Page 24 of Savage Captor (Deadly Devotion #1)

Grey

O f course, Cain finds me as I’m standing in the dining hall, waiting for the chefs to bring me chicken soup and fresh bread for Scarlett. I’m lucky it’s soup night tonight, otherwise I might be stuck feeding her porridge again.

“Status?” Cain asks.

He seems to be everywhere I am recently. It could be that he’s keeping an eye on me to make sure I don’t turn on him, that I’m reliable and true to my word. Cain should know I’m trustworthy to the core by now, but he’s not a trusting guy.

“She’s in my room,” I say. “Resting. Everything’s been… altered for her arrival.”

“Good,” Cain says. “A little birdy told me she’s sick.”

“Yeah,” my response is quiet. Scarlett is sick with a terrible, cruel illness because I filled her lungs with water. The memory of her violent coughing fit makes me wince.

“That’ll put training off track, then.”

“Stop talking about her like she’s a slave. She’s not. She’s a human, Cain.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “She’s your human now.

It’s your job to make her understand the realities of her new life.

To make it clear to her that she can’t leave, ensure that she’s accepted her fate.

You must train her. You’ll be the first Nighthawk to perform a claiming in the new order, so you need to set a good example. ”

“I get it,” I say gruffly. “I will.”

“Good. You’re fortunate enough to be able to choose which manner you train her in, but not if .”

“Yup.” I don’t hide the tenseness in my tone.

Cain wisely pivots topics. “Maximus is in.”

I blink slowly, trying to switch gears from thinking about Scarlett to thinking about mutiny. The tangled web I’ve gotten myself into by siding with Cain.

I clear my throat. “That’s good. Half the guys look up to him. If he advocates for mutiny, they’ll follow him.”

“You’ll rally most of the rest,” Cain says. “They trust you because you’re damn good at your job. And the splinter faction still stupidly loyal to Boyce will be taken care of if need be.”

“I’m not sure how much the guys will trust me after they find out what I’ve done,” I admit quietly. “They’ll think I’m weak.”

“No, they’ll honor your participation in an age-old tradition, or they will promptly leave the Nighthawks. In a body bag.”

His words are a reminder that Cain will not accept disobedience in his rank. He might be my friend, he might have my back, but I still work for him . I suspect that, if I crossed him, I’d be leaving in a body bag.

“Yup.” I’m back to short answers.

“You should see to your chosen,” Cain advises. “Keep a close eye on her. I have a feeling her compliant act is just an act.”

It probably is…

But I’ll set her on the right path soon enough.

When I return to my quarters, huge container of soup in hand, I find that Scarlett’s fallen asleep.

Here. In my bed. I lean against the doorway of my bedroom and watch her for a while, trying to untangle the odd feelings creeping into my chest. Satisfaction.

Possessiveness. And, above all, protectiveness.

I fucked this girl up badly in a fit of rage, and now it’s my responsibility to help her.

If Sam were here, he’d have told me not to hurt her. And if he were beside me now, I get the strong sense he’d tell me that it’s my responsibility to fix her. I don’t know if he’d agree with the claiming situation Cain’s pushing, though…

Scarlett stirs a little in her sleep, hands shifting around on the bed and legs wriggling.

Her breathing speeds, and then she frowns and releases a whimper.

A moment later, her eyes snap open, glazed over with a look of panic.

I guess she wasn’t exaggerating when she told the doc she gets nightmares.

Damnit, her nightmares are probably about me or Cain, or the both of us. Guilt pangs in my chest again. I don’t think I’ll ever be rid of it—even if I’m successful in my mission to make her happy. On the plus side, I’ve never failed a mission before…

Scarlett’s frantic gaze darts around the room, and she tries to sit forward before falling back onto her pillow with a grimace. When her eyes find mine, some of the stark fear is replaced with clarity.

“Oh. It’s you,” she says quietly.

I feel my eyebrows inch up. “Were you expecting someone else?” Did she dream of someone other than the man who stabbed her and drowned her, and has now informed her that he’s keeping her?

“Not really,” she says with a shallow, quiet sigh .

“What were you dreaming of?” I ask. Please don’t let it be me. “You looked like you were having a nightmare. The doc told me you were complaining about them.”

“The usual,” she replies. “Running from bad people only to fail and get killed.” She shrugs. “The nightmares usually pass along with my anxiety flares.” Her brows furrow. “Oh fuck. They’ll only go away once you kill me.”

Because she thinks she’ll live the rest of her life in a state of panic. I’d tell her that I’ll make sure that’s not true, but I don’t think she’ll believe me. I have to show her, and I will—in time.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I remind her. “Let’s get you fed,” I say, approaching the bed. I set the large plastic container of soup and the wrapped fresh bread on the nightstand. “First, gotta check your vitals. Doctor’s orders.” I leave to grab the briefcase that the doc furnished me with.

By the time I return, Scarlett’s managed to tenuously sit up, and she’s struggling with the lid to the soup. “Set it down before you make a mess,” I tell her. When she doesn’t listen, I lower my voice and say, “ Now .”

An adorable huff escapes her lip, but she puts the soup back on the nightstand and slumps against her pillows.

“Good girl. When I issue orders, I expect them to be obeyed the first time. Any deviation from this will result in consequences. Now, you might think you’re protected from consequences because you’re in no state to take a punishment, but I am counting your indiscretions—and I’ll continue doing so.”

Scarlett stares at me with a slight frown furrowing her brows. “I keep thinking that you have to be joking, but you’re actually serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” I confirm .

“And, what? Where do you see this going?” she asks. “What’s the endgame here? If you want a sex slave, buy one from my father. He certainly trafficks a surplus of them.”

“Enough,” I cut off. “Stop trying to provoke me. Contrary to the impressions I might’ve made, I’m not easy to provoke—but I won’t forget your attempts.”

“Right.” Scarlett’s tone has turned devoid of all emotions. “Let me ask you something: you hate my father, yes? You want him dead?”

I have a feeling I know where she’s going with this, and it isn’t pleasant. “Correct.”

“What is it you hate him for?” she asks. “Aside from the crime you punished me for—killing your brother.”

“I hate him because he’s a wretched human, and he causes bullshit problems left and right to the benefit of no one but himself. He was a problem to be dealt with long before he earned my personal wrath.”

“Wretched human,” Scarlett echoes. “ Right. And what makes him so wretched, in your opinion?”

She’s laying a trap. I can see it, but I won’t get caught in it because it won’t do either of us any good. It certainly won’t change her prospects for the future.

“Because he rapes and tortures women, right?” She presses.

“He’s not just a killer, he’s a serial rapist and a human trafficker.

Despicable, right?” She rakes a slow, piercing gaze over me, from head to toe.

“I already think a lot of terrible shit about you, Monster. But I’d assumed you wouldn’t stoop this low, and I guess I was wrong.

” She shakes her head. Her chest quivers, and she releases a low, rattling cough, but composes herself.

“You should kill me and get it over with, because I will never settle here. You might claim me, but it’ll only ever be in body—not in soul or heart.

” Her words hurt, digging deep and burrowing in my soul.

God, how they pain me. It feels like she’s slowly twisting a screwdriver through my gut.

I manage to keep the emotions from my face, but it isn’t easy.

I know she’s lashing out in anger right now, it’s to be expected, but that doesn’t soften the impact of what she’s saying.

Quickly, the pain is overtaken by anger. Who the hell is she to speak to me like that? To affect me like this?

“And I will never stop reminding you that you are every bit as bad as my father,” she goes on. “So if he deserves to die, so do you. And when your turn comes, I hope I’ll be there to watch the life seep from your eyes.”

“You’re vastly overestimating your value to me.

” In the face of her hard truths that hit me in places nobody’s accessed for a long time, I can’t help but be cruel in return.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think of me.

I don’t care about your itty-bitty emotions or your soul—which is already stained thanks to your heritage.

As long as you spread your legs when I tell you to, I don’t care for much else. ”

Scarlett keeps a brave face when confronted by my words, but the slight tremble of her lower lip betrays her.

It should make me feel bad, but it doesn’t.

In fact, seeing that I have an effect on her feels pretty damn good.

“After all, who could care about the daughter of Luther fucking Sharpe?” I grit my teeth when she flinches.

That’s a bit far—I can tell it hit a raw nerve.

“Figure out how to eat by yourself. Or don’t.

Feeding tubes are always an option.” I leave the room, slamming and locking the door behind me.

Then, I whip out my phone, double checking that the hidden camera I set up in my bedroom is live. It is; I can see Scarlett glaring at the soup. If she doesn’t eat it, I’ll feed her myself.

I know the prospect of forcing her, owning her every move, shouldn’t excite me as much as it does. But I’m helpless against the power that slowly fills my head. The potential of what I can do with her.