The Summer King Bundle 3 Stories - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,131

the umpteenth time. “Well, he suffered. A lot.” A real smile graced my lips then, the kind that probably would concern therapists across the nation. “Cutting off someone’s head isn’t exactly easy.”

One corner of his lips curved up. “But you did it.”

“I did. I had to.” The smile faded from my lips, and the next breath I took felt harsh. “It’s the only thing I had to do. He is—he was…” Trailing off, I shook my head. “He was evil.”

“I know he was.”

The way he said that tugged a memory loose, an image of Aric’s taunting smile and something about… Whatever was there slipped outside my reach. Exhaling loudly, I looked over at Caden.

He had sat back, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. He made the simple seat look like a throne. “What did he do to you?”

The question was a loaded one—one I wasn’t sure I could even answer. My brow knotted.

“You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“He did whatever he could,” I whispered, the glass trembling as more memories wiggled free. “When I didn’t cave or when I…I didn’t scream, he made sure I did. He took his time. The cuts…he did it for hours. I don’t know. He…wanted to make sure I knew he was…in control—when I slept, when I was awake, when I…when I ate or drank.”

“He did something with the food and drink?” Caden asked.

Looking over at him, I saw that his hands had curled around the arms of the chair. “He didn’t…” I twisted, ignoring the dull flare of pain along my ribs as I placed the glass on the nightstand. “He didn’t make eating easy. I’d be…”

“What?” His voice had softened. His knuckles had started to bleach white.

“I never knew how you could desire something so much and dread it at the same time.” Without realizing what I was doing until I did it, I lifted my fingers to my lip, feeling the swollen skin there for the first time. “I’d be so hungry because I didn’t get a lot of…food, but I…I hated eating.”

“Brighton.” His voice was still so soft, but it had a rough quality to it that I didn’t want to hear.

I worked my neck to the side, lowering my hand to my lap. “He just did a lot.

“Did he…?” Caden’s shoulders tensed as if he were bracing himself. “The healer said you had bruising in areas that concerned her. That there may have been other assaults that happened. Ones that she could not see.”

I knew what he was asking, and my breath hitched in my throat. Our gazes connected for the briefest of seconds, and I couldn’t hold his stare. Instead, I found myself inspecting the bandage on my arm. “I don’t… I don’t think so,” I said, picking at the edge. “I mean, I don’t remember him doing something like that. Not even when I bathed or—”

Cold lips against mine. Frigid hands. An image flashed in my mind of Aric kneeling in front of me while I was in the tub. His hand under the water, his icy fingers—

Squeezing my eyes shut, I held myself perfectly still. I remembered that. I’d been glamoured, and he’d touched me as he talked, as he told me—

“You don’t have to think about it,” Caden said, drawing me from the disjointed images. “You don’t have to remember right now.”

“What if I remember later?” I whispered.

“Then we’ll deal with it then.”

We? My gaze darted to him. His expression was stark and…violent. A shiver danced over my skin. He’d let go of the chair and had scooted forward on the seat. The arms of the chair looked strange. Was the wood…dented? For some reason, the dress appeared in my mind, the one Aric had me wear. There was a distinct feeling that there was something incredibly important about it—something I needed to tell Caden, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure it out.

Thinking was hard.

Leaning back against the cushions, I closed my eyes. What if I didn’t remember? What if I did? I wasn’t sure which was worse, to be honest.

I realized in the silence that I hadn’t thanked Caden, and I had no idea if I’d thanked Ivy when she was up here. “Thank you,” I said.

“For what?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“For…for looking for me. For finding me,” I said, fighting the hollowness that was building in my chest. The grief of thinking that no one was coming for me still lingered. “I