My eyes flickered to Flame’s shackled unconscious body.
“Don’t touch her,” I snarled.
“Then do as I say.”
“Fuck you,” I screamed, trying to throw my voice as loud and cacophonous as I could, to access the magic that had managed to stop a Thirst demon draining me. But nothing happened. Ire sneered as he slammed me up against the stall wall. He held my wrists and pinned them above my head, leaning in and pressing himself against me. Then he locked my wrists over a hook above my head, leaving me balancing on my toes.
He drew a long, thin knife from his belt and glanced at Flame.
“No!” I screamed, kicking out at him uselessly.
Ire crouched beside Flame, his hand sliding along her flank before he pressed the blade to her side and drew a deliberate, shallow line across her skin.
“STOP!” I cried out, kicking and writhing against my chains. “Please, stop! Please!”
Blood welled along the cut. Not deep. But the sight of it made me unravel.
I screamed again, raw and furious, my voice filled with tears now. But he only stood, watching me with cool satisfaction.
“You get it now?” he said, his voice calm, almost gentle. “You’re not the one in control. You do what I say.”
I clenched my fists. I couldn’t protect her. Not like this.
“I’ll do what you want,” I rasped. “Just don’t touch her again.”
He took a step toward me, grinning. “That’s better.”
I turned my face away, breathing hard, trembling with fury. I needed time. Time to figure out his endgame. Time to cast a message to Blake. Time to get Ire to let his guard down.
I’d play along.
For now.
47
Ire led me out of the stable and into a keep, a smaller, den-style group of rooms.
Nearly everything was metal and fur, all objects and linens adorned with his family’s mark. He pulled me by my chain like a dog, and I stoked my roiling anger, saving it for when I could use it. I felt depleted after screaming, as if the metal collar around my throat and the runes carved into it diminished my voice and leeched power from me even now.
The cold of the stone floor bit at my bare feet; my body now felt icy. I tried not to show relief at the roaring flames in the large fireplace.
With a gleaming smirk, Ire placed a hand beneath my chin and forced my gaze up, to the chains hanging from the ceiling, each with a hook attached. He grinned as he selected one and hooked my wrists into it, then lowered it, bidding me to kneel before him with my hands pulled up over my head.
With a scowl at the blade he kept close, I knelt.
“You look good on your knees for me,” he said, smiling still as he pulled the large leather chair carved like a throne closer—close enough to pet at my hair and feel the warmth of the fire, though he was still in his leathers and warm cloak.
I tried to relax and control what sensations I could, focusing on the feel of the warmth of the fire at my back, soaking into my bones.
Ire brought over a glass of ruby red wine and one of water, lifting it to my mouth. “Thirsty?”
Nostrils flaring, I jerked back.
“C’mon, pet. I know you are.” My throat was parched, tongue dry. I hadn’t drunk anything since dinner, and the elevation was getting to me. “And you’ll only be drinking from my hand.”
Cheeks flaming at the demeaning image, I opened my mouth and let him pour the water.
He didn’t stop after my mouth closed, drenching my thin nightdress, and I gasped, pulling back as far as I could, closer to the fire.
