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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SUNLIGHT SPILLED IN quiet and warm, brushing over the room like a soft touch. The weight I carried hadn’t vanished… but it felt lighter with him knowing, and still choosing to stay.

“If those men weren’t already dead, I’d kill them all over again,” Lucy said, her fingers brushing my cheek. “They had no right.”

I tried to smile, to reassure her it was okay, but it was news to me that the men were dead. I only remembered parts of that night.

“You need rest, and Mystic will have my hide if I don’t let you sleep,” Lucy said, standing. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The room felt quieter after Lucy left. Too quiet.

I was still amazed that, after everything, Lucy still called me a friend. After what Fang did to her because of me, I figured she’d run far and fast.

I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, my fingertips clutching the fabric as if that could keep the memories at bay. But they came anyway, creeping through the cracks in my mind like smoke—suffocating and inescapable.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing them away. It didn’t work.

Drago’s gaze was cold as he loomed over me, fingers tapping against the glass of his whiskey. “You’re keeping things from me, aren’t you, Zeynep?” His voice was deceptively soft, but I knew better. I had learned to hear the sharp edges beneath it.

My stomach twisted into knots. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I would never.”

He hummed, as if considering my words. As if he hadn’t already made up his mind.

I wasn’t the one who would suffer for his paranoia.

Lucy was.

I knew it the second Fang stepped into the room, gripping Lucy by the arm—his presence a looming shadow that made my blood run cold. My breath hitched, and I turned to Drago, panic clawing at my throat. “Please,” I gasped. “She didn’t do anything.”

His lips curled into something that might’ve passed as affection if I didn’t know what it really was. Control. “I know, Zeynep. That’s why this isn’t for her.”

Fang grabbed Lucy by the hair, yanking her forward. She stumbled, but she didn’t beg. Didn’t plead. She just looked at me, her eyes filled with something that shattered my soul—resignation. Like she had already accepted whatever was about to happen.

“No,” I choked out. “Don’t—”

Drago grabbed my chin, tilting my face toward his, forcing me to look at him instead of her. “You need to understand something,” he murmured, his thumb stroking my cheek as if he were comforting me. “I don’t hurt you because I love you. But that doesn’t mean I won’t teach you a lesson.”

Lucy cried out as Fang struck her.

I flinched, my body jerking toward her, but Drago held me still, his fingers tightening just enough to warn me.

“Shh,” he soothed. “Watch, baby.”

I couldn’t look away. He wouldn’t let me.

Lucy gasped in pain, but she didn’t break. She fought him back. Even as Fang hit her again, even as blood dripped from her mouth, she still didn’t give him what he wanted. She didn’t scream.

I did.

He continued to hold my face, forcing me to watch as Lucy fell unconscious, and Fang violated her in such an awful way. Drago pressed his lips to my forehead, whispering against my skin. “Secrets don’t belong between us. Do you understand now?”

I wanted to scream at him how much I hated him. I wanted to spit in his face. But I knew what he could do— what he would do —if I pushed too hard. So I did the only thing I could.

I nodded, and prayed Lucy would forgive me. A sob crawled up my throat, but it never made it past my lips. My fingers dug into the blanket, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s not here.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to open my eyes, to remind myself of where I was. This room. The scent of flowers and something woodsy. The safety of this clubhouse.

Not Dragon Fire. Not Drago.

I wasn’t his prisoner anymore.

I wasn’t anyone’s prisoner anymore.

But the past still had its claws in me, and I didn’t know how to make it let go.