Page 80 of The Hunted

She expected him to leave her there chained to the wall, but even as he turned away, his hand snagged her wrist. He held her hand high and eyed the brand on her skin of the two arrows, as though he knew exactly what he was looking at and the significance.

“Which would be worse to you and your people,” he asked, “killing you or keeping you?”

He didn’t expect an answer. Not when he dropped her hand, and the pile of flowy, white fabric to the stall floor.

“Get dressed. You’ll take breakfast with me when a maid deems you suitable. Try not to fight—I’d hate for this to end sooner than I’d like, my little mermaid. Even if I haven’t decided exactly how I’ll kill you, I still will … it’s just a matter of time.”

Wrong again.

And once more, Arelle didn’t correct him.

• • •

Eryx

“The trousers, waistcoat, and overcoat you chose for the day will be at the end of your bed, Prince, and if you need help—”

“Did she fight the maid?” Eryx interrupted.

The male servant who usually helped him ready for the day quieted at the other side of the den attached to his chambers. He didn’t like the stable house as much as he did The House of Miller, but it served his purpose of moving her—Arelle, his mind practically screamed; now that he knew her name, he certainly couldn’t forget it—farther away from the sea. He thought perhaps the closer she was to it, the more she might fight to get away.

But who was he to say?

The servant cleared his throat. “No, my lord, I was told she behaved well.”

Eryx nodded, surprise fluttering through him. He didn’t turn away from the window as Arelle was led from the stables by the two guards he’d hired to watch her from a safe distance. The maid who had helped dress her in the gown he’d brought came out of the stables right after to trail close behind.

Even from his position up high, safe in the chambers he would use for the duration of their stay at the stable estate, he could plainly see the gown fit her well.

Someone had thought to brush her hair into manageable curls that shone in the cloudy daylight. He realized in that moment how hard this would be for him.

Not because he wanted to kill her.

But because he’d like to fuck her.

Again.

“Would you like help dress—”

“Leave,” Eryx ordered.

The man didn’t ask for the prince to repeat himself.

Eryx was grateful.

At least alone, he wouldn’t have to pretend like he didn’t have a raging hard-on from nothing more than watching that mermaid be escorted from the stables to the house. Closer to him. Which was a problem, considering how much he seemed to enjoy that. He found great pleasure in having her this close—so close, in fact, that she was entirely under his control now.

So, why did it feel like she was somehow controlling him? Why did she make his emotions run wild, or perk his cock up from only the sight of her?

He owned her.

Not the other way around.

Eryx would have to make sure she knew it, too.

Her voice, though?

It was still singing in his mind.