SAMANTHA
A feeling told me Jayce had come here because of me.
I could not explain it. I could not prove it. But every instinct I had screamed that he was here for me. The way his golden eyes scanned the room. The way his wings seemed to settle when he looked in my direction. The way my skin prickled under his gaze.
"Wonderful!" Daisy cheered. Then she turned to the other two princes. "Your Majesties, what do you think of our progress?"
Finnian said nothing. His silver eyes swept across the room like he was counting livestock. His face was cold. Unreadable. Darlington offered a small, polite nod. His dark wings were folded behind him. His gentle eyes moved across the women but did not linger anywhere.
Neither of them spoke.
Daisy clapped her hands. "Enough of being idle, everyone. Go back to training!"
No one moved.
The women were too busy staring at the princes. Their mouths hung open. Their eyes were wide. They had forgotten about toothbrushes and training and everything else. Leslie was preening. The woman beside her was adjusting her bikini strap. Another was running her fingers through her hair.
Daisy's face darkened. "I said GO BACK TO TRAINING!"
The women scrambled.
Dildos were grabbed. Knees were repositioned. Hair was flipped. The room was soon filled with the sounds of ladies practicing—sucking, gagging, performing. The noises were mechanical. Hollow. Like a room full of dolls wound up and set loose.
The earlier shame I felt was now magnified under the princes' gaze.
I clutched the dildo in my hand. My knuckles were white. My palm was sweating. The plastic handle felt slimy against my skin. I hesitated.
Do it, Cece said.
I cannot.
You have to.
I cannot do this in front of them.
You have no choice.
She was right. I had no choice.
Then, Jayce's voice cut through the room like a blade.
"The lady with the raven hair. She is not doing it well. How does she expect to please me if she cannot do something so little properly?"
Raven hair.
That was me.
Panicking, I looked up. Jayce was staring directly at me. His golden eyes glittered. His lips were curled into a wicked smile. His wings shifted behind him, feathers rustling.
What a bastard!
Fury filled my chest. Hot. Sharp. I gripped the brush so tightly my fingers ached. My mind raced with the desire to smash it over Jayce's head. To make him forget about me. To wipe that smug look off his perfect face. I imagined the plastic handle cracking against his skull. I imagined the satisfaction.
Daisy's glare was sharp as she snapped. "Have you not heard what Prince Jayce just complained? Do you want to be a liability? Get to work, Samantha!"
Her voice was venomous. Her eyes promised punishment.
Reluctantly, I accepted my fate. I lowered my head. I summoned the little courage I had left.
I raised the dildo to my lips.
Jayce spoke again. The devil himself. The spawn of Satan.
"To make sure she does not slack off again, I want to assist her. She should practice with me."
What the fuck?
He wanted to assist me? To do what? My mind spun. Images flashed through my head—none of them good. None of them decent.
My heart sank. A wave of dread washed over me. I could not help but stare at Jayce again. His face was calm. His eyes were dark. His smile was cruel.
My unease was growing. Spreading through my chest like poison.
Jayce chuckled. There was darkness in his voice. He raised his chin and addressed me directly.
"Come here. Let me show you how it is done. The real thing is better."
Yuck.
His words made my blood run cold. I hated that he was a pervert. I hated that he was enjoying this. I hated that he wanted me to perform for him. In front of everyone.
Leslie. Daisy. The other slaves. Finnian. Darlington.
Everyone would watch.
To my dismay, Daisy saw nothing wrong with this. Of course she did not. Her face was bright. Excited. She was probably already planning how to use this to impress the king.
"Why are you moping at him like a statue?" Daisy urged. "Stand up and go attend to your prince!"
I clenched my fists.
I remained where I was.
My knees were pressed into the cold stone floor. My dress was pooled around me. My hands were shaking.
I would rather be branded a rogue than endure such a shameful act. I would rather run into the forest and never come back. I would rather die than kneel before Jayce and pretend to enjoy brushing his teeth like some kind of trained pet.
Do not move, Cece said.
I was not planning to.
Good. Make him come to you.
I do not want him to come to me at all.
Too late. He is already here.
I could feel his eyes on me. Burning. Waiting.
Before Jayce could speak again, another voice interrupted.
"Prince Jayce."
Leslie.
She stepped forward from the row of women. Her hips swayed. Her smile was bright. Her eyes were fixed on Jayce like he was the only man in the room. Her bikini was tiny. Her body was on display.
"Samantha Samuels is a weakling," Leslie said. Her voice was soft. Seductive. Dripping with honey and poison. "She cannot accept your offer. Allow me to show you how it is done."
Jayce's eyes flicked to her. His expression did not change.
Leslie continued. "I have been practicing diligently. I am sure you will gain satisfaction."
Without waiting for a response, she moved toward him. Her body swayed with each step. Her smile never faltered. Her eyes never left his face.
She stopped in front of Jayce. She knelt. Slowly. Gracefully. She looked up at him through her lashes.
Her smile was bright. What a desperate bitch!
And she waited for what the prince would say.