Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)(66)

Pressure clamped down on my chest. “Neither should you.”

His eyes drifted shut as he leaned into me. His lips moved, but there was no sound. I had no idea what kind of mental state he was in, but if it was anything like how he looked, it couldn’t be good, and I wanted to tear the room apart. I had no idea if he remembered anything about our conversation the last time we saw each other or if he hated my guts because of what I was and the position it put him in, but I didn’t care if he loathed me. I couldn’t bear to see him like this.

“I told you he was still alive,” Drake said, “but him staying alive depends solely on you.”

Pressing a kiss to Ren’s temple, I then looked over at the prince. He stood a few feet from us, my chain dangling from his grip.

Once he had my attention, he smiled coldly. “I will let him go in exchange for you.”

I stilled, not sure I was hearing him correctly. “What?”

“I will let him go, right now, if you agree to be with me.”

My lips parted as I sucked in air. His offer echoed in my head, and I was almost too horrified to consider it. He couldn’t be serious.

“If not, I cannot promise that Breena will make things . . . as pleasurable for him as she has in the past,” Drake said.

I flinched at the insinuation.

“No,” Ren groaned, lifting his chin. My gaze shot to his battered face. “You can’t . . .”

“You can,” Drake stated. “If you want him to live, you can.”

“This . . . this is coercion,” I whispered, looking up at him.

“Not if you truly decide to give yourself to me freely.”

Bile rose swiftly as I stared at him. He was being a hundred percent serious. To save Ren, I had to give myself to the prince . . . and possibly end the world by having a baby that blew open all the gates to the Otherworld.

“You have a choice,” the prince said. “I let this human male go free and you submit to me. Or I hand him over to Breena completely and he won’t survive the night.”

That was no choice.

I couldn’t let Ren die. Even if he hated me, I couldn’t do that. The Order needed Ren. The world needed him to fight the fae and the ancients. I needed him alive.

Ren stirred, trying to shift forward, but he slumped over to the side. I caught him before he toppled over completely. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, but I knew I couldn’t allow any more harm to come to him. There had to be another option. I needed time.

Time.

We needed time.

An idea sprung to life, and I latched onto it like it was the only preserver in the ocean. If I could get Ren to safety and somehow negotiate time, I could hopefully figure a way out of this mess.

“How do I know you’re not lying? How will I know that you’ve let him go and he’s safe?”

“I give you my word.” Victory gleamed in his glacial eyes. “Once given, it is only breakable by death.”

That was true. I had no idea why the fae were bound by promises, but they could not go back on them. Not even a prince or a queen. “And you would promise to let him go immediately and harm him no more?”

“Yes.”

“Ivy, don’t. You can’t,” Ren groaned.

It pained me to ignore him, but I had to. “I need time.”

The prince cocked his head to the side.

“I need time to . . . to be with you.” I forced the words out as Ren tensed against me. “I can’t just do it. That’s not who I am.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed. “No—”

“All I’m asking for is time. If you don’t give it, and you hurt Ren further, I will find a way to end this, and you’ll be back to square one, looking for another halfling.”

His grip tightened on the chain, and I felt it around my neck. “How much time?”

“A month.”

“No. A week,” he countered.

That was not enough time for me to hopefully find a way out of this damn place. “Four weeks.”

“That’s a month.” The prince sighed. “Two weeks.”

“Three,” I shot back. “I need time to grow accustomed to this. To become comfortable.”

“You don’t need to be comfortable. You just need to let me plant my seed in you.”

I winced. “Yeah, okay. That’s why I need time, because you say stuff like that while I have a chain around my neck, and I just want to throw up in your face.”

The prince’s lip curled in disgust. “Revolting.”

“Exactly,” I spat. “I need time.”

“Son of a bitch,” Ren grunted, pulling against his chains. His eyes opened to thin slits and his cheeks were flushed with anger. “You’re not going to touch her.” Muscles popped in his arms and shoulders. “I’m going to f*cking kill you. You sick son of a bitch, I will f*cking end you.”

The prince shot Ren a dismissive glance. “Three weeks and you’ll submit to me?”

My stomach soured, but I nodded.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“Three weeks and I’ll . . . submit to you,” I gritted out.

The prince smiled, flashing bright white teeth that were shockingly sharp. “Deal.” He turned, calling out in a language I didn’t understand. The door opened, and one of the short-haired ancients stepped in the room. “He is to be released.”