Page 140 of Coal Hearts

I merely reached out, took his hand, and squeezed.

He gave me a gut-wrenching shrug.

Henri’s team better hurry up because the longer I remained here and the more I got to know these poor forgotten, badly beaten slaves, the more fury kindled within me.

If Henri didn’t save them, I would.

Punishment or no punishment.

Pain or no pain.

I would trade my life for theirs because I couldn’t let them keep hurting, keep surviving.

I’d been brought here to help.

In any way possible.

And I’ll do whatever it takes...

Chapter Nineteen

...............................

Henri

––––––––

I FELT HER BEFORE I saw her.

Twisting in my chair, my eyes flew to the lantern-strewn garden, searching the flock of slaves currently moving toward us.

Where is she?

I skimmed the stunning beauties and ignored the handsome men, seeking the one jewel who—

Ah, there she is.

My body relaxed and tensed as I set eyes on her. My heart sped up and slowed as I drank in the short, sexy nightgown she wore. My blood heated and iced as my gaze dropped between her legs where the shadow of her sex was barely covered by white lace.

The murmur of male appreciation percolated around me.

Whispers of what they’d like to do to Ily. Chuckles of how hard they’d fuck her when my weekend exclusivity was up.

I was a sick and twisted man, but hearing what some of the others would do to her given half the chance...Jesus Christ.

My hands balled on the table.

Tonight would be utter hell.

Not only was I running on dregs, but I had to perform like a man who’d just been let out of a prison cell of his own making. After my unfortunate vomiting episode in the shower, I’d crashed on my bed and dreamed horror-filled fantasies of tying Ily up and taking her all over again.

As much as I still had power over my thoughts and actions while I was awake, it seemed my subconscious was well and truly ignoring me.

The villain within me grew bolder, colder, hungrier.

The guffaws of men elbowing each other at the mention of tag-teaming Ily in the dungeons kept me clinging to the rapidly fraying hero inside me, but the idea of me being the one to chain her, bruise her, fuck her—

Christ, stop it.