Her eyes go wide, and she takes another step back, hitting the wall. “No. Don’t.”
“Take off your top.”
“I can’t. Iwon’t. You can’t make me.”
“I can.” I close the distance between us in two long strides. She flinches, pressing herself harder against the wall, but there’s nowhere for her to go. “I could strip you myself and hold you down until they open the door. I could make you scream and they’d only hear sounds of pleasure. Is that what you want?”
Tears fill her eyes. “Please don’t do this.”
“I don’twantto do this.” My voice comes out harsh. “Do you think Iwantto touch you? You … a human female.” My lip curls. “I’ve had centuries of human hands on my body, mouths on my skin, and being made to perform on command like a trained dog. Do you really think I’m eager to do it again?”
She stares at me, her lips parted, the tears spilling over onto her cheeks.
“I’m doing this for survival. Nothing more. Now, take off your shirt and get on the bed, or I’ll do it for you.”
Below us, the guards have finished talking to people in the common room, and are moving toward the stairs.
Her hands shake as they lift to the laces on the front of her tunic. She’s crying silently, tears running down her face, and her fingers keep tangling in the ties. She’s taking too long.
I reach out and brush her hands aside. She flinches at the contact, but doesn’t pull away. I unlace her shirt quickly, the same way I’ve undressed countless human noblewomen before, although with far more speed involved than seduction this time.
The fabric falls open, revealing the shadow between her breasts. She’s breathing too fast, her chest rising and falling rapidly, while rage is a living thing in my chest, fed by every set of laces I’ve undone, every body I’ve had to service.
I hook my fingers under the material and slide it off her shoulders, then unlace the tightly fitted undergarment beneath. She makes a sound, a small protest, as the fabric falls down her arms, baring her breasts. They’re pale, soft, with nipples tight from cold or fear. She moves to cover herself.
I catch her wrists. “Don’t.”
“Please—”
“They need to see a woman who’s in control. If you’re covering yourself like a frightened maiden, they’ll know something is wrong.” I keep my grip tight on her wrists, holding them at her sides. “When that door opens, you need to look like you’re lost in pleasure. Can you do that, or do I need to do it for you?”
She stares at me out of those wet eyes, her lower lip trembling.
“Alleria.” I snap her name, and part of me notes that it’s the first time I’ve said it. “Can you do that?”
“I … I don’t know.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“Get on the bed.” I release her wrists.
She doesn’t move, standing against the wall, half-naked and trembling, tears falling down her cheeks.
I take her arm and guide her toward the bed. She moves like a sleepwalker, her feet dragging, her body resistant but not fighting. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, I push her down onto it.
She lands on her back, arms instinctively coming to cover her chest again. I shake my head, catch her wrists, and pin them above her head.
“Don’t,” I say again.
I kneel over her, my knees on either side of her hips, one hand wrapped around her wrists. Her breasts rise and fall with each panicked breath. She looks terrified.
The boots are almost at the top of the stairs.
I think of the first woman who ever selected me from the cages. Lady Ashworth. Of all of them, her name is the only one I remember. She purchased me a year after the Sealing, two weeks after my capture. I was wounded, weak, still reeling from blood loss. She was wealthy, bored, and curious about what a fae could do in bed.
She used me, night after night, her hands on my body, her commands in my ears. It was through her that I learned to bury everything I felt beneath a mask of compliance. I learned how to make my body respond. How to smile, and moan, and pretend it was real.
There were thousands more after her. And every single one of them added to the fire burning inside me. I fed it with every degradation. Stoked it with every touch I didn’t want. Banked it, hoarded it, and let it grow because someday …somedayI would be free again.
That day is here, and if I have to use what I suffered to remain free, then that’s what I will do.
