Torn (A Wicked Trilogy Book 2) (30 page)

Totally going to do that.

But I looked over my shoulder at Valor instead. He was avidly watching the show on the bed, and I really just wanted to throw myself out the nearby window. Since I couldn’t do that, I stared at the floor and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the bed. I didn’t dare look up until I heard Drake groaning again.

Pulling Breena’s head out of his lap, he then tossed his legs off the bed and stood. Buck-ass naked, of course.

I thought of Tink. He would freak if he was here right now. A weird giggle started to rise and I squelched it down.

He walked over to a chair and picked up a robe, slipping it over his shoulders. He left it hanging open, of course, because why not? I mean, what was the point since I’d just seen—

“It’s time.”

Those two words jerked me out of my thoughts. A chill tiptoed down my spine, quickly turning into dread. “Time for what?”

The prince walked toward us. “It’s time to feed.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I could barely keep track of time.

Minutes turned into hours, hours into days. I think ten days had passed since the first time I’d fed on that woman, but I wasn’t exactly sure. Every ounce of my being was dedicated to keeping my head above water, but with every passing minute, I drowned a little more.

A sick and disturbing ritual started, one I wanted no part of but couldn’t fight. No matter what I did, I was dragged under.

The prince would show every day, sometimes in the afternoon. Those days were better because I didn’t spend hours waiting for him to show, knowing that he would and fearing what was to come. Part of me would rather get what was coming over with. Other times he showed in the evening, and I was wired after hours of dread eating away at me.

But he always showed, and I was never taken to his room again.

I tried to resist the manipulation by keeping a distance between us, since I hadn’t been chained to the bed again. But it didn’t work. There was nowhere for me to go, and I . . . I didn’t remember leaving the room with him after that.

I only remembered bits and pieces. Going down the stairs. Sitting on the woman’s cot and wondering why her veins were so dark. Then I
fed
. I remembered feeling good and then not feeling anything at all, then falling asleep. Each time I woke up, I was full of energy—life that I’d been forced to steal from someone else—and then I showered. I
always
showered. Details of the time after the feedings were vague shadows I didn’t dare examine too closely.

Every day was like that.

By around day twelve or thirteen, the chain was removed, but the band remained as a reminder—a stupid, pointless reminder, because if the prince wasn’t there, I was sleeping or pacing. The door was locked and there was no busting through the heavy wood like a ninja. No one else came near me.

Not Breena.

Not Faye.

Food was always on the nightstand when I woke. I had no idea if it was Faye who brought it to me or one of the other fae, but it was always a sandwich of some sort. That was the only food I saw all day, and sometimes I wasn’t hungry, because I . . . I was already full from a different source.

When I had complete control over my mind and body, it took every ounce of willpower that I had in me not to claw his heart out with my bare hands. It would’ve been hard and messy, but there was a damn good chance I could have done it. The hate building inside me burned brighter than a thousand suns, but even with that rage, I always,
always
felt cold. With each passing day, it was like I was filling up on the inside with ice and shadows. The only time I didn’t feel this way was when I slept.

I felt nothing then.

Once he explained to me why I slept after . . . after feeding. The way he described it reminded me of how you want a nap after Thanksgiving dinner, but I also thought it sounded kind of like any time you were high. Eventually you came crashing back down and your body sort of gave out. There was no hangover or recovery for me though. All I needed was sleep, and I was better than before, as sickening as that was.

I didn’t think of Ren during these times. I couldn’t allow myself to, because when I thought of Ren, I worried about how safe he was. I knew the prince couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t break his promise, and that meant he couldn’t indirectly cause Ren harm, but that didn’t stop any other fae from deciding a way to please their leader was to serve up Ren’s head on a platter. And even though I tried not to allow it, Drake and Breena’s words haunted me. Those words messed with me, just like they’d intended, and I thought maybe if I wasn’t stuck in this room, being forced to do horrible things every damn day, I would have the strength not to give in to those words.

I didn’t know anymore.

But in the minutes and hours I was alone, pacing the length of the room, no matter how hard I tried not to, I mourned Ren, because if I made it out of here alive and was reunited with him, I still couldn’t see a happily ever after for us.

On the sixteenth day, the prince arrived in the afternoon. I was ready for him, restless and antsy, standing by the dresser in another dress, much like the first one, but in a deep forest green this time. I don’t know what the fae around here had against pants, but I really looked like the chick from that Disney movie now.

The prince stopped just inside the room, his gaze moving from the bed to where I stood. Based on previous experience, I knew he would immediately pull me under, and once that happened, I would be lost.

“Can we talk for a little bit?” I blurted out before he could do anything.

His brows rose. “Talk?”

I nodded as I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah, that’s what people typically do.”

“But we’re not people.”

Irritation spiked, and I took a deep, even breath.
Keep your cool, Ivy.
“I know, but I think talking wouldn’t hurt. I only have a couple more days—”

“Six days if you’re counting today,” he interrupted.

“Thanks for keeping track,” I replied, and he smirked. “But I’m still not . . . comfortable with you.”

He stalked forward, and I tensed as I dropped my gaze, focusing on his booted feet. That would only work for so long. When a fae used manipulation, something changed in their voice. It was like a lullaby, and you had to listen and look. And once you looked, you were a goner.

“I would think by now you’d be comfortable,” he said as he stopped a few feet in front of me.

Loathing of the deepest kind flared in my chest. He hadn’t . . . God, I couldn’t even bring myself to think it let alone say it, and I hated that, because it made me feel
shamed
, and I had done nothing wrong. Nothing. He repeatedly took advantage of me, proving he was the worst kind of creature, and the only reason I think why he hadn’t gone there was because he really didn’t want me.

The prince was aroused only when I fought him, as disturbing and twisted as that was.

It took a couple of seconds before I trusted myself to speak. “You manipulate me into feeding, and then after that I’m not really me. None of that counts and doesn’t help me get comfortable with you.”

He leaned against the dresser, loosely crossing his arms. “I’m not sure it’s actually necessary to get more comfortable.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m sure you do,” he replied. “I’ve been incredibly lenient with you.”

I blinked, and almost looked up at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I have removed the chain. I have not pushed, and if you think I have, then you haven’t learned anything.” Straightening, he curled his hand around my arm. “I could’ve gotten you to say yes several times over the last couple of days. I haven’t. Should I have?”

“I would’ve said yes only because I’m not in control of myself,” I said, shifting my gaze to the floor. “And I assume the reason why you haven’t done that is because you know it won’t work. Sure, you can get me to agree, but I cannot be under your control, and I am the entire time.”

Drake didn’t respond for several moments and then he dropped my arm. “What do you want to talk about?”

Surprise flickered through me. He was actually relenting? “I . . . I have questions.”

“Then ask them.”

His bored tone irked me, but I let it go. “Do we have to stay in here?”

He was silent for a moment. “I guess not. Where would you like to go?”

Hope sparked alive. “Outside.”

“Not going to happen.”

Out of instinct, I lifted my gaze, but stopped at his chest. “I have been locked in this room and in this house for over two weeks. I would like to breathe open air. Is that really too much to ask for?”

“Yes.”

I unfolded my arms. “Being cooped up in here is going to drive me insane.”

“I thought you already were.”

I was seriously going to throat punch this guy. “All I’m asking for is a couple of minutes outside, in the sun and in the open air. That’s it.”

Drake muttered something in a different language and then pushed away from the dresser. He started for the door and I lifted my gaze. “If you try anything, you will not like what happens.”

Triumph flashed within me. “Also, just a heads up, but threats don’t exactly make me feel comfortable either.”

He held the door open. “And just a heads up, I really don’t care.”

I pressed my lips together as I walked past him, knowing if I ticked him off now, I wouldn’t just be starting all over. He’d have me down in that horrible room and I would be doing terrible things to innocent people.

That horrible cloudy feeling swept over me, and I was cold down to the marrow. Just standing beside him and having to breathe the same air made me feel like there was an iceberg taking up residence in my chest.

I hated it.

But I had to deal with it.

Pushing those thoughts aside to dwell and stress over later, I followed him down the winding staircase. There was an ancient by the front door. He said nothing as he opened it and stepped aside.

Cool air rushed over me, spreading goosebumps up and down my arms. The thin dress was no protection against the chilly temperature, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was outside, and even though I knew I wouldn’t make it far at all if I ran for it, there could be other opportunities. I just needed to . . .
behave
myself. Ugh.

Drake walked out onto a sprawling, vacant porch. I imagined at one time it had bushy ferns hanging above the railings and comfy chairs perfect for a lazy day of reading. There was nothing human about it now. Just cold. Empty.

A driveway that hadn’t been repaved in ages cut into the dead grass and disappeared into the woods several yards from the front porch. I walked down the old stone steps, stopping in the sunlight. I inhaled, closing my eyes for a few seconds, centering my thoughts. There was a deep, rich earthy scent that reminded me of a pile of grass clippings. I recognized it. I opened my eyes, looking around. I didn’t see it, but I knew we had to be close to the bayou.

“Ask your questions.”

I hated a lot about the prince of the Otherworld, but I really hated his demanding tone. “Can we walk?”

Sighing, he practically stomped down the steps. “Ask.”

I shot a nasty glare at his back, but I started walking. I did have a lot of questions and decided to start with the most important one. “What do you plan to do once you have your apocalypse baby?”

Drake looked over his shoulder at me. “Would you please stop calling it that?”

“What’s your game plan? The baby is born and the gates open. What next?” I folded my arms again as I scanned the landscape. There were no other roads except the driveway we were walking down. I knew there were none at the back of the house, because the bedroom I was staying in faced that portion of land. It was just tall weeds and trees back there. “There are a lot of humans. Like seven billion or something. I know that sounds like an all-you-can-eat buffet, but that’s a lot of humans who aren’t going to want to be on a menu.”

He chuckled as he glanced over at me. “Humans are stupid.”

I shook my head. “Wow.”

“They ignore the obvious. They have a tendency to stick their heads in the sand and fabricate logical explanations that assuage their fears rather than face what’s right in front of them,” he said, and I kind of had to agree with some of that. “They won’t know we have taken control until it’s too late.”

“And how will you take control?” I asked.

He stood in the middle of the cracked driveway and faced me. I immediately lowered my gaze out of instinct. “There may not be seven billion fae in this realm, but there are hundreds of thousands of us now.”

The Order always knew there were a lot of fae, but hundreds of thousands? Holy crapola, that was a lot.

“One fae equals a thousand humans,” he said, and I figured his math was a bit biased. “And once we open the gates, all will come through, and there are millions of us.”

Wind tossed my curls across my face as I stared at his chest. There was no way, for obvious reasons, we could allow that to happen. “There are still more of us.”

“You mean more of
them
,” he corrected. “Do you think we haven’t been planning for decades? Centuries?” He stepped forward, and my muscles locked up. “We are not barbarians who can only conquer by war. Not that we’d completely rule out that option if it came to that.”

Good to know. I started walking past him, toward the end of the driveway. “But?”

“But we have planned,” he repeated, easily catching up to me with his long legs. “We are everywhere. Some are just ordinary citizens. Others have willed their ways into positions of power.”

I thought of Marlon. He was known as a huge developer in the city, and he had a lot of power locally, but I knew Drake wasn’t just talking about land development. “You’ve infiltrated the government, haven’t you?”

Without even looking at his face, I knew he was smiling when he spoke. “Local. Federal. Global. We are everywhere, and it’s only a matter of time before we have complete control.”

He made it sound so simple, and in a way, it was. If they got into enough positions of power, they could take over, slowly changing the world into what they wanted.