“Wait,” she murmured, but he was already stalking toward the door, jet black wings fluttering angrily.
“Wait,” she said again, watching him leave, the door slamming shut behind him.
Her body thrummed with the lack of release, reverberating like the string of a bow that had been fired. Her head ached from where he’d pulled her hair, and she massaged her scalp to ease the tenderness. She crawled up the bed, leaning against the headboard and hugging her knees to her chest as tears continued to spill down her cheeks.
Everything was in disarray, and she had no one but herself to blame. Something in her was damaged beyond repair, probably had been since the very day of her birth when she’d killed her mother. A curse had been placed on her that had turned her wicked, lustful, her sinful nature impossible to control.
This went beyond desiring sex outside of marriage, to desiring something dark and primal, things that should horrify her to even contemplate. She’d gone into the woods seeking it, which had led her here.
Isabelle sunk onto the bed, curling into a ball and wetting her pillow with tears. She focused on the easel, the blank canvas mocking her, glowing yellow from the flames of the hearth. If she squinted hard enough, she could almost pretend she was back in her cottage in the woods, on the outskirts of Marilet.
CHAPTER 11
SLEEP HAD NOT COME easily, though at some point Isabelle had drifted off, a singsong voice jolting her to awareness.
“Sweetheart…”
She rubbed her eyes, still not used to the perpetual dimness from the lack of sunlight, focusing on Rul as he made his way over to the bed.
He was carrying a tray, setting it beside her and looking on in anticipation. A croissant and café au lait, her favorite breakfast, though the gesture did little to subdue her anguish.
“I heard about yourpunishmentlast night,” he said as she picked at the pastry, and she let out a loud groan.
“For two people who pretend not to care about each other, you certainly make a habit of telling each other everything.”
Rul scoffed.
“I never said I didn’t care about him. Of course we talk to each other. Especially when it comes to our playthings, of which you have been quite an intriguing one.”
She took a sip of coffee, the milky decadence clearing her head slightly.
“You really have him agitated. I’m impressed! He’s so… impassive, it’s good for him to get riled up every so often.”
“I haven’t done anything,” she hissed with more vehemence than she had meant.
Goddess, just a few days in this hellish place and she was acting like a beast, forgetting herself. Begging to be ravished by a monster.
“Oh, you’ve done something,” he replied with that typical air of nonchalance.
She tossed a pillow at him, which he caught easily, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“Why is he like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, cocking his head.
“So…aggressive.”
“I thought you liked aggressive,” he said, scooting the tray to the side now that she’d finished and sitting on the bed next to her. “You liked it when I was fucking your throat, when Bellinor chased you through the woods…”
“Then why is he trying to be nice?” she asked, exasperation pitching her voice high.
“You don’t really want to be ravaged all the time, do you? Such a naughty little thing.”
Rul grabbed her hips and slid her down the bed so she was flat on her back, straddling her waist in aninstant. His hands met hers, linking their fingers together and pressing them into the mattress above her head.
“If he wants to be sweet to you, why don’t you let him?”
Isabelle swallowed hard, ignoring the knot welling in her throat.
