In an action borne of the many months when this was my only reality, I stand up and wait for him, hating myself a little for being a good little slave. But I can’t risk one of his beatings, not with Jellybean.
He appears in the darkened corridor, his blue orb of light floating just in front of him. I resist the urge to throw up again. There’s nothing in my stomach anyway.
As he gets closer, I stare at the wall behind him, refusing to look at him.
He comes to stand in front of me, letting out a snigger. ‘Look at you, my pretty, all grown up,’ he rasps.
He pulls my bra down just as he always used to and hums. ‘These are bigger,’ he remarks, squeezing my breasts with his cold, calloused hands.
I grit my teeth as he touches me, putting my mind somewhere else while he fondles and plays.
‘And round with child,’ he says as he leers.
I can almost imagine his dick growing in his pants, and my stomach churns at the thought.
The chime finally sounds, and he stops, muttering something I can’t hear as he pushes me in front of him and leads me down the corridor. I count the steps, and then I count the stairs, and when I hear the jeers from the prisoners, I count some more, but I keep my head held high as I’m walked through and into the main house.
Toramun is even more grotesque than I remember. He’s covered in newer scars and his fingers are twisted.
‘Does Tamadrielle do that to you?’ I ask.
He blinks at me in surprise when I speak to him, and I think that that’s the only reason he answers me. ‘My lord would never debase himself so,’ he rasps. ‘I punish myself thus.’
He does it to himself.
I shudder. If I hadn’t escaped, what would he have done tomewhen Tamadrielle had made good on his promise to give me to him?
When we get to the lab, my steps almost falter, but I don’t let them. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. I also don’t think about Axel or Fluffy and what might have happened to them. I can’t deal with anything except finding a way out of here, for Jellybean’s sake. If Toramun notices that he doesn’t have to carry me in for once, he doesn’t mention it.
Inside, the room is exactly as I remember it. Even the two fae haven’t changed. Tamadrielle stands in the corner, his eyes on me as I’m let through the door.
I’m taken to the conjure circle. I’m not shackled, but Toramun stands just behind me, his fingers brushing against my ass, undoubtedly on purpose.
Volrien and Grinel begin their examination, and it’s as if I never left.
‘Where are her marks?’ Volrien mutters and I see Tamadrielle roll his eyes.
‘She wears a conjure, you fool,’ he says, sounding bored, and with a flick of his wrist, I feel the magick disintegrate, showing them my scars.
They gape. Grinel is the first to speak.
‘They’ve faded,’ he says, touching the marks on my skin.
‘That should be impossible,’ Volrien says, examining me himself.
I stay still until he touches my belly, and only then do I act. I punch him square in the nose, and he falls back with a cry.
‘She is protective of the offspring,’ Tamadrielle laughs. ‘Perhaps don’t touch her there again if you don’t want to be knocked out cold by a demon.’
Volrien’s eyes flash at me while his master mocks him, promising retribution once Tamadrielle isn’t here to stay his hand.
‘How far along is the pregnancy? Will it be a succubus as well?’
Grinel looks thoughtful. ‘It’s impossible to say, my lord. These kinds of demons tend to have many partners. It could be one of the incubi she belonged to …’
I almost snarl at his ignorant words. As if a succubus could belong to anyone.
‘… but it could easily be the get of another supe, or even a human male.’