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He’s even more striking awake.

My heart races, not just in fear, but at the undeniable pull of his energy, a magnetic force that draws every eye in the room to him, even mine against my better judgment.

It’s not until a lycan guard shoves me forward that my surroundings crash back into focus. With my wrists still shackled behind me, I hit the stone floor hard, teeth clacking together, pain radiating up my spine.

A loud smack resounds through the room, and I peer up to find one of the lycan guards clutching his nose before he turns savagely to the vampire who struck him.

“Was that fucking necessary!” the vampire guard snarls.

“Is this her?” Lycan King Zander asks, his tone bubbling with amusement as he waves off the guards. I keep my head down, focusing on the ground, knowing one wrong move could cost me everything.

“I’m not sure yet. She had a blindfold on,” the Vampire King answers, and I swallow hard.

“Strip her,” King Zander snarls, and I gasp, my gaze snapping up to meet his as guards move toward me from every direction.

“Is that necessary?” the Vampire King asks, voice low and dangerous. His jaw flexes when King Zander doesn’t bother to look his way.

Three guards approach me, each one a bigger lycan than the last. I take a step back, then another, and my butt hits the table.

“No,” I breathe. My pulse detonates in my ears.

One of them smirks. “You heard the king.”

I spin toward the nearest door, but a hand clamps around my arm like iron. Pain skates up my shoulder, and I scream. Without use of my hands, I twist and bite his arm, drawing blood. He hisses in shock and backhands me.

The fall knocks the air from my lungs. As I struggle to my knees, a hand seizes my arm and hauls me back up. The Vampire King is staring at the guard holding me, shaking his head. The guard releases me as if some unspoken message passed between them.

I’m not given another chance to escape. Another lycan guard grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back.

White-hot agony sparks behind my eyes. I snarl through my teeth and drive my heel down on his foot. Bones crunch. He roars, loosening just enough for me to wrench free.

Gasps ripple through the hall. Somewhere above the noise, I hear the scrape of a chair, and the Vampire King moves like he might stand. Zander lifts a hand, lazily, and the room stills again.

“Stop taunting her,” the Vampire King states.

Zander doesn’t blink. “Where is the fun in that? She wants to play savage? Let her. I want to see how long she lasts against my men.”

The guards come at me again.

The second lycan catches my bound wrists, twists, and I cry out as my joints strain. I slam my forehead into his cheek.

He curses, stunned, but the third guard is already behind me, arms locking around my waist, pinning my spine to his chest. My feet kick off the floor, useless.

There’s a sharp tug at my sleeve, and the fabric tears.

Another rip. My shirt is gone. Cold air and humiliation hit me at the same time, and I feel sick.

My pants are next. Fingers hook into the waistband.

I kick behind me, catching someone’s shin. He grunts, barely flinching, and drags me tighter against him until he’s crushing the air from my lungs.

“Hold her still,” another snaps.

They wrench my arms back harder, forcing me to arch as the fabric slides down my hips.

I surge forward in a last, desperate lunge, but the grip in my hair jerks me back again, ripping a cry from my throat.

Within seconds, I’m stripped bare except for my underwear, and I can’t even move my arms to cover my breasts. A hand on my neck forces me onto my knees.