Torn

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I stared at the mosaic tile of the shower stall. Could I do it? The chain hung heavily from my neck. It would be easy to use the chain, far too easy, but even in my darkest moments after Shaun’s death, I’d never seriously considered ending my own life.

  This situation was different though, because it wasn’t grief or depression guiding the thought. My very existence was a means to an end, and I couldn’t continue living like this, being forced to feed on humans. I also knew that eventually Drake wasn’t going to stop.

  A sob shook my shoulders and I stepped back, pressing against the tiled wall. Pressing my hands over my face, I struggled to hold it together. My entire body trembled. I wanted out of here. I didn’t want to spend another second in this place, but what I wanted wasn’t going to happen.

  “Pull your shit together, Ivy.” I gripped the chain and forced myself to turn off the water and step out of the shower. “You can deal with all this crap later, but you need to get your shit together.”

  Repeating those words over and over, I slowly stitched myself back together, because I had to—because I wasn’t going to wake up and find myself safe. There were gaps in the stitches, gaping holes, but it was the best I could do. The only chance I had to get out of here with my life and my sanity was by following my earlier plan while keeping it together. That was the only thing I could control now.

  ~

  Faye brought me a sandwich that evening, but I wasn’t hungry. Anxious energy upset my stomach, and every time I heard footsteps outside the door, I expected Drake to come through. But he hadn’t.

  Yet.

  She avoided eye contact with me as I picked at my food, managing to eat the slices of honey ham only because I knew I needed to eat something. When I couldn’t swallow anymore, I set the plate on the nightstand and looked up to find Faye by the window.

  I remembered seeing her yesterday when I went into that room and also when I left it. Or at least I think I saw her when I left. “Are you going to hook this chain back to the bed?”

  Her shoulders stiffened as she finally focused on me. “I have not been told to. I hope I will not, but I guess it will depend on you.”

  My blood pressure shot up. “I’m not sure how being chained to a bed really depends on me.”

  “It shouldn’t,” she agreed, surprising me. “But it does.”

  Staring at her for a moment, I shook my head. “I . . . I don’t get you.”

  Her silvery-blonde eyebrows rose.

  “You know what I am, right? Not the halfling part or why I’m here. You know I’m an Order member—”

  “And it would be your duty to murder me if you saw me on the streets?” she interjected. “Yes. I know.”

  Holding the end of the chain, I scooted over so my feet were on the floor. “Then why are you nice to me?”

  She stepped away from the window. “Do I need a reason?”

  I looked around the room. “Uh. Yeah. All things considered.”

  Faye frowned, and she still looked, well, magical. All fae did. They were stunning in an eerie, unreal way. “Is it so hard to believe that when I see you or anyone like you that my first inclination isn’t to feed off you and kill you?”

  Again, I looked around the room. “Considering where I am and where you are, uh, yes.”

  Gliding forward, she stopped a few feet from me. She started to speak, but the bedroom door flew open, and the ancient called Valor stood there.

  “The prince wants her brought to him,” he announced, pushing the door open further.

  “No,” I said.

  Faye nodded and then stepped back. “If you come willingly, I will not have to lead you.”

  What seemed like such a small token of freedom was far more powerful than even I could have realized. My throat tight, I nodded and rose, holding the end of the chain. I wouldn’t be led to wherever the prince was. I would walk there of my own free will.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to her as we followed Valor through the door.

  Faye didn’t acknowledge my words, and we were silent as I followed them down the hallway. We weren’t going toward the stairs. I had a sinking suspicion that we were going to Drake’s bedroom, and I really didn’t like that idea.

  We stopped in front of a set of large double pocket doors. Valor knocked once. The prince called out, “Come in.”

  Valor slid the doors open, then stepped aside. Faye walked in, then me. The first thing I noticed was the giant, four-poster bed in the middle of the room, one even larger than the one I’d been sleeping on, and then I noticed what was in the bed, and didn’t notice anything else after that.

  Drake wasn’t alone.

  He was on his back, arms folded behind his head, and a woman was on top of him, riding him backwards, cowgirl style or whatever they called it, and that woman was that fucking bitch Breena, and she was completely hairless. Everywhere.

  Holy sex show, this was so not what I was expecting.

  They were so naked. Like, I was seeing everything. Everything. Breena lifted her hips, and I got a good idea of what the prince had going on downstairs. Then she slammed back down, her lips curved into a grin, and her eyes, unfortunately not permanently damaged, focused on us. The prince groaned in a way that told me we’d come in at the tail end of their escapades.

  “Jesus,” I gasped, stepping back and bumping into Valor. “Do you need us to come back or something?”

  “No.” Drake’s chuckle was deep and husky. “I was expecting you.”

  “Seriously?” I squeaked.

  He grasped Breena’s slim hips and lifted her off of him. She landed on the bed beside him with a jiggling bounce, and I quickly looked away, not wanting to see anything else. “Did she eat?” he asked Faye.

  “A little,” she responded, her voice surprisingly level, as if holding conversations with the prince while he was having sex was something normal. Maybe it was.

  “If you don’t eat your dinner, you don’t get dessert,” the prince stated.

  My gaze shot to him. I didn’t want to look, but I kind of had to, because it was like a train wreck of sex right in front of me. “Yeah, I don’t want any dessert.”

  “You sure about that?” He reached over, curling his hand into Breena’s mass of dark hair. He dragged her up onto her knees. “Do you want dessert?” he asked her.

  Breena’s gaze shifted to him and she licked her lips. “Of course I do.” Placing a hand on his thigh, she leaned into Drake, pressing her front to his side. Then she licked the side of his face. “Do you know who else liked dessert?”

  I tensed, knowing what she was going to say. “Do you want your eyes gouged out for real this time?” I said.

  Turning her head to me, she smiled. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “I think I’ve already proven that I can.” I returned her smile as my hands tightened around the chain I held.

  “Enough.” Amusement colored Drake’s tone. He looked over at Breena. “You know what your mouth is better used on.”

  “Nice,” I muttered.

  Drake eyed me as Breena got down to making a better use of her mouth. “As if your human male doesn’t feel the same.”

  “Actually, I’m pretty sure he respects me,” I shot back.

  “Respect?” Drake laughed as he stroked Breena’s head like she was a damn pet. “What does that have to do with it?”

  I almost couldn’t believe he was asking that question, but then again, I wasn’t entirely surprised. “Everything.”

  “Is that so? You know what I find amusing?”

  “No.” But I was betting he was going to tell me.

  He leaned back, giving Breena more room to do her thing. “You stand before me as if you will still be reunited with your human lover. I find that amusing. I also find it amusing that you think he would have you back even if I hand delivered you to him in a pretty bow.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath.

  “If he felt the same way about you, don’t you think he would’ve found h
is way back here? That he would be storming the doors of our compound? We are well hidden, but where there is a will, there is a way.”

  His words were like a well-placed smack in the face. Drake didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t know what Ren and I had shared, but those words still stung. Those words still spoke to the fear and insecurities rooted deep inside of me.

  “I don’t need him to save me,” I said, stating the truth.

  He smirked. “You can’t even save yourself.”

  Resisting the urge to pull a Princess Leia and charge over to the bed to wrap the chain around his neck like he was a slimmer version of Jabba the Hut, I asked rather haughtily, “Did you have me brought here just to talk about Ren while you have sex?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Breena laughed. Well, it was a muffled sound, because her mouth was otherwise occupied. Her head was bobbing and her hand was between her legs, and my face was on fire. Holy canola oil, this was . . . wow, there were no words. I looked over at Faye and she was staring at the floor. Maybe that was what I should do.

  Totally going to do that.

  But I looked over my shoulder at Valor instead. He was avidly watching the show on the bed, and I really just wanted to throw myself out the nearby window. Since I couldn’t do that, I stared at the floor and tried to ignore the sounds coming from the bed. I didn’t dare look up until I heard Drake groaning again.

  Pulling Breena’s head out of his lap, he then tossed his legs off the bed and stood. Buck-ass naked, of course.

  I thought of Tink. He would freak if he was here right now. A weird giggle started to rise and I squelched it down.

  He walked over to a chair and picked up a robe, slipping it over his shoulders. He left it hanging open, of course, because why not? I mean, what was the point since I’d just seen—

  “It’s time.”

  Those two words jerked me out of my thoughts. A chill tiptoed down my spine, quickly turning into dread. “Time for what?”

  The prince walked toward us. “It’s time to feed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I could barely keep track of time.

  Minutes turned into hours, hours into days. I think ten days had passed since the first time I’d fed on that woman, but I wasn’t exactly sure. Every ounce of my being was dedicated to keeping my head above water, but with every passing minute, I drowned a little more.

  A sick and disturbing ritual started, one I wanted no part of but couldn’t fight. No matter what I did, I was dragged under.

  The prince would show every day, sometimes in the afternoon. Those days were better because I didn’t spend hours waiting for him to show, knowing that he would and fearing what was to come. Part of me would rather get what was coming over with. Other times he showed in the evening, and I was wired after hours of dread eating away at me.

  But he always showed, and I was never taken to his room again.

  I tried to resist the manipulation by keeping a distance between us, since I hadn’t been chained to the bed again. But it didn’t work. There was nowhere for me to go, and I . . . I didn’t remember leaving the room with him after that.

  I only remembered bits and pieces. Going down the stairs. Sitting on the woman’s cot and wondering why her veins were so dark. Then I fed. I remembered feeling good and then not feeling anything at all, then falling asleep. Each time I woke up, I was full of energy—life that I’d been forced to steal from someone else—and then I showered. I always showered. Details of the time after the feedings were vague shadows I didn’t dare examine too closely.

  Every day was like that.

  By around day twelve or thirteen, the chain was removed, but the band remained as a reminder—a stupid, pointless reminder, because if the prince wasn’t there, I was sleeping or pacing. The door was locked and there was no busting through the heavy wood like a ninja. No one else came near me.

  Not Breena.

  Not Faye.

  Food was always on the nightstand when I woke. I had no idea if it was Faye who brought it to me or one of the other fae, but it was always a sandwich of some sort. That was the only food I saw all day, and sometimes I wasn’t hungry, because I . . . I was already full from a different source.

  When I had complete control over my mind and body, it took every ounce of willpower that I had in me not to claw his heart out with my bare hands. It would’ve been hard and messy, but there was a damn good chance I could have done it. The hate building inside me burned brighter than a thousand suns, but even with that rage, I always, always felt cold. With each passing day, it was like I was filling up on the inside with ice and shadows. The only time I didn’t feel this way was when I slept.

  I felt nothing then.

  Once he explained to me why I slept after . . . after feeding. The way he described it reminded me of how you want a nap after Thanksgiving dinner, but I also thought it sounded kind of like any time you were high. Eventually you came crashing back down and your body sort of gave out. There was no hangover or recovery for me though. All I needed was sleep, and I was better than before, as sickening as that was.

  I didn’t think of Ren during these times. I couldn’t allow myself to, because when I thought of Ren, I worried about how safe he was. I knew the prince couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t break his promise, and that meant he couldn’t indirectly cause Ren harm, but that didn’t stop any other fae from deciding a way to please their leader was to serve up Ren’s head on a platter. And even though I tried not to allow it, Drake and Breena’s words haunted me. Those words messed with me, just like they’d intended, and I thought maybe if I wasn’t stuck in this room, being forced to do horrible things every damn day, I would have the strength not to give in to those words.

  I didn’t know anymore.

  But in the minutes and hours I was alone, pacing the length of the room, no matter how hard I tried not to, I mourned Ren, because if I made it out of here alive and was reunited with him, I still couldn’t see a happily ever after for us.

  On the sixteenth day, the prince arrived in the afternoon. I was ready for him, restless and antsy, standing by the dresser in another dress, much like the first one, but in a deep forest green this time. I don’t know what the fae around here had against pants, but I really looked like the chick from that Disney movie now.

  The prince stopped just inside the room, his gaze moving from the bed to where I stood. Based on previous experience, I knew he would immediately pull me under, and once that happened, I would be lost.

  “Can we talk for a little bit?” I blurted out before he could do anything.

  His brows rose. “Talk?”

  I nodded as I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah, that’s what people typically do.”

  “But we’re not people.”

  Irritation spiked, and I took a deep, even breath. Keep your cool, Ivy. “I know, but I think talking wouldn’t hurt. I only have a couple more days—”

  “Six days if you’re counting today,” he interrupted.

  “Thanks for keeping track,” I replied, and he smirked. “But I’m still not . . . comfortable with you.”

  He stalked forward, and I tensed as I dropped my gaze, focusing on his booted feet. That would only work for so long. When a fae used manipulation, something changed in their voice. It was like a lullaby, and you had to listen and look. And once you looked, you were a goner.

  “I would think by now you’d be comfortable,” he said as he stopped a few feet in front of me.

  Loathing of the deepest kind flared in my chest. He hadn’t . . . God, I couldn’t even bring myself to think it let alone say it, and I hated that, because it made me feel shamed, and I had done nothing wrong. Nothing. He repeatedly took advantage of me, proving he was the worst kind of creature, and the only reason I think why he hadn’t gone there was because he really didn’t want me.

  The prince was aroused only when I fought him, as disturbing and twisted as that was.

  It too
k a couple of seconds before I trusted myself to speak. “You manipulate me into feeding, and then after that I’m not really me. None of that counts and doesn’t help me get comfortable with you.”

  He leaned against the dresser, loosely crossing his arms. “I’m not sure it’s actually necessary to get more comfortable.”