Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Zurielle

The sound of the door opening has me sitting up and clutching the sheet to my chest. Alaric walks in with his hands up as if warding off an attack. “I’m just following orders.”

Just following orders.

Does he understand how those words cut me to the quick? They’re yet another reminder that he never wanted me, was never the nice guy I believed when I met him back in Olympus. I have never felt so young and foolish as I do now, and I hate it. I want to keep lashing out with my words until he hurts as much as I am right now. Until he doubts his very instincts and questions everything.

Too bad my words bounce off him as if from impenetrable stone. He’d have to care what I think in order to be hurt by me.

Somehow, that stings more than anything else so far.

I point at him. “If you climb into this bed, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He stops at the edge of the mattress. He’s still as naked as I am, and even as much fury surges through me, I can’t help noticing how perfectly formed he is. All chiseled lines and hard planes, a body made for doing. If I let myself, I can still feel his broad hands on my hips. On other parts of me.

He’s been gone for a long time, and there’s a new tiredness on his face and present in the line of his shoulders that wasn’t there before. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.” Alaric shakes his head. “Look, I don’t know if Ursa wants us to fight or fuck, but I don’t have energy for either right now.”

I should fight until we’re at a standstill and then keep silent for the rest of the week. I’ve already been so foolish, and wanting answers from him sets me up to prove I haven’t learned anything from this. Better to just ride this week out and then walk away, taking my absurd amount of money with me. It’s more than enough to set me up anywhere I want to go, to start a new life away from Olympus and Carver City and this entire corner of the country.

But as I stare at Alaric while he awaits my response, I can’t build up my walls fast enough. “I just want to know why.” My voice breaks on the last word. “I deserve that much.”

He sighs and drags his hand through his dark hair. “Yeah, I know.”

“Then tell me.”

One corner of his mouth kicks up. “Promise you won’t kick me out of bed again.”

“No.” I hesitate. “But I won’t do it tonight unless you give me reason to.”

“Guess that’s as good as I can ask for.” He climbs onto the mattress, moving slowly as if in pain.

It’s not until he turns to adjust the blanket that I see his back. “Alaric, what happened?”

His soft smile is completely at odds with the marks on his back that are already darkening to bruises. “I had a good beating. That’s all.”

“Ursa did this.”

“Yes.” He gives himself a shake and seems to zero back in on me. “Because I asked her to.”

I swallow my next words, ones that make all sorts of assumptions, and try to think. I know about kink, at least in theory. When Alaric went back to the Underworld, I spent a lot of time researching what exactly goes on in a place like that. There’s nothing about the actual Underworld on the internet, of course, but there are other more public places that cater to similar clientele and tastes.

Not to mention I saw the things on the list I filled out before the auction. I am aware that some people enjoy pain the same way others enjoy a fine wine. Layers upon layers depending on the instruments used and the game being played out.

It just never occurred to me that Alaric might be one of those people.

“Is she going to beat me?”

“Do you want her to?”

I don’t know. A few days ago, I would have conclusively said no, but now I’m not sure of anything. “May I see?”

Alaric considers me for a few moments and then shrugs. “If you want to.” He rolls over and settles himself face-down on the bed.

I should be asking questions right now, demanding answers, but I shift closer and tug the blanket down to bare his back. Just like I suspected from my glimpse, he’ll be sporting quite an array of bruises by morning. It spreads down his back and farther, disappearing beneath the blanket. “What did she use?”

“A flogger.”

She’s been very careful, I think. There are welts, but no cuts mar his skin. “Does she ever make you bleed?”

Alaric shifts restlessly. “Sometimes.”

My body flushes hot, but I can’t quite quantify my reaction. Am I jealous that he got this part of Ursa after I was sent away? Am I afraid that I’ll be asked to submit to the same thing? Do I want to submit to the same thing?

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I move away. None of this changes anything. I can’t let myself get distracted by curiosity. “Tell me why.”

He sighs and turns his face toward me. “I wasn’t lying when I told you how I ended up at the Underworld.”

“But you weren’t telling the full truth either.”

“No, I wasn’t telling the full truth, either.” He looks at me, really looks at me. “Do you know what your father does for Poseidon?”

“He’s the second-in-command.”

“Yes, but do you know what that really means?”

I search for the answer he’s obviously looking for. “He handles a lot of the day-to-day stuff at the marina, the imports and export schedule and the like.”

Alaric’s mouth twists. “Yes, half of which is illegal.”

I blink. “What? But why would he do something illegal? Olympus is a port city. It has an incredible economy.” Olympus is dangerous. I know that, even if I sometimes believe my father exaggerates the danger to keep me and my sisters under lock and key. The Thirteen rule and they’re all but above the law. It takes something as simple as catching Zeus’s eye or pissing off Aphrodite and an entire person’s world can come crashing down around them. But my father? A criminal?

“Zuri.” He clears his throat. “Zurielle. That’s incredibly naive. The illegal shit funds just as much of Olympus as the legal stuff, if not more. Poseidon and your father have their hands on all of it.”

My father is involved in illegal activity? I’m already shaking my head even as I try to wrap my mind around what he’s saying. “Impossible.”

“Hardly.”

“My father is one of the most uptight and overprotective people in existence. He has rules upon rules upon rules. A person like that doesn’t break the law. He worships the law.”

“You know better. Those rules apply to his daughters—to you. Not to him.” He sighs. “But all this is to say that I, ah, misplaced one of the shipments.”

Easy enough to read between those lines. “You stole.”

His lips quirk. “Yes, I stole, though it was already stolen goods, so it wasn’t like he had a leg to stand on when it came to morals. Your father didn’t see things that way.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

“He tracked me down, but I’d already, uh, found the item a new home. So he offered me a choice—reimburse the amount owed or he’d take out payment in broken bones. If I chose the latter option, I’d run out of bones before the debt was fulfilled.”

It’s so brutal, I don’t want to believe it. But Alaric says it drily, as if it’s barely worth noting that my father apparently was willing to use deadly force as a form of punishment. “He wouldn’t.” But then, what do I know of my father’s work, really? I’ve already proven woefully inadequate at asking questions to get to the truth. I was wrong about Alaric. Who’s to say I’m not wrong about my father, too?

He has a tremendous rage. He always has. When he’s furious, he gets so red, it always terrified me as a child, even if he never touched us in anger. But we’re his children. Does he show the same restraint with people he doesn’t love?

I don’t like the turn my thoughts have taken. I don’t like them at all. “You’d sold it. Why not just use that money to repay him?”

“It went elsewhere.”

I frown. “What do you mean, it went elsewhere? What did you spend it on?” Alaric has worked for Hades for nearly eight years. He’s paid off most of the debt and he still had a quarter million left to go. How could he have possibly spent it before my father got to him?

His expression is closed to me. But then, it always was, even when it appeared open. I can’t trust anything he says, but this whole story has a ring of truth to it.

Or maybe I’m just a fool who hasn’t learned my lesson.

“Where did it go?” I ask again.

He exhales slowly and closes his eyes. “Did you know I’m originally from Sabine Valley?”

I blink. “No, I didn’t know that.” I’d just assumed either Carver City or, more likely, Olympus.

“I spent most of my time growing up in Olympus, but my uncle and cousins used to run a territory in Sabine. They were betrayed. My uncle was killed and my cousins were forced to flee for their lives. They needed the money. We weren’t exactly close, but family is family. It seemed a small enough price to pay. It was only one job to ensure they were able to have enough money to disappear and stay safe.”

I search his face. Is this the truth or more lies? I thought I could tell the difference, but I’m doubting myself now. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust my instincts again. “If that’s the case—”

“It is.”

“Why not tell my father? Surely he would—”

Alaric snorts. “Your father doesn’t give a fuck about me. He doesn’t give a fuck about the people who are hurt in Olympus by the drugs that come in. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything but maintaining the status quo and lining his pockets with money and power.”

He paints such a horrible picture of my father. I don’t—I can’t believe it. “So you fled to Hades.”

“He has a dearth of male submissives. He was willing to loan me the money in exchange for my working in the Underworld while I repaid it.”

“You exchanged money for sex.”

His lips quirk. “Let’s not throw stones from glass houses.”

He’s right, of course, but I’m not judging him. If he’s telling the truth, he was in an impossible situation. And the money went to help his family, though if they ruled one-third of Sabine Valley, they aren’t good people. No territory leaders are.

That includes Ursa.

I can’t afford to forget that.

“Why does Ursa want revenge against my father?” I press my lips together. “I know what he says.” A tale of betrayal and evil and a man who did what was required for the greater good. But that man and the man Alaric describes can’t be the same person. It doesn’t make sense. One has to be true and the other false. Maybe if I knew more, I could figure things out. “But I don’t know her side of the story.”

“That’s something you’re going to have to ask her. It’s not my story to tell.”

Which means I’ll have to find the courage to ask her myself or go on without knowing. No matter where I’ll land, it won’t be tonight.

I settle down in the bed, suddenly aware that I can feel the heat coming off Alaric’s body. The mattress is king-size, but it’s nowhere near large enough. I consider grabbing some of the pillows from the floor to create a barrier between us, but that feels like admitting just how bothered I am by this situation. It feels like weakness.

Instead I close my eyes and force my body to relax, muscle by muscle. I resent the way his breathing evens out almost immediately. Of course Alaric would have no problem sleeping next to me. Why should he? I was only ever a means to an end.

Maybe that’s how I should be looking at things. Alaric is a means to an end, even if that end is only pleasure. Ursa is a means to an end.

I don’t know if I’m capable of making that shift, but I’m going to try. Better to try and fail than to just submit and be swept along without any agency of my own. At the end of this week, I will walk out of here with enough money to be truly independent for the first time in my life. If I play my cards right, I’ll also walk out sexually experienced and understanding what it is I truly want.

A big if, but it gives me something to strive toward.

It will be enough.

It has to be enough.