“Don’t tell me I’ve broken my toy already.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Okay, maybe some of the fire is still there.
“We really need to work on your insults. Maybe start giving them out in Italian.”
“Mangia merde e morte.”
“You know, that does sound a lot better. But I’m not in charge anymore, no need to wish for my death. My brother is giving you a pass to leave your room and come down for dinner.”
I arch an eyebrow at him; it feels like a sick joke.
I look down at my wrinkly, smelly dress. I’ve showered and hung out in my towel for a few hours, but this is the only thing I have to wear.
“Can I have something else to wear?”
“No,” he answers quickly.
I glare at him, and I swear mischief sparkles in his dark green eyes.
“Then, I’ll pass.”
“You don’t want to see the men you have wrapped around your little finger?” He clicks his tongue. “They’ll be heartbroken. I’ll break the news gently,” he snickers.
He’s fucking enjoying this. It makes me want to do the opposite of what he wants. Plus, I could possibly see a window and maybe get a better idea of where I am. Even if I hate them, at least I wouldn’t be alone.
“I’ll come to dinner. Just give me a few minutes.”
“Straight to the dining room. There are guards posted around the perimeter. You can try to escape, but you won’t get far. I’m not negligent like your brother.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I just nod my head.
Finn wants to play mind games. Then I’m fucking all in.
“We’ll await your presence,” he says, leaving my cage door wide open.
I won’t deny that it feels like a trick. But I need to get out of this room, and I need to make a point while doing so.
Finn can say that Cillian, Logan, and Declan care about me, but I know it’s a lie. You don’t do what they did to me when you care about someone. A prisoner is still a prisoner, even if the captor plays nice every once in a while.
Hit them where it hurts, I tell myself.
I grab the hem of my dress until I’m completely naked. I don’t have a hairbrush, so I’m sure my hair’s a fucking mess—finger combing can only do so much. But I know how potent my scent is without my suppressants.
I feel like I’m going to pass out with every step down the hall—everynakedstep. I swallow, hoping that I’m not walking down to my own assault. But if they want to treat me like a piece of property, I’ll act like one.
As soon as I enter the dining room, the looks I receive are absolutely worth the risk I’m taking.
Maeve drops a tray, one of Cillian’s crutches falls to the floor, and both Logan and Cillian begin to growl.
I hold my head high and try to act unaffected. Like there isn’t a pit in my stomach from hunger and from the stake they pushed through my heart.
When I look at Finn, there’s nothing but a feral grin on his face. He’s enjoying that I’m acting like this. He probably pushed me to it, if I’m being honest. I can’t even be mad knowing the mayhem I’ve caused. He pulls out the chair at the head of the table for me to take a seat.
I place my bare behind on the seat, the wood cold against my ass, and I do my best not to make a noise. He helps me push it in before taking the seat next to Logan.
“Where are your clothes?” Cillian grates out.
It takes everything in me to meet his gaze, his eyes trying to stare at my face instead of my exposed breasts.
