Chapter Eight
Tori's POV
My eyes slowly opened to the sharp light pushing through the curtains. I groaned under my breath as I tried to sit up, my muscles protesting instantly.
My entire body ached, deep and heavy, like my bones had been crushed and forced back together. My fingers curled into the sheets while I pushed myself upright, my jaw tightening when a dull pain shot through my ribs.
"You are awake."
That voice.
My shoulders stiffened immediately. My brows pulled together as I forced my head up, and there he was. Sitting there like he owned the air I breathed. Watching me.
My chest tightened at the thought. Had he really been sitting there the whole time? Watching me sleep like some kind of guard or predator waiting for his prey to wake.
I dragged in a breath and forced strength into my limbs, pushing myself to sit up properly even though my back screamed in protest. I refused to look weak in front of him.
"You seem stronger than expected," he said calmly, standing from the stool and moving closer. His voice was flat, but there was something else beneath it, something sharp and observant. "Who would have imagined you would survive."
My lips pressed into a thin line. He really set up the entire thing.
He sat on the edge of the bed beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight. My body instinctively leaned away before I could stop myself. His palm came up anyway, cupping my cheek like he always did.
My brows furrowed, and I swallowed hard. "I have to survive."
His thumb brushed lightly over the scar on my face. I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers tightening into the sheets.
"Good," he murmured. "Taking the last position in anything would make our deal useless. Those girls lives are still in your hands." The corner of his lips lifted into that same cruel smirk.
I clenched my jaw, "Where have you been taking the girls to? The ones who lost."
"Does that really matter? The deal was for me not to kill them."
What if he was doing something way worse to them?
His hand slid down slowly, resting on my waist before pulling me into his chest. My body tensed instantly. My shoulders stiffened, and I tried to twist away, but the movement pulled on my injuries and I winced, a soft gasp slipping past my lips.
His eyes flickered down to my reaction.
"This pain," he said quietly, his voice dropping, "is nothing compared to what I have planned for you."
My breath grew uneven. I turned my face away the moment his gaze lingered on my lips, my heart thudding painfully against my ribs. I refused to let him see the panic that threatened to surface.
"I promise I will break you," he whispered near my ear, his tone cold yet strangely patient, "and you will beg me for more, my princess. Just wait."
My fingers dug into his arm, not to pull him closer, but to push him away. My chest rose and fell rapidly as soon as he finally let go of my waist.
A deep sigh escaped me the second the distance between us returned.
"See you later," he said lightly, waving his hand like nothing had happened, like he had not just threatened to ruin me piece by piece. Then he turned and walked out with that same relaxed smile on his face.
I stared at the door long after he left, my nails pressing into my palms.
Fuck him.
********
Days passed, and my body started recovering faster than it should have. I hadn't been given medicine and no proper treatment too, Yet the bruises were slowly fading, the cuts closing like my body was forcing itself to keep up with whatever nightmare this place was.
I was still staring at the faint marks on my arm when a knock pulled me out of my thoughts. My head turned sharply, and I saw Nicole standing at the entrance.
He looked calm. What was his motive this time around?
"Are you in for a walk?" he asked.
My brows lifted slightly. I wanted to refuse. Every part of me wanted to stay in this room and avoid all of them. But the walls were suffocating, and the silence in here was worse than their presence outside.
I nodded once.
I slipped my feet into the soft leather sandals placed beside the bed and followed behind him quietly. My steps were slow, careful.
The long hallway echoed with each movement, and I could feel his presence in front of me even without looking up.
The silence between us grew heavier with every step. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my gown before I finally spoke.
"What about the third brother? I haven't heard of him since I got here."
He did not stop walking.
"You mean Riven?" he replied casually. "He is dealing with rogues at the border. It sounds like you are eager to meet him."
I was just extremely curious to know the kind of person the third brother was.
I scoffed softly, shaking my head. "Never. Kael is already a menace to me. I wonder what you are too, and why you suddenly want to walk with me."
He slowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "My goals are the same as my brother when it comes to you," he said. "My approach is different."
My brows pulled together. A cold chill ran down my spine.
"I am enjoying whatever is going on between you and Kael," he continued, his tone still calm. "You will give up soon enough. It is amusing how easy he is going on you."
My stomach twisted. If this was 'easy', I didn't want to imagine what difficult looked like.
After a while, the ache in my legs grew worse. My steps became uneven, and I sucked in a breath, trying to hide it.
He noticed.
"I shouldn't have brought you outside," he muttered, suddenly grabbing my wrist. My eyes widened as he pulled me toward a quiet corner and guided me to sit on a low stone pavement.
Before I could react, his fingers lifted the hem of my gown slightly.
My breath hitched. My shoulders stiffened, and I grabbed the fabric, but he had already seen the bruises spreading across my leg.
"Come with me," he said, his voice colder now. There was distaste on his face. He was obviously not okay with whatever he was seeing right now.
Before I could protest, he slid one arm behind my back and the other under my knees, lifting me effortlessly. My eyes widened in shock, my hands instinctively grabbing his shirt.
"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped, my brows knitting together.
He did not answer. He simply carried me through the hallway.
When we reached his room, he pushed the door open with his foot and placed me gently on the bed. My heart was racing now, confusion and tension twisting together in my chest.
He turned without a word and locked the door. My breath caught.
He walked back toward me slowly, his gaze scanning my body. "Take it off," he said.
My brows shot up. "What?"
"The gown," he clarified flatly. "Or do you want me to do it myself."
My jaw clenched. My fingers trembled slightly before I slowly pulled the gown over my head, leaving me in just my singlet and panties. My cheeks burned, and I crossed my arms over my stomach instinctively.
His eyes darkened slightly when he saw the bruises scattered across my body. He did not smirk. He did not tease. He simply reached for a small jar on the table.
He dipped his fingers into the ointment and sat beside me.
My body stiffened when his hand touched my shoulder. My breath grew shallow as he slowly applied the ointment over the bruises, his fingers moving lightly across my skin.
My eyes fluttered shut for a second before I forced them open again. I refused to relax.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
My throat felt dry. "No," I lied, even though my fingers were gripping the sheets tightly.
He moved closer, applying the ointment on my arm, then my side. Each touch sent a soft shiver down my spine, and I hated that my body reacted at all. My brows furrowed, and I bit the inside of my cheek to control myself.
His touch was different from that of his brother and that was what made me hate him more.
"Face me," he said.
I hesitated, then slowly turned toward him. Our faces were suddenly too close. My breath hitched, and my eyes flickered down before snapping back up to his.
The air between us grew light.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and my heart started pounding violently against my chest. My fingers curled against the mattress as he leaned in slightly.
My eyes closed slowly, waiting for what was about to happen.
My eyes snapped open. My hand pressed against his chest, stopping him before our lips could meet.
My brows lowered, and I shook my head stubbornly, even though my heart was still racing wildly.
"What is going on here?" Both our heads turned sharply.
Nicole straightened immediately, his expression turning cold again. "Riven," he said aloud.
The third brother was back.