“My father. But I’ve never been one to waste the opportunity to prove a point.”
“And that point would be?”
“That’s between me and my brother. You’re merely the tool I’m using to get my point across.”
“If you kill me, Tiernon will kill you.”
Something I can’t place flickers in Rorrik’s eyes, followed immediately by surprise.“You truly believe that, don’t you? I’m sure some part of Tiernon believes it too.”
“Kill her,” someone shouts, and I stiffen.
“What do you think, little novice? Should I give them what they want?” Rorrik asks aloud.
“Mercy!” someone else cries, and Rorrik lets out a hum.
“You looked so fierce stalking into this arena. What were you hoping to achieve?”
“I told you, Hester drugged Maeva.”
“If you’re lying, my father will make me kill you.”
Make.“As if you wouldn’t enjoy it.” My pulse races, and Rorrik drops his gaze to my neck once more.
His distraction allows me to free my arm, and I aim for his face again.
He laughs, capturing my wrist and bringing it to his mouth. Full lips pull back from white teeth, revealing horrifyingly sharp fangs.
“I’m not lying,” I blurt out. “Hester drugged Maeva. It’s against the rules.”
Rorrik’s eyes turn so cold I shudder.
“That may be the case, but I still have to teach you a lesson.”
“You don’t.”
His gaze flicks up to the pulvinar, before meeting mine. “Oh, I do.”
He’s implying he doesn’t have a choice.
My vision speckles, the fear all-encompassing. Rorrik’s breath teases over my wrist.“Relax, darling, you may even enjoy it.”
Prey. He’s making me prey. Flat on my back, trapped and at his mercy, in front of thousands of people who will spread the word. Who will announce my weakness to anyone who will listen.
“Don’t.”
“Hmm. Beg me some more.”
I press my lips together and Rorrik leans even closer.“Beg.”
I won’t.
“It wouldn’t change a thing anyway.”He studies my face.“I could make this feel good, but something tells me you’d hate that even more. Shame.”
His teeth sink into my wrist, and I howl at the insult. The crowd roars.
I buck, straining, writhing like a desperate animal. Rorrik merely holds my wrist tighter, until the backs of my eyes burn.
Don’t you dare cry, I order myself.
