His Moonsilver Mate (Abby and Kade) novel Chapter 48

Chapter 48

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Sloane

Chapter 48

Nwoke when someone hauled me off the cot.

For several seconds, I had no idea where I was.

My feet hit the floor badly, and my knees folded. A guard caught me under one arm before I went

down.

“Move.”

I blinked against the darkness.

The cell.

Right.

I had made it back to the cell.

Barely.

I remembered the chair. The straps. Questions that stopped sounding like questions after they had

asked them often enough.

Abigail Hayes.

Eighteen.

Recently shifted.

Liam’s sister.

Kade’s mate.

Moonhaven.

h

I remembered giving them the same answers until my throat hurt, then waking whenever someone decided I had rested long enough.

After that, almost nothing.

They must have brought me back here and dropped me onto the cot. I had passed out before I even realized the interrogation was over.

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They wanted me healing.

That thought did nothing to make me feel better.

The second guard opened the cell door.

“Walk.”

I tried.

My legs shook, but they held.

Barely.

They took me through corridors I didn’t recognize.

That woke me more effectively than the rough hands on my arms.

Every other time they had moved me, I had known at least part of the route: the interrogation room, the circular chamber where they had forced Rhea out, the short stretch between my cell and the

washroom.

This was different.

The walls changed first.

Less bare stone.

Then rugs beneath my feet.

Actual lamps instead of the weak yellow lights downstairs.

I tried to keep track of the turns, but my head still felt heavy.

Left.

Stairs.

Another corridor.

A turn I immediately forgot.

The guards stopped in front of a dark wooden door.

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“Enter.”

My stomach tightened.

I knew that voice.

The guard opened the door and shoved me inside.

I stumbled forward, caught myself, then heard the door close behind me.

This wasn’t an interrogation room.

A large bed stood against one wall, the covers dark and neatly arranged. Heavy curtains covered the windows. A low fire burned in the fireplace, and a side table held a bottle and a glass.

The Rogue King stood beside it.

For once, he didn’t look like someone waiting to question or threaten me.

His robe hung loose over black pants, his chest bare beneath it. He wasn’t wearing shoes. A glass rested casually in one hand.

He looked comfortable.

Relaxed.

I had never hated anyone for being comfortable before.

His gaze moved over me.

“Stand up.”

I hadn’t realized how badly I was slouching.

I forced my shoulders back.

My shirt hung loosely from me. Someone had given it to me after Cressida treated my injuries, and it had been too large even then.

The Rogue King took a drink.

Then he walked toward me.

Rhea stirred.

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But still there.

Mate.

My stomach turned.

He stopped in front of me and studied my face.

Then the rest of me.

Not openly interested.

Almost evaluating.

That somehow felt worse.

He circled me slowly.

I stayed still.

When he came back around, he lifted one hand and touched my cheek.

The touch was almost gentle.

My body reacted before my mind did.

A shiver ran through me.

Rhea pressed weakly toward him.

I jerked my chin away.

“Don’t touch me.”

His brows lifted.

“I’m filthy.”

His mouth curved faintly.

“You think that’s what would stop me?”

Disgust rolled through me

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I hated the word.

caught my chin again.

I pulled away harder this time.

His grip tightened just enough to stop me.-

“Still fighting.”

“What did you expect?”

“A little gratitude, perhaps.”

I stared at him.

“For what?”

“You’re alive.”

“Because your witch told you killing me might hurt you.”

His expression cooled.

Good.

At least I could still do that.

He released my chin.

“Perhaps fate gave me something useless.”

I said nothing.

His gaze lingered on me.

“But useless things occasionally find other purposes.”

He closed the distance between us before I could step back. His free hand slid into the hair at the back of my neck and tilted my face up.

That strange warmth rushed through my chest again, sharp and unwanted. Rhea leaned toward him instinctively, and revulsion hit me just as fast.

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The moment his lips touched mine, I bit down hard on his lower lip. The metallic taste of blood/ filled my mouth.

shoved both hands against his bare chest with everything I had left. He sucked in a sharp breath

and released me.

I stumbled back, breathing hard.

The Rogue King watched me.

Blood gathered at the corner of his mouth. He touched it with his thumb, looked at the smear, and gave a quiet laugh.

“You think this is funny?”

“A little.”

“I’d rather die than come willingly anywhere near you.”

His amusement disappeared.

“That can be arranged.”

The words landed coldly between us.

Then he turned away as though the entire exchange had already stopped interesting him.

I watched every movement.

He crossed to the side table and set down his glass.

Then he picked up something I couldn’t see.

When he turned back, his expression had changed.

Business again.

“Come here.”

“No.”

His gaze settled on me.

I remembered the chair.

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I walked toward him.

Slowly.

“That’s better.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I’m pleased the bond hasn’t completely clouded your judgment.”

I frowned.

He moved behind me.

I turned my head, trying to see what he held.

His hand settled briefly on my shoulder.

“You understand your position here.”

“A prisoner.”

“Good.”

His voice came closer to my ear.

“Then perhaps this won’t be difficult.”

My pulse quickened.

“What are you doing?”

“I have something for you.”

I tried to turn.

His hand stopped me.

“Stay still.”

I froze.

“Close your eyes.”

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“What is it?”

You’ll find out.”

That answer did nothing to reassure me.

I swallowed.

Then closed my eyes.

Something cold touched my throat.

My eyes flew open.

There was a quiet click.

I grabbed for my neck.

Pain tore through me.

I dropped to my knees.

The thing around my throat burned.

Not like the silver cuffs.

This went deeper.

It felt as though something had hooked beneath my skin and pulled tight.

I clawed at it.

“Stop.”

I barely heard him.

I shoved my fingers beneath the edge.

The pain sharpened.

Tears sprang into my eyes.

“Take it off!”

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I pulled again.

Agony shot through my neck and down my spine. Rhea cried out inside me. Panic hit harder than the pain.

“No, no-”

I kept trying to tear it away. Every time my nails caught the metal, the burning flared hotter digging deeper into my skin until I could barely draw breath.

The Rogue King dropped into a crouch in front of me and seized my wrists, forcing my hands away from my neck.

“Get off me!” I choked out, thrashing against his grip. “Take it off!”

“Be quiet and stop fighting it.” His voice cut through the panic. “The collar responds to resistance. The more you fight it, the more it hurts.”

I tried to wrench my arms free, but his grip was too strong.

Pain flashed white behind my eyes. My strength finally gave out, and I folded forward until my forehead touched the floor. I stopped fighting.

He kept my hands pinned away from the collar. “Breathe.”

My breaths came in short, uneven pulls.

“Slowly.”

I dragged in one breath, then another. The burning began to ease. Not gone. Just bearable.

My whole body was still trembling when he finally loosened his grip. I stayed on my knees. A tear ran down my cheek.

The Rogue King looked down at me.

“It learns quickly.”

I glared at him.

“What does?”

“The collar.”

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