Torn
Page 77

The prince stopped just inside the room, his gaze moving from the bed to where I stood. Based on previous experience, I knew he would immediately pull me under, and once that happened, I would be lost.
“Can we talk for a little bit?” I blurted out before he could do anything.
His brows rose. “Talk?”
I nodded as I folded my arms across my chest. “Yeah, that’s what people typically do.”
“But we’re not people.”
Irritation spiked, and I took a deep, even breath. Keep your cool, Ivy. “I know, but I think talking wouldn’t hurt. I only have a couple more days—”
“Six days if you’re counting today,” he interrupted.
“Thanks for keeping track,” I replied, and he smirked. “But I’m still not . . . comfortable with you.”
He stalked forward, and I tensed as I dropped my gaze, focusing on his booted feet. That would only work for so long. When a fae used manipulation, something changed in their voice. It was like a lullaby, and you had to listen and look. And once you looked, you were a goner.
“I would think by now you’d be comfortable,” he said as he stopped a few feet in front of me.
Loathing of the deepest kind flared in my chest. He hadn’t . . . God, I couldn’t even bring myself to think it let alone say it, and I hated that, because it made me feel shamed, and I had done nothing wrong. Nothing. He repeatedly took advantage of me, proving he was the worst kind of creature, and the only reason I think why he hadn’t gone there was because he really didn’t want me.
The prince was aroused only when I fought him, as disturbing and twisted as that was.
It took a couple of seconds before I trusted myself to speak. “You manipulate me into feeding, and then after that I’m not really me. None of that counts and doesn’t help me get comfortable with you.”
He leaned against the dresser, loosely crossing his arms. “I’m not sure it’s actually necessary to get more comfortable.”
“I disagree.”
“I’m sure you do,” he replied. “I’ve been incredibly lenient with you.”
I blinked, and almost looked up at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I have removed the chain. I have not pushed, and if you think I have, then you haven’t learned anything.” Straightening, he curled his hand around my arm. “I could’ve gotten you to say yes several times over the last couple of days. I haven’t. Should I have?”
“I would’ve said yes only because I’m not in control of myself,” I said, shifting my gaze to the floor. “And I assume the reason why you haven’t done that is because you know it won’t work. Sure, you can get me to agree, but I cannot be under your control, and I am the entire time.”
Drake didn’t respond for several moments and then he dropped my arm. “What do you want to talk about?”
Surprise flickered through me. He was actually relenting? “I . . . I have questions.”
“Then ask them.”
His bored tone irked me, but I let it go. “Do we have to stay in here?”
He was silent for a moment. “I guess not. Where would you like to go?”
Hope sparked alive. “Outside.”
“Not going to happen.”
Out of instinct, I lifted my gaze, but stopped at his chest. “I have been locked in this room and in this house for over two weeks. I would like to breathe open air. Is that really too much to ask for?”
“Yes.”
I unfolded my arms. “Being cooped up in here is going to drive me insane.”
“I thought you already were.”
I was seriously going to throat punch this guy. “All I’m asking for is a couple of minutes outside, in the sun and in the open air. That’s it.”
Drake muttered something in a different language and then pushed away from the dresser. He started for the door and I lifted my gaze. “If you try anything, you will not like what happens.”
Triumph flashed within me. “Also, just a heads up, but threats don’t exactly make me feel comfortable either.”
He held the door open. “And just a heads up, I really don’t care.”
I pressed my lips together as I walked past him, knowing if I ticked him off now, I wouldn’t just be starting all over. He’d have me down in that horrible room and I would be doing terrible things to innocent people.
That horrible cloudy feeling swept over me, and I was cold down to the marrow. Just standing beside him and having to breathe the same air made me feel like there was an iceberg taking up residence in my chest.
I hated it.
But I had to deal with it.
Pushing those thoughts aside to dwell and stress over later, I followed him down the winding staircase. There was an ancient by the front door. He said nothing as he opened it and stepped aside.
Cool air rushed over me, spreading goosebumps up and down my arms. The thin dress was no protection against the chilly temperature, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was outside, and even though I knew I wouldn’t make it far at all if I ran for it, there could be other opportunities. I just needed to . . . behave myself. Ugh.
Drake walked out onto a sprawling, vacant porch. I imagined at one time it had bushy ferns hanging above the railings and comfy chairs perfect for a lazy day of reading. There was nothing human about it now. Just cold. Empty.
A driveway that hadn’t been repaved in ages cut into the dead grass and disappeared into the woods several yards from the front porch. I walked down the old stone steps, stopping in the sunlight. I inhaled, closing my eyes for a few seconds, centering my thoughts. There was a deep, rich earthy scent that reminded me of a pile of grass clippings. I recognized it. I opened my eyes, looking around. I didn’t see it, but I knew we had to be close to the bayou.