Torn (A Wicked Saga, #2)(71)

I didn’t dare move, even though I now had a small measure of freedom. He still held on to my hair, and he was too close. When he spoke, his cool breath caressed my cheek.

“She caught his attention and lured him in quite easily,” he told me.

My hands balled into fists. “He saw past her glamour. It’s our job to go after fae when we see them.”

“And how do you know he was just doing his duty? Breena is beautiful, and you . . . well, you have this hair.” He lifted it up. “Not sure what to make of it.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

He chuckled, dropping the curly mass, but didn’t step back. His hand landed on my shoulder, a heavy, suffocating presence. “She rendered him helpless quite easily,” he continued. “I guess he was distracted.”

Of course he was, and it wasn’t for the reason Drake was suggesting. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“It isn’t?” His hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my neck, and he forced my head back so I met his gaze. “Do you know when we feed, we can pick up thoughts? See inside someone? Pieces of their personality, their wants and desires?”

I didn’t know that.

His eyes were like pools of blue ice. “How do you think I was able to convince you I was Ren for a period of time?”

“Only for a handful of hours,” I reminded him.

Drake’s fingers tightened around my neck. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, I would’ve gotten what I came for.”

Anger and embarrassment flushed my skin. I tried to pull away, but he held me in place.

“I learned certain things about him when I fed, as I am sure Breena did.” He paused. “One of the things I picked up from your human male was his concern over those two men—Henry and Kyle.”

Great. But right now that wasn’t one of my biggest problems.

“You should thank me for removing at least one of those threats,” he said, and I clamped my mouth shut. “I did what your human male couldn’t do.”

“Murdering someone in cold blood isn’t exactly a desirable trait,” I shot back.

“We’ll have to disagree on that.” Letting go of my neck, he stepped back. “Do you know what else I learned?”

I all but darted across the room, putting as much space between us as possible. The bedroom door was closed, and I was smart enough to know I wasn’t going to get past him. I wasn’t sure why he’d let me go, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I needed to keep my cool, because the only chance I had was to earn his trust.

“What?” I asked.

Drake smiled tightly. “Your human male isn’t sure how he feels about you. He’s torn. He cares for you, but he loathes half of what you are. He cannot reconcile those two halves.”

The breath I sucked in burned, and a knot formed in the back of my throat, making my voice hoarse. “Why should I believe what you’re saying?”

“Because I’ve been inside your head and you share those same fears,” he replied. “You fear that he feels that way, and you would be right. He does.”

I paced in front of the dresser, folding my arms around my waist. The knot expanded in my throat.

“Why would you want to be with someone who does not fully accept who you are?” he asked.

That was a great question, and one that lingered in the back of my thoughts far too often. Frustrated, I started wearing a path in the plush carpet that surrounded the massive bed. Keeping my cool probably wasn’t going to happen. “Do you really think telling me these things is going to help?”

“Yes.”

My hands curled into fists. “It’s not.”

“You made a deal, so in the end, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” he replied. “You have seventeen days left.”

I shuddered. “I’d rather you kill me than remind me of that.”

“I thought you didn’t want to die.” Drake dropped into the chair by the window, and he sat like he always did, thighs spread wide and shoulders pressed back. He turned every chair into a throne, and it annoyed me greatly. “When you were on your back and I’d broken some very important things inside you, didn’t you want to live? Has that changed?”

“Yes.” I made another pass in front of the bed, the stupid dress whispering around my ankles. “Your mere presence makes me wish for a fifty-story window to jump out of and a cement sidewalk below. Or a moat. A moat with a dozen hungry alligators in it.”

He smirked. “You always paint such lovely pictures with your words, little bird.”

“I’m going to paint lovely pictures with your intestines,” I shot back.

Drake laughed.

I hated him.

Seriously.

“Resist all you want.” He dismissively flicked his wrist as he turned his gaze to the window. “We have a deal. In the end, you will be under me and I will plant my seed in your belly.”

My lip curled with disgust and I stopped pacing. I told myself to shut up, but my mouth moved without my control. “That has to be the most revolting thing I’ve ever heard.”

He raised one shoulder, managing to make a shrug look elegant.

Anger rose inside me, my nearly constant companion. “Do you really think I want this?” He opened his mouth. “Don’t answer that question,” I warned. “We made a deal, because you gave me no other option. I don’t want you, and I sure as hell don’t want to bear your child.”