Page 167 of The Wolf King

“I will find my own way to survive.”

“Very well.” He looks at me curiously. “I really wasn’t sure which way this would go, you know? I didn’t know whether you’d accept his proposal or not. Usually I can figure people out, but not you. On the one hand, you’re smart. You’ve endured a lot, and you know how to survive. Yet you’re also mind-numbingly stubborn, proud, and ill-tempered. It has made the outcome of all this harder to predict.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m so sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, darling, I’m not disappointed.” He removes the stopped of his flask, and takes another sip. I swallow, my throat aching. “Thirsty?”

“No.”

He walks toward me, and my muscles harden as he stops inches away from me.

“Don’t be stubborn.” He brings the flask to my lips. “Here.”

I jerk my head away, wobbling on my tiptoes. I try to get purchase on the chains above my handcuffs, regaining my balance.

“Come, now, what are you—”

I grab the chains and lift my body. I kick wildly at Blake. A surprised laugh escapes his lips as he grabs my legs. I swing and grapple with him. Ice-cold water from his flask spills down both of our chests.

“Stop it!” Blake dodges my foot. “What are you doing? I’m trying to help you!”

The muscles in my arms are taut and screaming. My fingers curl around the chains, even as the handcuffs bite into my skin. I jerk against him, determined to land a kick on him at least once. Preferably between his legs.

He drops the flask as I rear up again, and he grabs me. His fingers tighten beneath my thighs, and he jerks me toward him. My core slams against his hard torso, and my legs wrap around his waist. The laughter dies from his expression.

His face is inches from mine. We’re breathing fast. His muscles are taut.

The air in the cell is thick and silent.

And an emotion stronger and uglier than hate surges through my body. It is consuming. Unbearable. Dark and powerful and unfamiliar. I want to tear inside of myself and rip it out.

Blake’s jaw hardens. There is no humor, no amusement, in his eyes. Only darkness.

He smells like night, like the most dangerous part of the forest, like dark forbidden places. His warm breath mingles with mine.

His gaze dips to my mouth and he swallows.

“If you kiss me, I will bite off your tongue,” I whisper.

He staggers back, dropping my legs, and I grip onto the chains to keep my balance. Something like horror or disgust twists across his face.

Without another word, he turns on his heel. He locks the cell door, then disappears out of the dungeons. He doesn’t give me a backward glance.

My shirt is now soaking and I shiver violently. My heartbeat rages. The memory of his grip lingers on my thighs.

I hate him.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

It’s all I can think about for hours. My hatred is so strong that it dulls the pain. It stops my body from completely sagging, and keeps me from freezing. And it urges me to survive this, to beat him. I start to form a plan that might get me out of this mess.

When one of the men who brought me down here earlier walks to the cell door, I lift my head to meet his cold stare.

I will not die tonight.

“It’s sundown,” he says. “I’m to take you to the Wolf King. He awaits your decision.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

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