in her throat at the damning words, but she couldn’t regret them. Not when they had helped the man, not when it would mean freeing them. She forced herself to think of this as Chris and her, how he would force himself on her when she did something wrong, when he was drunk or angry.
Just Chris, she coaxed herself, avoiding his leering crimson eyes.
You know it isn’t “just Chris”, her mind whispered to her. It’s “just some monster who is going to suck you dry and have his way with you”.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced herself to be strong. If she kept the man safe, he would be their way of escape. Just Chris, she chanted, shuddering with disgust as his hand wrapped around the back of her neck, leading her...like some kind of dog.
They were exiting the dark room in time to see the man’s bloodied feet disappear behind a corner. The fact that Auro had the strength to carry a grown man, one twice the size of any she had ever seen before, attested to what she suspected to be true. They weren’t human.
The house amazed her for the second time. It was large, spacious, dark and goth. It was mysterious, terrifying, and made her want to weep. Where Chris’s house had been light and airy, it had still been a prison. This house was dark and terrifying, the exact opposite of Chris’s house and yet so painfully similar.
Torches cast shadows, like dark ghosts reaping their revenge. How many men had died here? she thought. Lyne yanked her along, tearing her gaze away from a portrait of the twins together, a malnourished bloodhound at their feet. In its mouth was a limp rodent, shredded to bits. It looked like a cat.
Jamie swallowed past the bitter taste in her mouth. Her old cat, Ralph, would have howled.
Before she realized what was happening, she was veered into a room and the door slammed shut behind her. A tense, cold silence screamed through the room. Her ears rang. Her hands were numb. Jamie thought she was going to vomit. A cold hand caressed her arm. Her head spun.
“Why would you put yourself on the line,” Lyne murmured softly, “for such a monster? What good has he done you?”
The gentle curiosity was a false mask to what hid beneath his ancient features. His eyes, while conciliatory, were narrowed with slight anger, as if he didn’t want to know but needed to ask. Jamie flinched.
“I wouldn’t know,” she answered, voice cracking. His frosty finger trailed over her shoulder, around the nape of her neck. Shivers spread across her pale skin. Not with passion, but with horror, fear, repulsion. Never in her life had a mans touch affected her so. Even with Chris, it had been discomforting and she had hated him for it, but it had not made her want to die, to curl into a ball and get burned alive with hopes of relinquishing his acidic touch on her skin.
“Oh, dear,” he said, the endearment said with mock understanding. “Sure you do. We warned you about what that monster is capable of. You did not heed our warnings, and instead wish to salvage him?”
Jamie shook her head, unable to explain. Lyne would not take kindly or accepting to Jamie using the man to escape. Her breath halted in her throat as he came around her front, finger still against her skin. The knife-like digit slid dangerously close to the swell of her breasts. Goosebumps rose on her flesh, Lyne taking it as an incentive to go further.
She jerked back, a nervous laugh bubbling out of her throat. “Master Lyne,” she said between clenched teeth, hoping it would make him soften. It worked — his eyes gentled, appreciation for her overcoming his features. So different he was, she thought, when he was not in front of an audience.
He was more vulnerable, more exposed and susceptible.
Lyne curled an arm around her shoulder and led her to the large bed that lie in the center of the room. She started to refuse, wishing that Auro would barge in as she suspected he was going to. The possessiveness that he expressed to his brother was frightening, but a godsend.
Jamie almost shoved him away, but those furious black eyes stole into her thoughts. Swallowing, she let him sit beside her on the plush bed. His arm wrapped around her tightly, his hand dangerously close to the underside of her breast. Bile rose in her