Page 12 of Wicked Chains
He follows me inside. "The families who send their precious offspring here? They don't give a shit about loyalty, Rose. They care about power. About status. About making sure their bloodlines stay on top. They don't care who's running the showas long as their children come out with the right connections and enough power to secure the family fortune for another generation.”
"So they just switch sides? Just like that?"
"Just like that." He snaps his fingers.
"That's insane."
"That's reality." He drops into my desk chair, sprawling with that casual arrogance that makes me want to both strangle him and climb into his lap. "The Blood Moon probably had deals in place before they even made their move. Half these families were hedging their bets, ready to flip the moment the wind changed direction."
I lean against my desk, arms crossed. "And you? Were you hedging your bets too?"
"I don't gamble unless I already know the outcome." His eyes look over me slowly, deliberately. "Though you do make me want to take chances I shouldn't."
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Looking at me like..." I wave a hand vaguely. "Like that."
"Like I want to eat you up?" His smile is wolfish. “Can't help it. It's in my nature.”
I look away from him, trying to collect myself. The sheer exhaustion of thinking about everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours crashes over me like a wave. Drake is gone. Lucien and Soren have aligned themselves with my newcaptors. And, in an extra fun surprise, I'm apparently bound to a sadistic psychopath who can control my body with a thought.
"You should get some sleep," Soren says.
"Right. Because everything will be so much better after a good night's rest." I push off from the desk and move toward my bed. "I’m sure you have no ulterior motives for wanting me toget some rest."
He stands slowly. “I think it’s for the best if I refrain from… visiting anymore.”
I freeze. "What?"
"You heard me." He moves toward the door, pausing. His eyes meet mine. "I won't be visiting your dreams anymore. Not until you ask."
“Ask.” The word comes out sharp. “Since when do you require permission,Professor?”
"Since now." He opens the door and walks out. "The game has changed, Rose. New players. And despite what you think of me, I'm not interested in being another man forcing himself into spaces where he's not wanted."
The irony of an incubus talking about consent isn't lost on me, but there's something in his voice that makes me believe him.
I stand in the doorway, watching him as he walks the length of the corridor, whistling as he goes.
It’s late but I can’t sleep. I pull a hoodie on over my pajamas and stick my bare feet into my sneakers, then slip out of my room, heading to the stairs.
The fourth floor is dark when I reach it, darker than it should be even with most of the lights off. It’s a moonless, starless night and everything is pitch black looking out the windows.
"Drake?" I whisper, then louder. "Drake, are you here?"
Nothing.
Just the settling of an old building and the distant sound of the building's ancient heating system. I move further into the hallway, bumping into dusty furniture, my fingers gliding along the wall for guidance.
I find the spot where everything went sideways yesterday. God, was it only yesterday? Time feels wrong after my encounter with Abigail. The floor shows no sign of struggle, no evidence left behind to tell the tale of what happened here. Or wherever it was.
There's nothing else up here, living or otherwise. Just darkness in every direction.
With a heavy sigh, I sink down to sit cross-legged on the dusty floor, my back against the wall. The cold goes through my thin pajama pants immediately, but I don't care. I lean my head back and close my eyes.
"Drake," I say to the empty hallway, my voice no more than a whisper. "I don't know if you can hear me wherever you are. But I miss you." The words feel strange coming out of my mouth, too vulnerable for someone who's spent years building walls. "I need you to come back to me. Please."
