Page 30 of The Price Of Possession

“On those fucking knees.” He leans in. His hot breath fans over my cheek. His tongue darts out tasting my damp skin. “Remember who owns you. This could be a whole lot worse, sweetheart.”

My eyes narrow. He pulls me from the shower onto the plush white rug outside the door.

“I'm not yours,” she seethes. I click my tongue and roll it along my cheek. “Not mine? Shit, sweetheart, we're all animals down to our core deep into our bones. It's primal. Written in our DNA. So to say you're not mine? Well, my name burnt into your flesh says otherwise." He bends down to lick along my burnt skin. I hiss out a breath. Just as he reaches to unzip his jeans a shout from outside the door echoes through the hallways.

“Kieran!” a male voice booms. Mortensen.

Kieran instantly tenses. He bites down hard on his tongue ring. The metal scrapes along his teeth.

He curses under his breath before flashing me a warning glare. He exits the bathroom, cracking the door. I contemplate screaming for help, but it would do me little good. Mortensen would undoubtedly drag me back to Void where I would be further subjected to their cruelty. Part of me prefers Kieran's depravity over theirs. I remember the endless footage on their big screens inside the Void. I've been exposed to all sorts of inhumane abuse over the years, but none as perverse as they have going on in the

Void. A part of me truly believes they've killed some of those girls unintentionally.

They're nothing but objects to the Elites. A hole to fuck and use at their disposal. Whispers reach my ears from the doorway. I pluck the discarded towel and drape it over my body. I keep quiet while crawling along the wet tile floor on my hands and knees over to the door. It's ajar just enough to eavesdrop.

“Where is she?” Mortensen's disgruntled timbre booms. “Away. Doesn't matter, does it?” Kieran's smart mouth scoffs.

“We had a deal. A temporary toy for you while you take your place. Enough of the games. It's time to man up.” Deal? What deal?

“She would have been perfect for the Void, Kieran. You have special privileges, but don't misunderstand, I can revoke your power at any given moment. If you don't take your position, I will return her to the Void where she belongs. She's not pure. Do not be stupid and breed with it. Your obsessions always lead to your boredom. She would be better suited in the Void. She's harrowed and broken down just as we prefer. The perfect toy.” Mortensen's voice is sharp and cutting.

Kieran says nothing still.

My heart drops. Is that why I was picked? For my weakness? This whole time I thought I earned this scholarship on my own. With my hard work. Was it all a lie? “You know damn well I choose these girls based on their past, Kieran. If you desire a good fuck, there are plenty of Elite woman available to you. You get your pick with your status,” he continues, seemingly disgusted with who his son chooses to stick his dick in. I quietly scoff. Kieran has fucked half the school but I'm the one not good enough to be his whore. I feel sick to my stomach.

“Nah, I'm fine with my decision,” Kieran finally responds simply. His cocky attitude shines through as always.

Mortensen sighs. “I assumed this was a temporary fixation, just like it has been with your other conquests. You will follow in my footsteps. You will take an Elite female and you will return her to the Void.” He grows increasingly agitated.

“It is temporary. I'll take my place. Get off my dick about it,” he gravels out, seething through his teeth.

Kieran's bitter deception slams into me. He's the enemy. He never wanted to save me, he wanted to break me down before tossing me back to the wolves. All so he can ascend into his role as the head of Grimshaw. He's a snake, just like Mortensen.

“I have admonished Zain of wrongdoing with the local police. As of right now, the Andersons believe Jax wandered into the crypt on his own volition.”

“Better hope they believe that shit,” Kieran snorts. Footsteps recede and Kieran's bedroom door laps close. I shuffle away from the door and sink into the far corner like a cowering animal. I need to remain calm. If I have any chance of getting out of here, I need Kieran to believe I don't have an inkling of his devious deception. The bathroom door snicks open and Kieran's sparkling emeralds fixate on me. His eyes are heavy. “Get dressed.” He throws one of his T-shirts and boxers at me.

“Where am I sleeping?” I rub the fabric along my fingertips. His scent wafts into my nostrils.

He looks over his shoulder sporting a devious grin as he plods back out to his bedroom. “With me, sweetheart.”

Fucking shit. I'm running out of options. Sensibility calls for me to return her to the Void, stall Mortensen until graduation, get Clara to safety, then fuck off and never see the bastard, or her, again. Only, she's caught in my web. I can't let her go. I think I need some help. I want to dive deep into her broken past and steal it for my own. It does something to the devious beast in me.

My father’s words resonate deep within my inner tomb. He is sharpening his blades, readying himself for the final blow. His moves are always calculated and thought out. Unlike him, I thrive off chaos. We are diametrically opposed. How I'm his son, I'll never fucking understand. If I can keep him off my dick for a while longer, I can wash my hands of all of this bullshit. Nothing pisses him off more than my I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. He wanted an obedient son to take over his empire, instead he got me. Too fucking fitting. I snort at that.

Clara's sleeping form crowds the bed. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow beside me. Her scent clouds my senses. The argent glow of the lamp catches on her golden strands. Her breathing has finally evened out. I knew she'd eventually drift to sleep from all the excitement. Her body needs to heal after the shit I've put her through. It's definitely a risk keeping her here under Mortensen's nose. Thinking things through aren't my forte. My hand drifts along the bedsheet. I run my thumb and forefinger along the ends of her filaments. My thoughts run rampant with devious dark ways to keep her beside me which is utterly ludicrous. I've never slept next to any bitch. Ever. I don't do feelings bullshit.

Nah. Much easier to get off and send them packing. It gives these bitches the wrong idea, but something about her fragile nature intrigues me. It would be criminal not to use her until she collapses at my feet. She's a jagged puzzle. I want to construct her pieces, only to watch their galvanic collapse from my calloused hand.

My phone buzzes on the end table, disrupting my sick, idealistic ideations.

Another text from Clara's professors. Having her texts routed to my phone has made it easier to hide her from the world. I told all her professors she's out sick. Very few know about her involvement in Void. It helps she has no family or close friends other than Vesper. Could be a hell of a lot worse if she did. Admittedly, I haven't thought far enough ahead on what the next step will be, but fuck it, I'll roll with the punches. My phone flashes with a phone call. Zain's name floods the screen.

“Yeah, what's up, man?” I keep my voice low. I slip out of the bed and stalk out toward the wet bar. I could use a heavy hit and stiff drink.

“You got shit figured out? Wait, is Clara—”

I suck my teeth. “Yeah, man, she is.” I refuse to let him finish the sentence. That would make shit too real. This shit isn't anything. To me at least. She's a fun distraction. I dig in my jeans to pull out a joint. I need a heavy hit after today's bullshit. I lean against the bar. A bottle of Absinthe sits waiting for me. I always get pleasure from drinking away Mortensen's money. He keeps this shit well stocked even though I piss through it within a week when I'm under his roof.