TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) (8 page)

Slowly, he released his grip on her hair and smoothed his fingers down the silky blonde locks. He’d scored a major victory when she’d come to him looking for a deal, and he couldn’t let her go. Not if he ever hoped to break free of his father’s control. He could lose his underground kingdom, he could even lose his satyrs—he wouldn’t care—but he wasn’t about to lose her and the promise of freedom she’d become.

“Sleep, my sweet Cynna. We still have much work to do.”

He pushed from the bed and stared down at her. The dark energy still raged inside, but this time, he fought it back. This time, he wasn’t going to let it control him.
 

Because this time, he finally had a way out.

C
ynna couldn’t shake the chill.

Seated at one end of the long dining table while conversation drifted around her, she stared into the crackling fire in the big stone fireplace and watched the flames lick and skip over the charred wood. Where did Zagreus get the wood? His lair was in an underground cave system. Someone had to leave and bring it back. Why couldn’t she have been given
that
job instead of being branded the mistress of pain and torture?

And why, in the name of all the gods, had Nick thanked her after everything she’d done to him?

The flame popped and sizzled as it rolled over the log, consuming it from the outside in. She felt like that piece of wood. Like there was nothing she could do to stop the fire from devouring her. Like she was trapped with no escape. Like she was destined to be nothing more than a cold, dark shell of her former self, much as that log would be ash by morning.

Thank you.

Thank you
.

Another shiver rippled down her spine. She didn’t deserve Nick’s thanks after the things she’d done. She didn’t deserve anything but vengeance from him. And in no way should he be thanking her for prolonging his never-ending torture.
 

Thank you…
 

“
Agapi
?”

It took several seconds to realize Zagreus was talking to her. Tearing her gaze from the fire, Cynna looked to her left, toward the head of the table where he sat leaning against the armrest of his chair, watching her with assessing, black-as-night eyes.

Blinking several times, she fought from swallowing and showing any ounce of that weakness he thrived upon. “Yes?”

“You’ve had little to say tonight. Do you not think the session went well?”

He was talking about Nick’s torment by the nymphs. Zagreus had given Nick a day to recuperate after Lykos had informed the god his prized prisoner hadn’t healed correctly after the use of that salve. Cynna had been surprised by the break in schedule, but she’d been so tired from everything, she’d spent all day sleeping—another tidbit that had surprised her…that Zagreus had
let
her rest. Usually he gave no thought to her wants or needs.

Her gaze flicked to Lykos, seated across from her. She’d also been dismayed to learn the satyr had
not
informed Zagreus she’d spent the night in Nick’s cell taking care of him. She wasn’t sure what Lykos’s motives were, but neither was she about to ask.

She forced the image of Nick’s torture from her mind. She couldn’t think about it. She’d barely been able to stomach being in the same room. The only way she’d been able to get through it was to zone out like she always did when someone was tortured in front of her. But even now—a full day later—she could hear his strangled groans. She could feel the rattle of his chains in the rock walls around her. And at any moment, she expected her body to break out into a cold sweat—the same sweat that had coated his pale skin.
 

She was a coward. She knew it. For not standing up to Zagreus, for letting this go on, for doing nothing to help those in pain in the dungeons below.

Thank you…

 
“
Agapi
?”

Blinking rapidly, she looked to her left again. To Zagreus’s curious expression.

Holy
skata
. She needed to focus on the here and now. Needed to pull her shit together and remember what was important. Needed—more than anything—to get out of this damn dining room and away from Zagreus before he saw her vulnerability and pounced.

“How the session went is of no matter,” she said in a voice she worked to keep even.

“And why is that, my sweet Cynna?” Zagreus reached for the decanter and refilled his wine goblet. “I saw what those nymphs were doing.” He smirked at Lykos. “No human could hold out much longer against that.”

Lykos chuckled. He knew full well what the nymphs were capable of—if forced.
The bastard.

 
“No human would,” Cynna agreed. “But he is not fully human, now is he?”

Zagreus carefully set his goblet down and pinned her with a hard, calculating look. “What are you saying?”

What was she saying? Something she probably shouldn’t. But she was tired of kowtowing to Zagreus. And his minions. “He won’t break from this. He’s too strong.”

Zagreus’s eyes narrowed and sharpened, and though the fine hairs along her nape stood straight, she lifted her chin, refusing to back down.

After several long seconds, he looked toward the satyr for confirmation. “Lykos?”

Lykos’s heated stare and snarled grin told her he knew she was walking a very fine line and that he couldn’t wait to see her fall off her perch. It also told her he’d be there to claim her when she did. “He’ll break, my prince. It’s only a matter of time. The female does not know of what she speaks.”

Cynna was sick and tired of taking Lykos’s shit. She slapped a hand on the table and leaned forward. “I know more than you will ever know about the people of his world, beast.”

Every muscle in Lykos’s body tensed, and a growl rose in his throat.

Zagreus chuckled and cut into his bloody steak. “Too bad we can’t just sic Cynna on him. She could break any man with that mouth.” He speared a piece of meat with his knife, his humor fading. “Time is the issue here, now isn’t it?”
 

Anger pumped off Lykos in waves. He stared at Cynna with malice and contempt brewing in his dark eyes, but she was done letting him take potshots at her. Especially in front of Zagreus.
Come on, you bastard, come at me, right now.

The satyr’s hand curled into a fist against the scarred wooden surface of the table. He glanced toward Zagreus and back at her, judging his chances.

Zagreus chewed, then swallowed and took a sip of wine as if nothing were happening. He might get rough with her from time to time, but if one of his satyrs laid a hand on her, Zagreus would rip his throat out with his bare hands. She’d watched him do it. And she couldn’t wait to see him do it again, right now.

Zagreus set his wine down. “The nymphs were good, but we’re going to need to step things up. I want to see progress. Lykos, you’ve more knowledge of the nymphs’ secret talents than I. Which one can get the job done?”

Lykos relaxed back into his chair, but fire still brewed in his eyes. A fire seared with the promise of retribution. “Nesaea,” he said, answering the prince but continuing to stare at Cynna. “She’s shown a high pain tolerance. I think she likes giving as much as receiving.”

Zagreus chuckled and cut another bite of bloody meat. “I know a female like that myself.”

That was all Cynna could take. She couldn’t sit here a minute longer and put up with Lykos’s venomous looks or listen to the various ways he and Zagreus were going to use the nymphs to break Nick or continue to ignore either of their derogatory comments directed at her.

She pushed back from the table. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Zagreus’s utensils stilled over his plate. “You’ve barely touched your dinner.”

Her gaze flicked to Lykos. “I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”
 

Zagreus sat back and considered her. “You worry me,
agapi
. I do not like to be worried.”

She hesitated. The last thing she needed was any kind of extra attention from the Prince of Darkness. But what concerned her most was the look in his stormy dark eyes. A look she’d seen before but tried to ignore. One that hinted of some kind of vulnerability. Of a whisper of…humanity.

Which was an asinine thought. There was no humanity in him. He was a devil. One spawned from Hades himself. One who took great pleasure in pain and craved only torture. Finding something…anything…redeeming in Zagreus only signaled just how far he’d sucked her into this mind fuck.

Working to relax her jaw, she forced the contempt from her voice when she said, “No need to worry. I’m just tired. I had a rough night.”

That look lingered in his eyes. Only this time she saw a flash of…

No, she had to be wrong. The Prince of Darkness couldn’t possibly feel guilty for what he’d done to her last night.
 

He blinked, and the look passed. As if it had never happened. Reaching for his wine goblet, he said, “In that case, I suppose I can let you go. This once.” He glanced her way and winked. “Rest up, my love. I need you in tip-top shape for what is yet to come.”

Cynna’s stomach rolled, but she forced herself not to answer. Turning out of the dining room, she told herself she was just tired; that was why she was seeing things that weren’t there. She moved through the stone doorway, heading for the circular stairs in the middle of the compound that led to freedom.

No, not freedom. A miniscule respite from hell. Something Nick would never have.

The suite was dim when she stepped inside and closed the door at her back, the only illumination from the underwater window casting that blue-green shimmer of light across the floor. Her room was one of the larger ones in the compound. It had the same rock walls and ceiling as every other room, but it was softer, more feminine, and she knew Zagreus went to great lengths to keep her well pampered.

A plush white carpet lay across the stone floor; a king-size, distressed, white four-poster bed sat along one wall. Her sitting area was comprised of two oversize chairs and a long couch—also done in white—and along the opposite wall were her books. Books from all over the world. Stories of adventures and romance and mysteries she often read to unwind. Stories that took her away from this nightmare and gave her something else to think about. To dream about. To want.

But that was all they were. Stories. They weren’t real. There was no such thing as happily ever after. She knew that better than anyone.

Pushing away from the door, she crossed the floor and turned into her closet. Like the rest of her suite, it was grand, rows and rows of clothes Zagreus rewarded her with for good behavior. Half of which she’d never worn. More corsets and slutty skirts and foot-cramping stiletto boots? No, thank you.

After unzipping her current torture shoes, she tossed them aside, tugged off her skirt, and managed to unlace the air-constricting high-necked corset enough so she could shimmy out of it. She ripped off the thick bracelets she’d worn to cover the marks on her wrists, kicked it all aside, not caring where it landed, then moved into her bathroom.
 

She flipped on the water and stepped under the shower spray. Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath, then let it out again as the hot water pounded her skin. Aside from her books, this was the only pleasure she got in this place. But even that tiny bit of relief was dimmed when she thought of Nick again in the dungeons. He had no relief there, no chance for respite, not even an ounce of hope to get him through to the next day.

Bracing her hand against the rock wall, she opened her eyes as water cascaded down her face, dragging her makeup with it. Hope was a dangerous thing. Hope had brought her to Zagreus. Hope had convinced her to accept his deal. And hope was keeping her alive, day after miserable day, because it gave her something to think about other than how wretched her life had become.

But that hope was fading. Zagreus wasn’t going to live up to his end of their bargain. She’d seen it in his eyes last night when she’d asked him how things were going on his end. She’d felt it with every strike of that flogger. But mostly she sensed it in what was left of her heart. And the longer she stayed here…the longer she did what he commanded without taking a stand, the more of herself she was going to lose until she really was nothing but a cold, black ember like the wood in his fireplace.