“Keep your eyes down.”
Another leash looped around my spine. Another invisible knot tying me closer to the ground. I didn’t dare lift my gaze.Didn’t dare meet his eyes in the mirror. I saw enough without looking.
The reflection of him. Tall. Immovable. More force of nature than man.
And me.
A figure hollowed out in black silk. A thing dressed up to be paraded.
I adjusted the hem of the dress. My fingers brushed the fresh scabs on my thigh. The ache throbbed deeper with the contact.
Pain made it easier to remember who I was now.
Not Cloe Woods. Not Camille’s best friend. Not even Wolfe’s broken pet. Just obedience. Wrapped in satin. Breathing on command.
Wolfe turned away without another word. Without another glance. Because I didn’t need approval. Only permission to exist.
“Come.”
I followed. Silent. Shoes in hand. The walk to the elevator felt longer than it should have. Every step an exercise in remembering the rules.
Head down.
Mouth closed.
Breath shallow.
The ride down was silent. I watched the numbers blink by through my lashes. Not daring to lift my head. Not daring to breathe too loudly. At the lobby, a car was already waiting.
Black. Polished to a mirror shine. A beast crouched at the curb. Royal lounged in the backseat. Suit open at the collar. Smile already lazy and dangerous. His last words resounded in my headthis is Wolfe’s test.I lifted my gaze to him for a second catching the dangerous glint. He expected me to fail…hoped I’d fail.I swallowed hard. That wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t care if I had to bleed all over the goddamn floor. Loyal sat beside him. Hands folded. Posture too stiff. Tension bleeding off himin waves that prickled my bruised skin. Neither spoke as Wolfe guided me inside.
I slid into the backseat without needing to be told.
Royal’s gaze dragged over me immediately. Slow. Calculating. The dress hid the bruises. The collar didn’t. Not from them. Not from men who already knew what it cost to own me.
The air inside the car was too warm. Or maybe I was. Sweat clung to the backs of my knees. My ribs ached under the pressure of sitting upright. The collar chafed against the base of my throat when I swallowed.
I kept my eyes down. Focused on the carpeted floor. On the neat hem of Wolfe’s trousers. On the faint scuff on Royal’s expensive shoes. Anything but their faces. Anything but the look in their eyes.
The look that said:
You chose this.
The car pulled into traffic. I folded my hands in my lap. Tucked my elbows in. Made myself smaller.
Breath.
Hold.
Breath.
Hold.
Every inhale hurt.
Every exhale felt like surrender.
The car hit a bump and pain flared through my ribs. A gasp clawed up my throat. I swallowed it down. Because pain wasn’t permission to speak. Because pain wasn’t special here.
