Page 154 of Wanted By a King

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he laughs, showing off his yellowing teeth.

Fucking ew.

Still laughing, he reaches for me, but I sidestep him. Unfortunately, I’m not looking down, and my ankle rolls as I trip over something on the floor. All three of them chuckle and grunt with amusement as I fall to my knees.

I look down, realizing it’s a leg from one of the chairs I’ve tripped over. Not taking my eyes off the ugly bastard, I fist it and get back to my feet while swinging it in front of me like a weapon.

“What’s your name, bitch?” the guy fucking Sasha asks.

My lips part, and I’m just about to give them my name. But then I snap my mouth shut, intuition warning me not to answer.

“I said, what’s your fucking name?” he asks again, more menacingly this time.

When I still refuse to answer, he nods to the guy still holding Sasha down. The guy punches her so hard her head snaps to the side, her eyes become unfocused and she groans in pain.

“Alana,” my friend screams desperately from behind me. “I’m Alana and this is… Beth.”

The guy who hurt Alana takes a step back and leans casually against the wall. With one leg propped up, he fishes a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one.

“Now,” he says, taking a drag. “Why don’t I believe you two?”

While exhaling, he waves the cigarette between me and Alana.

“This bitch isn’t good enough for my cum,” barks the guy with his dick inside Sasha.

“I always knew you were high maintenance,” the guy holding her grunts. “She made me nut just fine. But if you’re done fucking her, I guess she’s served her purpose.”

While the guy gives up on fucking her and puts his dick away, the other picks a knife up from the table.

“Last chance,” he says, evilly, handing the knife to the guy who just had his dick inside Sasha. “What are your names?”

“Don’t tell him,” Sasha screams defiantly. “Don’t you fucking dare tell him anything.”

The guy who came at me chuckles darkly. “They don’t need to since you just told us.” He jabs a finger in my direction. “She may be dressed like you bitches, but she doesn’t belong here. Is it just a coincidence that she also matches the description of the princess we’re here for?”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the guy with the knife fists Sasha’s hair and forces her to bend her neck as far back as possible.

“I hate to sound ungrateful, honey,” he says, licking her neck. “But your ass isn’t that great.”

I can only watch as he lifts his knife and drags it across Sasha’s exposed neck.

No.

Sasha.

No.

Fuck.

No.

Oh. God.

Sasha.

Alana screams and pushes me out of the way, lunging at the guys while swinging a knife of her own.

Where the hell did she get that from?

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