Page 57 of Monsters Carve Thrones

Waylon stood and circled me like a man inspecting merchandise. His fingers brushed a bruise on my arm. Iflinched. “Tsk. They got carried away again,” he murmured. “I’ll deal with them later.”

“What’s on the schedule for today, Waylon?” My voice cracked, but I kept it steady. “Another round of pretend civility before you play with your doll again?”

He laughed softly. “I’ll definitely play with my doll again, yes. But, I want to show you something.” He snapped his fingers.

A man wheeled in a tall metal rack, draped in cloth. I tensed. Weapons? Chains? Something worse?

Waylon approached it and pulled the cloth free.

I blinked.

Photos. Dozens of them. Printed and pinned. Surveillance-style images of Rafe. Of Nico. Of Laura. And Kieran.

My stomach twisted.

“You see,” Waylon said, voice low. “This is what your husband’s doing right now. Hunting. Scrambling. Desperate.” He leaned close, an insufferable smirk on his face. “And I want you to see what it looks like when a king loses his crown.”

I stared at the pictures, heart hammering. Rafe in a dark hoodie, lit cigarette in his mouth. He looked so tired, and it made my heart crack. There was also Nico stepping out of a club, Laura on a phone call in a Parisian alley, and Kieran walking out of a grocery store. “You’re tracking them.”

“Of course,” Waylon said, smiling like it was obvious. “They think they’re closing in. But we see everything. And if they get too close... well, things get messy.”

I stepped forward despite the chains, venom in my voice. “If you touch them, I swear to God–”

He grabbed me by the throat, nearly closing off my oxygen. “You’ll dowhat?” he whispered. “Bleed on my carpets? I plan on that.”

I didn’t blink, I wanted him to see the raging inferno behind my eyes. So, I concentrated on breathing.

He released me with a soft chuckle and gestured toward the guards. “Let’s take her to the dining room. I’ll meet you there.”

They dragged me away as Waylon poured himself a drink. Another day in hell.

The door opened with a creak that made my blood run cold. Waylon stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping the leather leash that hung from my cuffs. Chains, leashes...all meant to dehumanize me.

His eyes glinted with the promise of a game, one I was being forced to play, unfortunately. He dragged me down a hallway I hadn't seen before, past doors that reeked of wealth and rot, and into a room that felt colder than the concrete cell I’d been trapped in.

Half a dozen men were already gathered inside, seated like wolves in tailored suits. The room smelled of tobacco, cologne, and something coppery beneath it all. The chandelier overhead was gaudy, gold, glittering like a crown. They all looked at me when I was hauled in, and I felt it immediately.

The hunger.

It wasn’t sexual for all of them. Some of it was power, ownership, and the thrill of seeing someone beautiful, proud,and being destroyed.

Waylon yanked the leash until I stumbled forward and caught myself on the edge of the massive table. “Look what I brought,” he said, voice smooth, almost bored. “Rafe Vaughan’s precious little queen.”

They laughed. One man clapped slowly. Another lit a cigarette, eyes raking over my bare legs and the bruises on mywrists. One said something in Russian that made the rest of them laugh louder.

One of the men smirked. “I bet she’s a hell of a toy.”

“Oh, she is.” Waylon grinned. “I played with her for the first time last night.”

“Her body is fucking immaculate,” one of them grunted, swirling a crystal glass. “You planning on selling her or keeping her for your collection? Because I’ll pay whatever you want to have a turn.”

Waylon smiled, and my skin crawled. “She’s mine,” he said, dragging me close by the cuffs. “Not for sale. Not for trade. She’sproperty, and you’ll treat her as such when you’re in my house.”

I jerked away, but he held tight.

“You hear that, sweetheart?” he murmured, loud enough for everyone to enjoy. “You belong tome. Just a collar and a pretty little place at my feet.”

One man leaned back and said, “Does she bark on command?”