Torn (A Wicked Trilogy Book 2) (24 page)

“Really?” He laughed.

Diving for the stake, I screamed in frustration when his arms encircled my waist. My nails dug into him as he dragged me out of the kitchen. I kicked my legs out, catching the black metal lamp. It fell to the floor, the white shade caving in.

“Why are you even fighting me, Ivy? You know you cannot win.”

Bull. Shit.

I let myself go limp. Drake wasn’t expecting that move, and his arms loosened a bit, so I slammed my foot down on his and thrust my elbow back into his stomach.

“By the old gods, you are testing my patience.” He dragged me to the right and wrapped his arm around my chest, pinning my arms.

Then I was flying.

I hit the couch and landed face-first in the back cushions. For a moment I was stunned, and then I flipped onto my back. I started to swing my legs, but Drake was there, standing over me and then on me. A heavy hand wrapped around my throat.

Thrashing, I kicked out and beat my fists on his arms. I lifted my hips to throw him, but his weight was too heavy and there was no moving him. The heaviness caused pressure to clamp down on my chest. I went wild, my panicked instinct taking over. I went for his eyes with my nails, but he kept his head back.

Then Drake pressed down, and I felt what I hadn’t felt when we’d been on the couch and I thought I’d been making out with Ren, seconds from taking it to the next level. A different kind of terror filled every cell as he lowered his mouth toward mine, stopping just shy of our lips meeting. “I like it when you fight back.”

I immediately stopped. “Gross,” I spat.

“Shame,” he murmured. “But there will be time later.”

Forcing myself to go still, I tried to suck in air as I stared up at the prince. He looked like Ren. He sounded like him with the exception of the speech pattern, but this wasn’t Ren causing me pain, slowly cutting off my airway. It wasn’t Ren turning my insides out, terrifying and infuriating me.

It just looked like him.

It was the cruelest kind of evil wrapped in the most familiar beauty.

His gaze moved over my face as he reached between us with his other hand. He gripped the front of my shirt, and for a heart-stopping moment, I had no idea what he was going to do. Then his fingers wrapped around my chain. He yanked. My body jerked, and then he was holding the necklace—my tiger’s eye with the clover enclosed.

My eyes widened.

“I’m going to enjoy this far more than you’ll ever know.”

Drake lowered his mouth to mine, and I clamped my lips shut. “So difficult,” he said, grasping my chin. His fingers dug into my cheeks, forcing my jaw open. The winter mint taste filled my mouth, but he didn’t try to kiss me.

He inhaled.

My entire body jerked as an icy burn traveled down my throat and exploded in my gut. He was feeding—oh God, he was
feeding
. With each breath he took, the precious commodity was stolen from me. The feeding was draining, stealing away my energy. A heavy weight settled in my stomach, barb-tipped and razor sharp. It tore through me, and distantly I recalled Val saying it could be pleasant, better than sex. I called bullshit

on that, because it felt like he was sucking out every ounce of my being.

Darkness crept in, crowding out all light and sound, and then it was more than just energy he was stealing. I fought to stay aware in my body. Too much was at stake, but the burn was everywhere, and I was shrinking away from it, pulling myself back. My hands slipped off his arms, and pieces of my will vanished, crumbling away until my body went lax, my arms falling to my sides. I saw the inky blackness filling the veins in my hand, spreading outward.

And then I saw nothing.

Chapter Twenty-One

Waking up was like dragging myself out of quicksand. Every time I thought I’d reached the surface, I was sucked back down until I was finally able to pry my heavy eyelids open. Bright light greeted me, an intense warm sunlight.

Was I dead?

I turned my head to the left and saw a large window. Gauzy white curtains were held back by sashes. I quickly deduced that I was, in fact, still alive.

And I was on a bed.

A large bed.

Jerking upright, I gasped as a rush of dizziness nearly dragged me back under. My throat ached, as did several other places. My hip felt like it needed a replacement. I squeezed my eyes shut, counting slowly as everything that had gone down with the prince resurfaced.

He’d been masquerading as Ren.

He’d fed on me.

I opened my eyes and looked at my right hand. The veins there were more prominent and a darker blue, but the black was gone, along with most of the poison. The sluggishness would linger for several hours. That I knew from personal experience.

Ren.

My breath caught as I stared down at the pale blue bedspread. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead or . . . worse. All I did know was that he wasn’t safe. The prince—Drake—had said that he was alive for now, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust those words. Sorrow welled up until a knot formed deep in my chest and tears burned my eyes.

If he was . . .

My fingers dug into the comforter as I exhaled harshly. I couldn’t let myself feel grief right now. Too much was at stake, and I was
not
safe. I needed to figure out where I was and how I could get far, far away from this place.

I lifted my gaze, scanning the ornate bedroom. The room was huge, with lavish furnishings. Two oversized chairs that reminded me of thrones sat in front of a large window. Across from the bed was a massive oak dresser. A standing mirror was in the corner next to an open door that led to what appeared to be a sizable bathroom.

The room smelled of rich balsam.

Gathering up my energy, I scooted toward the edge of the bed and peered down at the shiny hardwood floors. A plush white throw rug that looked as soft as a lamb covered half the floor. Carefully, I swung my legs off the bed. It was then that I realized my feet were bare. My boots and socks were gone, as was the iron stake hidden in my left boot.

I was weaponless.

“Shit,” I muttered.

With a shaky hand, I reached for the torn collar of my shirt. My necklace was gone, too. Double shit. I was susceptible to manipulation now. Tendrils of fear grew within me, washing over my chilled skin. The only way I could protect myself was to be careful, and to not let the fae make eye contact with me, but that was equivalent to the pull-out method when it came to not getting pregnant.

My hand closed into a fist and fell into my lap. As my feet hit the soft rug, a dozen horrible thoughts assaulted me. How long had Drake been masquerading as Ren? Instinct told me it was after the night I had told Ren about what I was, and he’d subsequently disappeared. I was praying that was the case, because the longer Ren could’ve been under their control, the worse things were.

Drake had touched me. He had kissed me, and I . . .

“Oh God,” I moaned, squeezing my eyes so tight that I saw tiny bursts of light.

Acids churned in my stomach as a mixture of betrayal and shame collided with anger. I was so going to kill the prince. I was going to find a wire brush and scrub down my body first, and then I was going to kill him with it.

I stood and took in my surroundings. Shuffling over to the door, I unsurprisingly found it locked. Another closed door led to an empty closet. There were no windows in the bathroom, but there was a ginormous Jacuzzi tub.

There was a small table between the throne chairs. A fancy, ceramic water pitcher that I doubt was ever used sat in the middle. Stepping around it, I checked out the window. No locks. I peered outside, and my shoulders slumped when I saw that I was several stories off the ground. There was no way I’d survive the jump. I scanned upward. Tall trees surrounded the property. The dull grass down below didn’t look like it had been touched in ages. Through the trees, I thought I saw muddy water.

I was definitely out of the city.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Turning around, I frantically scanned the room for a weapon of sorts. The pitcher was the only thing I could find. I grasped the cool handle, surprised by the heaviness. I tensed as the door opened.

A tall woman stepped inside. Even though I was without the clover, I still saw through the glamour. She was a fae, all silvery smooth skin and pointy ears. Her pale gaze moved to the bed. She frowned and turned to where I stood.

“She’s awake,” she said, speaking out into the hall.

My grip tightened on the handle. “Where am I?”

The female didn’t answer as she drifted further into the room.

“Where am I?” I repeated.

She raised a single eyebrow. “I don’t answer to you, cow.”

Cow? I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You guys really need to come up with better insults.”

Her laugh was cold. “You should put that pitcher down before you hurt yourself.”

“No, thank you.” I glanced over her shoulder. The door was still open. I could make a run for it. I just needed a distraction. Once I was out in the hallway, though, I had no idea what I would face.

She cocked her head to the side. “We are having food brought to you. If you misbehave, you will net the consequences.”

“Ooh. Scary.”

The female’s lip curled. “I think we should starve you. Maybe then, when hunger is gnawing at you, you will gladly open your thighs—”

I threw the pitcher and then took off. Well, tried to take off. My muscles weren’t exactly cooperating in a timely fashion. The pitcher smacked into the side of the fae’s head, and her outraged shriek hit the air at about the same I got my legs to actually move. I stumbled around the chair, heading for the doorway.

The fae crashed into me from behind, taking me down. I hit the floor, and it knocked the air right out of my lungs. She flipped me over, and I took a swing. My knuckles glanced off her cheek, knocking her head to the side.

“Bitch!” she spat, grabbing my arm, and then it happened so fast.

Her teeth dug into my skin, and fiery pain erupted. Screaming, I pounded the side of her head with my free hand. She was biting me! The bitch was actually biting my arm. I hit her again, along the temple, and she let go. Bright red blood trickled down the side of her mouth.

She licked her lips. “Tastes like wine.”

I rolled out from under her, scrambling to my feet as a pair of legs entered the room, blocking my way out. I was fully prepared to bum-rush whoever was standing in the way.

“Do it,” the female shouted. “Or I will break her in two.”

“The prince will not be pleased to see her injured,” a male said.

I tried to lift my head but was stopped. Cool metal hit my throat, and a loud
click
thundered in my head. Panicked, I reached up and my fingers slipped over a metal band—a band connected to something. A chain. Holy shit—a chain.

“Like a dog. A breeding bitch,” the female fae said a second before pain exploded alongside my head, followed by intense, white light and nothing more.

~

Waking up happened differently this time. There was no quicksand or struggling to open my eyes. I was knocked out one second and then I was sitting up in a rush. I swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the ache along my head. A white bandage circled my left forearm. I made it another three steps before I was pulled back.

My hands flew to the band around my neck. It was smooth with the exception of a small keyhole. Wide-eyed, I spun around. The length of the chain rested on the blue bedspread. It was thin and light when I gripped it.

Oh my God.

I pulled on the chain, seeing that it was connected to the upper-right bedpost. I rushed over to it, swallowing down the nausea. No. It wasn’t connected to the actual bed. There was a metal hook in the bedpost, like it had been planted there just for an occasion like this, and it was locked in place.

Oh my God.

“Son of a bitch.” I yanked on the chain. Metal rattled, shaking the bed, but I got nowhere. He had me chained to a damn bed! “I’m going to kill him. I’m so going to kill him!”

Fury coated the inside of my mouth. I couldn’t believe it. Wrapping my hands around the chain, I yanked with everything in me. Wood creaked but didn’t give. I guessed I should’ve been grateful that the chain wasn’t heavy. Tears of anger burned the back of my eyes. I pulled on the chain until my palms ached, until the tears hit my cheeks.
This can’t be happening
. Over and over, I repeated those four words, but it was happening. This was reality.

Behind me, the door opened without any warning. I dropped the chain and turned, breathing heavy. There he was. The prince. Drake. And it
looked
like him—dark, shoulder-length hair and olive skin. It was a small relief that he no longer looked like Ren.

“I’m going to kill you,” I promised.

He arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Drake chuckled as he walked toward the bed, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “You haven’t touched your dinner.” He gestured to the nightstand. A covered plate sat untouched. “You should eat.”

I reached for the plate, and Drake seemed to sense that I had no intention of eating. He was wicked fast, snatching the tray away before I could beat him upside the head with it. My hands closed around empty air. “Unchain me,” I commanded.

“I don’t think so.” He placed the tray on the table where the pitcher had been. “You’re awake for all of five minutes and you abused one of mine.”

“One of yours bit me.” I lifted my left arm.

“And she has been dealt with.” Drake faced me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I do not want you injured.”

“Really?” I laughed harshly. “You have no problem injuring me.”

“That was before I knew what you were.”

“Oh, so beating the crap out of other females is okay? Feeding on them against their will?” I said when he looked like he was going to speak. “And I’m pretty sure you injured me earlier—”

“You were fighting me,” he replied coolly. “Am I supposed to stand there and not defend myself?”

“You have me chained to a fucking bed!” I shrieked like a banshee.