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 his 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.