Page 22 of Alpha Chained
“There you go, sweetheart. Thought you might like a little something to wear for your big night.” He runs an eye down my bare chest, then back up to my face.
I glance down to see a shimmery red dress puddled on the ground. Of course he’d pick something like that. The sick bastard probably thinks Riot is going to rip it right off me.
“Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll make it quick,” Parker continues with a dark chuckle. “Well…maybe not too quick. The man’s been caged up a long time. Bet he’s got a lot of pent-up energy to expend.”
My stomach churns as his words sink in. I think of the blood I saw Riot coated in.
“Too bad you never gave me what I wanted,” Parker says with a shake of his head. “I was really hoping you’d be useful. But I guess it’s a small consolation to know he’ll probably tear you limb from limb.”
He laughs again, and I feel bile rise in my throat.
He wouldn’t… No! Surely, he couldn’t!
This can’t be happening. Not after everything I went through to protect my people. To die at the hands of a…a monster?
“Have fun, sweetheart,” Parker calls over his shoulder as he exits. “I’ll be sure to send someone to hose out that room in the morning.”
The door slams shut, leaving me alone with my spiraling thoughts. Riot is going to kill me. I’m certain of it now. That flicker I saw…it was the flicker of a predator catching the scent of prey.
I sink to the floor of the shower, trembling as the water pounds against my back.
What have I gotten myself into?
I don’t get much chance to feel sorry for myself, though, because a few minutes later, there’s another bang at the door.
“Time to go.” It’s one of the guards.
“I…I… Just a minute!” I choke out. Grabbing a towel from a nearby rail, I dry myself off hastily, then reach for the dress.
“Mother of God!” I mutter as I look down at it. The damn thing isn’t designed to cover anything at all. But it’s all I have. Wriggling into the tight lycra, I do my best to tug it over my breasts…which only ends up pulling the hem up my thighs until my pussy is practically on display. “Shit, shit, shit!” It doesn’t help that I wasn’t given underwear. Or shoes.
Dammit.
Gritting my teeth, I pad to the door, tugging at the hem again.
The walk back down the hall feels like I’m being led to the gallows. I drag each step, pausing when we head past the door that leads to the cell block.
“New digs for you,” the tall guard smirks at me when he sees that I’m uncertain about which direction to go in. “Got the honeymoon suite set up and everything.”
“Shut up…jerk,” I say under my breath, feeling brazen now that I know they can’t touch me. My bravado dies a rapid death as we reach a plain white door. The guard unlocks it and swings it open, stepping to the side and leaving me framed in the doorway. I gulp.
Unlike the other rooms I’ve seen in this place, this one is comfortable. There’s plush cream carpet on the floor, and the walls are eggshell white with gold-framed pictures of horses and huntsmen. To one side is a dressing table and chair facing a large, gilt-edged mirror. It’s like being in an upmarket hotel. It seems so surreal that I struggle to take it in.
What I don’t struggle to take in is the large bed in the center of the room. Riot is standing beside it, his arms folded over his huge chest. He’s in a pair of form-fitting black jeans and a snug black T-shirt that strains around his biceps. His golden skin looks freshly scrubbed, and tiny water droplets cling to the bristles of his short-cropped dark hair.
Holy shit.
“Come in,” he says, his voice rumbling through me in a way that makes my skin tingle.
When I don’t move, one of the guards pushes me between my shoulder blades, bumping me forward. I take an unsteady step, giving a small jump as the door slams shut behind me.
Riot runs an eye over me, and I stand awkwardly, curling my uninjured arm around myself. This freaking dress leaves nothing to the imagination, and although I’ve been naked around males on more than one occasion after I’ve shifted, I’ve never felt so bare as I do now.
He takes a step forward, and I instinctively back up. “Don’t think you’re going to lay a hand on me,” I say quickly, hating the way my voice trembles.
“You think you have a choice?” he scoffs.
“It won’t be worth your while,” I snap back. “I’ll put up such a fight, you won’t know what hit you.”