by Marcy Jacks
He couldn’t. Van still followed him.
Sorin snapped, yelling back at the man even as he kept walking. “Will you fucking stay away from me?”
“Can’t do that. Sorry. Your daddy wants me to make sure you’re telling the truth about Lucian downstairs. One word from me and it’s bye-bye to the asshole downstairs.”
Prick.
“Whatever.”
Sorin had made it around the corner when he felt the hand at the back of his neck. It gripped hard, claws digging in. Sorin gasped, the sudden pain in his weak spot hitting him hard as he was pulled around and slammed against the wall. Behind a stone column, while they weren’t exactly hidden, they were out of sight enough for Van to lean down, his hand still around Sorin’s throat, hissing.
“You and I both know that bullshit story you told your pops is exactly that. I know you were mated to Lucian. I know you whored yourself out to him for protection.”
“Fuck you.” Sorin glared up at the man, but his breath was cut off when Van gripped tighter.
He could still breathe, but it felt as if he breathed through a tiny hole in his throat, a hole that got smaller by the second as Van pressed their bodies together.
“Here’s what I think,” Van said. “I think you were using Lucian, in the beginning. I think you gave your ass up to him because you wanted to be kept safe from little old me, but after being fucked enough, you started to like it. I think you mated with him for real. A genuine love match. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Sorin swallowed hard when Van pressed ever closer. There was nothing sexual about it. Sorin could tell the man was just trying to intimidate him with the lack of space and show of strength.
And it was working.
“Aren’t I?” Van asked again.
Sorin clenched his teeth. It hadn’t been like that at all. He’d wanted Lucian because he’d had feelings for him, and yes, there was an element of being grateful for the protection, but Sorin had never used the man.
They’d fallen for each other so quickly, learned about the natural mating so quickly, there hadn’t been time for that sort of thing, even if that was what Sorin wanted.
He shook his head, still glaring at the man. “You have to work harder than that if you want to impress my dad.”
Van rolled his eyes, releasing Sorin’s neck.
“You should take a shower. You smell like you were dry humping the prisoner downstairs. Oops, did I say that too loud? Hope no one heard me.”
Sorin hated him so much.
Much as Sorin wanted to gasp and choke for breath now that he had it freely, he just barely stopped himself from clutching at his throat as he sucked back each precious gasp of air.
No. He had to stand tall and look his enemy in the eyes. He didn’t do it for his father’s reputation. He did it because Lucian, and the memory of what they had together, was more important than letting this asshole control Sorin with his anger.
“You’re just jealous that Micah never wanted you, and now that Seth threw you out of the house, you’re proving that you never gave a shit about the omegas who feared me.”
Van smirked at him. “Yeah, you keep thinking that.”
Sorin frowned. Really? That was Van’s response?
Sorin didn’t get it at all. How could this man still claim to have any moral high ground after all this? Was he planning something else? Or was he just that blind to what he was doing?
“You’ll get the omegas killed if you lead my father back to the house.”
“And why would you care about that?” Van slapped Sorin on the cheek a couple of times then pinched his nose. Sorin really wished the man would stop doing that. “The son of Varrick shouldn’t be worrying about what happens to a bunch of lowly peasants, should he? Everything will work out in the end anyway.”
Yeah, he was either planning something else or he was justifying something way worse.
“I’m going to my room,” Sorin said, pushing passed Van. The man let him go. “Don’t follow me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I got what I wanted.”
Sorin stopped short. He half turned, glancing back at the man. “And what would that be?”
Van grinned at him. “To see the look on Lucian’s face when you hit him. Fucking brilliant.” Van brought his fingertips to his lips, made a sort of kissing motion, as if the entire thing had been delicious to watch through the cameras.
“Could’ve done without seeing you whoring yourself out, though. I mean, don’t you have any self-control? The poor man is wasting away and starving and you were all over him like some kind of pervert, but I’m also not all that shocked that you get off on suffering.”
Sorin sneered at him, and he turned and kept on walking.
He made it to his bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. Sorin did his usual sweep for bugs. He even checked the lightbulbs on the lamps to make sure there was nothing left behind that his father could use to spy on him.
When satisfied everything was clear, Sorin let himself sit on his bed.
He hung his head in his hands, closed his eyes, and thought of Lucian’s face.
His pale, sallow face. The feel of his palm cracking against it, how it looked, as if the powerful alpha he loved, who could do anything, was wasting away.
Sorin had to get Lucian out of here. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it with the cameras downstairs watching everything. He needed to shut them off. Or even temporarily disable them somehow.
Sorin rubbed his face. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing. He’d never been good at lying to his father or keeping secrets.
Miles and the few other omegas slaves who’d liked Sorin seemed to think so. He’d protected them enough from his father with simple white lies, hiding little mistakes they’d made, covering for certain actions and absences.
This was big. This was different on such a scale that he couldn’t possibly describe it.
The man he loved was a prisoner down in the basement, and the only reason why he was alive was because Sorin had told his father that he needed Lucian alive until he could find a way to break off the mating.
That not only gave him a limited amount of time to figure something out, but it also left him with the very real problem of what he was going to do about Van.
The man was like a real snake. He should have been a snake shifter instead of a dragon because this was utterly ridiculous. The man had a skill of getting beaten when it came to the horrible things he did but of also getting into the worst possible places, places Sorin didn’t want him to be.
At any moment, he could tell Varrick that it was a bullshit claim. The mates of dragons did not simply die if their mates were killed.
Depression and suicide could be a factor in some people, but Sorin would not simply drop dead if Lucian were to be killed today.
His heart slammed just thinking about it. Sorin brought his hand up to his chest, as though he could somehow slow the organ down.
He was sweating. His mate would hate him. Sorin could feel it. He needed to act well enough that even Lucian was fooled. There could be no secret messages. No hopeful looks. Nothing to give Lucian the impression all was well because his life depended on his reactions to all of this, as well.
Sorin almost laughed at the pain such a thought brought to his chest, except, with the way his throat closed, laughing was somewhat difficult.
Sorin had told his father that he needed to find a way to break off the mating before Lucian could be killed. He’d said that to buy himself and Lucian some time, but with the way things were going, if Seth didn’t get here soon, Sorin might end up hurting his mate enough that the mating would be broken off anyway.
Sorin sucked back a heavy breath, released it, and then did it again. He inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to banish the pain from his chest.
It wouldn’t go. The throbbing ache clung to him as though it was lodged inside like glue.
If their mating was destro
yed because of this, then Sorin would accept that. So long as it saved Lucian’s life in the long run, then it wouldn’t matter.
Sorin still had so much to atone for. Breaking his own heart to set Lucian free would be the least he could do.
Chapter Three
Another twenty-four hours passed. At least, that was what Lucian thought it was. He was usually good at measuring time whenever he was awake for it, and he didn’t often sleep for more than six hours.
Someone came with more bread and water. His bucket was changed again, and then, the most shocking, several vampires in black came down into his cell.
Lucian growled. He rose to his feet.
If he was going to get a beatdown, then he was going to start off on his feet.
“You move and we won’t hesitate to use force, lizard,” sneered one of the men. He had his typical black mask on, so Lucian had no idea if this was a human, an alpha shifter, or another dragon.
When James had come to live at the house, he’d revealed there were more slaves amongst the guards than anyone would have thought.
Lucian wasn’t interested in finding out if this was one of those slaves. He just nodded, deciding to hold still as he was surrounded.
If this was something different, he would find out in good time, and he was in no place to be fighting anyone or anything at the moment anyway.
The men unshackled him, but his wrists were yanked behind his back before his wrists had the chance to feel any relief. Worse than that was the collar they put around his neck.
It was almost enough to make him want to start fighting back, to make him struggle to get away.
He didn’t. He held still, praying he wasn’t being led to his death as he felt another smaller chain behind hooked from the back of his throat all the way down to his wrists.
There was very little slack, and his wrists were pulled up high. Relaxing them only a touch pulled at the collar, nearly choking him.
He was to stand at attention then.
The staffs came out next. The man clipped the ends to rings in his collar. A few of them chuckled and muttered amongst themselves on how he looked like a chained dog.
Lucian didn’t care. If their opinions meant anything to him, or anyone, they wouldn’t be the fetching boys.
“All right, lizard, start moving.”
Like he had a choice. Still, Lucian moved.
Where they took him, he wished he didn’t have to go. They brought him to another empty room, one that felt colder than his cell, and it was damp.
And had a drain on the floor.
He knew what was coming when the men stepped as far back from him as they could without releasing their staffs. He felt the pain of the water hitting him full force before his body registered the cold.
He gritted his teeth, but he couldn’t hold back the shocked cry of pain. Even as he knew what this was for, the water pressure still fucking hurt.
It was bath time, it seemed. That meant he was likely going up to see Varrick, and possibly Sorin.
Lucian held that thought close. If he got to see Sorin, this would be worth it.
* * * *
Sorin blinked at his father. Apparently he couldn’t hold back the shock on his face because Varrick noticed as he pulled his whiskey glass away from his lips.
“You don’t approve?”
Sorin pressed his lips together. Focus. He had to focus.
“It’s not that I don’t approve, Father.” He had to be careful. Everything he said had to be worded to carefully. “It’s just that…the trials could kill him, and there’s no telling if he can be broken at all.”
“True.” Varrick set his glass down on the small round table between them. They were both seated in their own chair in front of the fire, as if they were having a normal father and son chat.
This was Varrick’s version of that, so Sorin figured it wasn’t all that far out there to think of it as such.
“I still hate that we lost James. He was a good servant to have. Loyal. Shame what happened with the dragons, but if we can get another dragon on our side…” Varrick made some twirling motion with his hand. Sorin wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. “Well, either way, it will be nothing but good for us. We can use him against Seth. Possibly negotiate a surrender so I can get my property back.”
“You don’t surrender,” Sorin said.
He hadn’t said it to be clever, but his father smiled at him, as if he was pleased that Sorin had picked up on that.
“Good boy. You know me well. No, there will be no surrendering, but with Seth out of my house, I won’t have to worry about the damages too much whenever I send my men there to raid the place.”
Varrick snorted. “They’re probably pissing and shitting in the halls like savages now.”
“They’ve kept the omegas working. The house is…mostly clean.”
Varrick brought his glass back to his lips, as if he wasn’t at all pleased by that description either.
His father was quite particular about these things.
“Anyway, I think you’re misunderstanding how long it could take to break an alpha dragon. Lucian…I was given to Lucian because of his strength. He’s weak now, but he won’t easily bend the knee to anyone.”
“Ah, but what if the lizard bent the knee to you?”
Sorin tensed. His mind flew at a thousand miles per hour, and he still couldn’t understand where his father was going with this. “What do you mean?”
Varrick shrugged. “Something I’ve been considering. You want to keep the dragon alive, very well. I’ll do it for you because you are my only child and I will not have you dying because some dragon…well, never mind that. But if the dragon has this same connection to you that you have to him, then perhaps we can use that to our advantage.”
A brief spark of hope lit up in Sorin’s chest. He immediately crushed it under the heel of his boot. His father suggested this because he wanted to use it for his own gain. There was nothing to be hopeful in that.
Sorin growled low in his throat. “How would you like me to use him?”
“Simple. If we put him through training and he can see you on the sidelines, then that should be enough. That’s how the mating works, is it not? The dragons see their mate and they are inundated with extreme strength and drive. If he fights for me, even if only for your sake, then I have a nice new weapon.”
His father was clearly underestimating how this worked. Sorin would have as well at one point in his life, but he knew that wasn’t how the mating worked.
Lucian might be mated to him, but he still had free will. He could still make decisions for himself. Short of Varrick threatening Sorin’s life, there was no reason for Lucian to fight for Varrick.
Especially if the reward was something as minor as just seeing Sorin sitting on the sidelines from time to time. Never talking, never touching.
His father wouldn’t go that far. He didn’t even like the fact that Sorin had been taken by a dragon to begin with, and it had taken so much explaining and convincing before Sorin was able to get his father to agree to not have Lucian castrated for having sex with Sorin.
Sorin still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to convince the man, and he’d very nearly given himself and Lucian away with the begging.
Maybe Varrick thought the emotional distress was brought on because of the mating, either way, Sorin was very careful to not bring up the subject again, while watching out for signs that his father might want to continue down that path.
This was the part of this game that made Sorin’s blood run hot through his face. He wanted to be sick because he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to react or what he should say. Worse, he didn’t know how the things he didn’t say would also have an impact.
And they would. His father was excellent at reading people, and so it was no shock to Sorin that his father sensed something wrong in Sorin’s reaction to this news.
“Hmm, Van said you would not approve.”
&n
bsp; “Van suggested this?”
“He did.” Varrick nodded. “Having a few dragons on hand is quite the idea. I wish I’d thought of it sooner, but I had assumed I could only keep James’ loyalty since there was part wolf in him. He was supposed to see me as his alpha, to be loyal, but you know how that turned out by now”
He shook his head at himself, as though disgusted he could have ever been so green around the gills.
“Fool that I was.”
Van. That motherfucker. What was he planning with this? Was he trying to get Lucian killed?
Stupid question. Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he? He hated Lucian, and he hated Sorin. The man was just going about this carefully because he didn’t want Varrick to turn his angry attention onto him.
Sorin swore to himself that one day he would end Van’s life. He wasn’t as strong as Van, but he would figure out a way to kill that man with his bare hands if that was what it took.
The bastard. The utter son of a bitch.
“I suppose it’s a good idea, no, it is a good idea,” Sorin amended. “I think I’m only struggling with it because the mating is still there.”
“No luck breaking it?”
Sorin shook his head. “Not yet, but I know it can be done without Lucian’s or my death. It will just be painful when it happens.” Sorin looked at his father. “But when it happens, I will feel cleansed.”
Varrick smiled softly at him, nodding. “That’s good. The things that are good for us usually are painful, are they not?”
Sorin nodded. “They are.”
He hadn’t touched the glass of whiskey his father had put out for him during this entire conversation, but now more than ever, Sorin needed it. He reached out for the drink, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep from downing the entire thing.
Everything he said and did, as well as didn’t say and didn’t do, sent off messages to his father.
Sorin took a healthy mouthful of the whiskey and swallowed. He wanted all of it. He wanted the burning down his throat to settle into his belly as fast as possible so he could forget about this pain building up within him.