried to change our ways…”

“They slaughtered your ancestors.” He states. “As a Founder, I’d expect you to be more concerned about them then…”

“Then what?” I cut across him. “My mother, your brothers for instance? Everyone is a threat to me. Every living person.”

I don’t know what he thinks to that statement, I wish I could see his face, I wish I could see his expression. All I have to go on is the sound of his breathing, the small audial tells. But so much about his behaviour, about his emotions were always unspoken.

I let out a huff, shaking my head. Why am I even bothering?

You can’t reason with madness can you? But then, is Devin actually mad?

Gunther was, Gunther was as crazy as they come…

Devin, I’m certain he’s not crazy, at least, not in the same manner.

He’s not crazy chaotic, he’s calculated, ruthless.

I’m also sure of the fact that he has a plan to all of this.

“Why do you want me, surely you could have your pick of the girls, being a Blake?” I say, deciding to try a different angle.

“Maybe there’s something about you that I particularly like.” He says pointedly.

It’s hard not to grimace at that.

“You said you wanted to marry me.” I continue. “Why would you want that? Surely, you’d prefer a nice little virgin?”

He snorts then. “Virgins are boring.”

“And I’m not?”

“No.”

I don’t understand why he can say that, it’s not like I’ve done anything close to making him think I’ve been intentionally entertaining him.

“You know I don’t have a fortune anymore, that was stripped of me when I was sent to Oblivion.”

I don’t care for your money.” He says flatly. “You think we Blakes don’t have our own?”

Fine, so it’s not the wealth. I wring my fingers together, what else could it be?

The only thing I have left, the only thing they haven’t taken from me, can’t take from me, is my bloodline. “What if I can’t have children?” I whisper. I don’t know if that’s true, but my body has been damaged enough that it might be the case.

“You can.” He says so certainly. So confidently.

“You don’t know that…”

“Actually, I do.” He replies. “We had you checked over. You were out of it at the time, so I doubt you remember it. The doctor gave me a full report, of course, he missed one thing out…”

“That I’m cut?” I guess. I know he didn’t have a clue about that until he tried to fuck me, his reaction tells me that’s the case.

He grunts. “Clearly, he didn’t see the relevance of it. I’ll make sure he understands his error.”

I shake my head at the threat. This man so easily turns to violence. It’s thrilling in a way, and yet, horrifying too.

“What if I asked you to be gentle?” I whisper. “What if, I let you fuck me but…”

I hear the sound of his chair scraping as he shifts position. “Maybe if you beg…” He says quietly.

Beg. I can do that. I mean, it’s not like I’ve not done it before more times than I can count.

I draw in a low breath, pushing my chair back, and I slip to the floor on my knees.

“Please…” I begin trying to emulate that old part of me, that weak part, that part that endured so much.

He tuts, moving to stand and his fingers brush my lips. “I didn’t mean with words.”

I hear the sound of his belt undoing, I hear the rustle of his trousers as he clearly gets his dick out. He wants me to suck him off? He wants me to give him a blow job as payment, fine, I can do that. No fucking problem. Though it’ll be hard not to be tempted to bite his stupid dick off.