Page 70 of Monsters Carve Thrones

The metal collar bit into my neck. I gasped, face pressed against cold wood. A few men watched, some amused, some silent. But of course, no one helped. They’d probably rather watch him take me right there, the sick fucks.

“Waylon, feel free to punish the girl,” a deep voice reached my ears somehow through the roaring.

Waylon’s eyes darted up. “That’s definitely tempting, Varga,” he snorted. “I remember what you did toyourlittle whore when she talked back.”

“I’m not as possessive as you, Waylon,” he smiled into his glass of amber liquid. “Every man in that meeting benefitted from her little outburst. Including you.”

My stomach turned.

Waylon laughed, as if he weren’t still holding me down. “Probably one of our best meetings.”

They all laughed. The fuckers raped a poor girl together. I bit my tongue so hard I tasted copper.

“I bet she’s fun,” the man said again.His name was Varga.Salt and pepper hair tied in a messy bun, tan skin, dark eyes.“The ones with hope always are.”

My blood fucking boiled. Waylon kept me pinned, his attempt at humiliation completely futile. He couldn’t do anything else to me. “Excuse me, I need to punish her. I’ll return shortly.”

“Aw, pity,” Varga chuckled, nudging Parvy playfully.

He hauled me upright and dragged me from the room by the collar. I didn’t fight. But before the door closed, I looked back and glared at Varga and Parvy.

He didn’t take me far. I flinched when he ripped open the door in the next room. My face hit the wall as he shoved me against it, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. BeforeI could even inhale, he was against my back. And when he violently used my body again, I smiled through the pain.

Becausehewas out there. And every time I disobeyed and stoked Waylon’s rage, I could feel his grip slipping just a little bit more. “You’re going to have to be extra fucking good, you know that?” he panted. “You stupid littlewhore, choosing the worst time to be brave. You’re not fucking brave. You’reweak.I should have let them all fuck you.”

“But you didn’t,” I somehow chuckled during his assault. “Because you’re toopossessive.”

His hand reached around and clamped around my throat, cutting off oxygen for a moment. “Vaughan didn’t train you well enough.”

I gave in to the urge to roll my eyes. I only did so because he was behind me and couldn’t see. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. It usually didn’t unless we were in bed for the night and he wanted to take his sweet time. Whenever he was pissed, the pain would only last a few minutes. It was this weird, yet predictable thing unhinged men did whenever they got into a rage.

When we reached the center of the room, he shoved me forward, forcing me to bend over the long conference table. A hiss of pain escaped me as my hips hit the edge.

Several of them chuckled.

I didn’t have to lift my head to know they were watching. I could feel it. Their hungry gazes on my bare thighs, my bruised arms. The humiliation was as sharp as the pain. And yet, I didn’t make a sound.

“She still fights,” Waylon said casually, taking a seat beside me like I was nothing more than a centerpiece.

“She’s gotfire,” Varga murmured, his voice low and oily. “I like that.”

I winced. I didn’t want him to like anything about me.

Varga leaned back in his chair, eyeing the red marks on my legs like he was admiring a piece of art. His lips twitched, eyes gleaming with something twisted. Parvy licked his teeth.

“She’s getting there,” Waylon said with a sigh, stroking a hand down my spine. “I definitely wasn’t expecting her little outburst. She bit me again earlier.” He smiled as if proud. “Can you believe that?”

Another round of dark laughter circled the table.

Waylon’s hand slid lower, slow and possessive until it cupped my ass. He gave a light slap. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but enough to make me flinch. The sound echoed in the silence like a taunt of what he’d just done.

“Mmm,” he murmured, satisfied. “Much better. Now I can focus.”

He leaned back, stretching his arms out as if he hadn’t just used me as a prop for dominance. “Let’s continue with business, shall we?”

No one objected. Monsters didn’t see anything wrong with what had just happened. I stayed there, draped over the cold table, eyes half-shut, cheek pressed to the woodgrain. My body ached. My mind floated somewhere above it all. I felt everything and nothing.

Their voices blurred together.