our moods and actions as he always did, turning us feral and vicious. Energy sparked the air with animalistic lust. Groans from other cages joined the women, inmates pleasuring themselves under Warwick’s influence and power.
“Fuck you,” I whispered to him, despising how he invaded everything in this place—even my sexual fantasies.
Squeezing my eyes, I focused on Caden, my legs opening wider. As if claws shredded through my best friend’s likeness, another physique surged through the remains, crawling between my legs. “Fuck you back.” A feral smirk hitched his lips. Dominant. Brutal. Warwick’s image took over with sharp clarity, his fingers tracing down my form, a tongue flicking my nipples.
I gasped, a groan curving my back higher.
The weight of his build, the wetness of his mouth, his hair tickling my bare stomach. It felt so real. My imagination craved relief so intently I could really feel hands caressing my skin, fingers shoving my underwear over, pushing inside me, curling.
“Gods,” I hissed, squeezing my eyes tighter. Letting myself fall into the fantasy, I no longer cared it was Warwick who completely dominated my thoughts. I didn’t focus on his face, but I could feel his presence, the muscular arms and hands, knowing exactly where the tattoos covered his skin. His insanely huge physique pressed into me like he was really there. As if his lips were grazing my skin, his teeth nipping, his fingers pumping faster. My hands no longer were in my control, knowing better than me how to seek my pleasure. Pulsing and squeezing, a moan emerged between my stunted breaths, his name rolling softy from me. My imagination was so good, I could almost feel him open me wider, his hand taking me to the extreme until I cried out, the desire almost turning painful with sheer bliss.
I heard the women bellow in the distance, their pitches bleeding together, tearing through me as I hit my peak, as if all of them were one voice. Mine.
My mouth parted, an explosion rocked me, and I no longer felt I was in my body but soaring through the prison, slipping through the bars of his cell to him, like he was calling for me. I could feel myself skating over his body, licking and biting, my tongue wrapping around him, taking him into my mouth.
A deep voice boomed, rattling the bars on all the cages. The sound of him roaring his pleasure sent more desire through me, tensing my muscles and holding me captive for several moments before I plummeted back to Earth.
Gasping for air, I blinked up at my own ceiling.
Holy. Shit.
This certainly was not my first or even hundredth time pleasuring myself, usually thinking about Caden, but it had never felt like this. Not even close. Maybe the deprivation of joy or sexual connection here heightened it, and the fact that the entire place was getting off together multiplied the energy.
I would take any explanation except the one nibbling at the back of my head.
Warwick.
It wasn’t merely because I imagined him…but because he had been here with me.
“You okay?” Tad shuffled behind me in the breakfast line, his lids narrowed on me curiously, drawing me out of my reprieve. My cheeks burned with what I had been just thinking about.
“Yeah, why?” I grabbed two trays, handing one back to Tad, clearing my throat.
“Something’s different.”
“More dirt, maybe?” I shrugged one shoulder.
“No.” He tilted his head, his gaze zeroing in on me like he was trying to peel back my soul. “It’s strange, but it’s as though I can almost see an aura. I can definitely feel it right now. Like it’s buzzing and glowing.” His bushy brows strung into one long caterpillar. “It’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever experienced before. Reminds me of auras after sex.”
Oh.
Shit.
I twisted around, shoving my tray at the fae serving the watery oatmeal. Twice this week I had been denied food, so Tad shared his toast with me. But tonight was my next fight so I hoped they would allow me to eat.
Maybe it would be my last meal.
Survival was a strange thing. You learned the one way to keep going, to endure, was to compartmentalize. The memory of Aron was tucked away in a box in my mind, where I filed all the torture and torment too. I took every moment as it came, not thinking about anything except the present moment.
Even though my life was on the chopping block again, I behaved normally. I got up, peed, washed my face, and now