Reid walked toward Amelia and casually let a stack of papers fall onto the polished floor in front of her. The document slid to a stop at her knees.
A moment later, he flicked a pen after it.
Clack.
The metal barrel bounced off the top of her head before rolling across the floor. Amelia flinched. Reid smiled. "Oops."
His voice was light. "My bad." The smile lingering on his lips never reached his eyes. "But we don’t have all day."
Amelia stared at the document without moving. Her thoughts remained trapped on the words she had screamed only moments ago.
I have become a mistress...
The sentence echoed over and over inside her mind. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be. Her fingers slowly tightened against the folds of her gown.
Mistress...
Not to one man. To three. A wave of nausea rose inside her.
I’m Dylan’s fiancée.
Her engagement ring had long since been taken from her, but she could still remember the warmth of his hands as he had slipped it onto her finger.
I’m sorry... The apology formed silently inside her heart. A faint scrape interrupted her thoughts. The terror of death had forced her hand.
Dean shifted his weight. The sound alone sent panic racing through her body. She immediately reached for the pen with trembling fingers.
Reid crouched in front of her. Without a word, he unfolded the document across the floor. He tapped one line with a finger.
"Sign here." His finger moved lower. "And here." Another tap. "And here."
Amelia barely looked at the pages. The words blurred before her tear-filled eyes. Her hand shook so violently that the pen nearly slipped from her grasp. She forced herself to write her name.
Once. Twice. By the time she reached the final page, her vision had steadied enough to catch a single sentence.
Should the mistress attempt escape, she will be sold to the Bloodfang rogues.
The pen froze. Her heartbeat faltered.
Bloodfang...
A cold chill swept through her body. Everyone knew the stories. The Bloodfang rogues didn’t live by any laws. They were savage. Merciless. Almost impossible to kill. Women taken by them were rarely ever seen again.
Those who somehow escaped...
Never returned the same. Her grip weakened.
No...
For one desperate moment, she considered dropping the pen. Refusing. Accepting whatever came next. Then Dean’s sword flashed across her memory. The certainty that she had been seconds away from dying.
Slowly...
She lowered the pen. Her signature appeared beneath the clause. The ink had barely dried before Reid folded the contract closed. A satisfied smile spread across his face.
"Good girl."
He reached out and gave her two light pats on the head. The gesture was almost playful. To Amelia...
It felt unbearable. Her entire body stiffened beneath his hand. Humiliation burned hotter than any wound the whip had left behind. She lowered her gaze, unable to look at any of them.
Reid stood and handed the signed document to Enzo. Without even glancing toward Amelia, Enzo pressed a small button embedded beneath the edge of the table. A soft chime echoed through the room.
Moments later, the doors opened. The maids entered immediately. No one spoke. They gently lifted Amelia between them. She didn’t resist. She wasn’t sure she had any strength left to.
They carried her through the quiet hallways until they reached the same luxurious guest room where the healer had treated her. The moment they stepped inside, they lowered her carefully onto the floor.
Click.
The door closed. Another click followed as the lock turned. The sound echoed through the room. Amelia remained perfectly still.
The silence wrapped around her.
Then...
The truth finally settled inside her. She was their mistress. Being a mistress was the worst kind of title a woman could carry. It stripped away dignity, future, everything
Why didn’t I choose death?
Fresh tears blurred her vision. Why didn’t I think?
She wrapped her arms around herself. They never gave me time.
Every memory rushed back. Dean lifting the sword. Reid counting down. The crushing Alpha aura pressing against her lungs. Fear had swallowed every rational thought she possessed.
She hadn’t chosen. She had survived. There was a difference. A shaky breath escaped her lips. Almost suddenly, she forced herself upright.
"No..."
She looked around the room desperately. "There has to be a way." She hurried toward the window instead.
Her hands pressed against the cool glass. Three floors. Far below, the stone courtyard stretched beneath her. If she jumped...
The fall would almost certainly kill her. She stared downward for several long seconds.
Would that be easier? Her fingers slowly curled into fists. Or am I still too afraid to die?
Before she could answer herself—
Bang!
The door flew open. Amelia spun around, her pulse leapt into her throat.
Rue stood in the doorway. The woman who had spent the last two weeks tearing her apart with a whip. There was no satisfaction on her face now.
Only fury.
Pure, burning fury.
She strode across the room without slowing.
Smack!
Her palm collided with Amelia’s cheek with enough force to send her stumbling sideways. Pain burst across her face.
Before Amelia could recover, Rue seized a fistful of her red hair.
"How are you still alive?" Her voice shook with rage.
"What did you do?" Amelia cried out as Rue yanked her closer.
"I... I didn’t—" The words never had a chance to finish.
Rue drove a vicious kick into her stomach. Air rushed from Amelia’s lungs. She folded instantly, collapsing onto the floor with a choked gasp. Pain radiated through her abdomen as she curled instinctively around the blow, struggling desperately to pull another breath into her burning lungs.
It’s almost impossible to spare spies, Rue thought, staring down at the gasping woman with pure disgust. And yet this worthless wolfless bitch is now their mistress? What the fuck. The men she wanted for herself. The men she had served and desired in silence for years. I should have killed her myself during one of the sessions. Snapped her neck and told them it was an accidental overkill. They would have believed me.
Rue let out a harsh, mocking laugh that echoed through the room.
"Being a mistress isn’t an act of mercy, you stupid girl," she spat, circling the crumpled woman. "So you’d better start begging the men to take you out of your misery. Because I promise you... this so-called ’honor’ will be far worse than anything I did with the whip."