Page 42 of Empress of Ruin
“Enough!” I snap. She falls silent. “Cut that shit out.”
“Alright.” She goes silent, and I fuckinghate it.
“Get in bed,” I growl.
She complies immediately. Her movements are swift, practiced, and mechanical. None of the lingering hesitation I so enjoy watching every time she follows an order against her wishes.
Fuck. Have I actually pushed her too far this time?
No. She’ll be fine in the morning. This is just a new iteration of the tantrum she’s been throwing since I dragged her back here, kicking and screaming.
Except she’snotfine in the morning. She complies with everything I say. Barely flinches as I spank her. Doesn’t make a single noise as I fuck her—it’s like having sex with a corpse.
I let it slide.
I also let slide her cool politeness at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. My Lyra is too filled with life to stick to this ruse for long.
But the next day follows the same pattern. As does the one after that, and the one after that. Every morning, I expect her to crack. I spank her harder, fuck her harder, push her farther. But she doesn’t give me a goddamn inch.
It takes me a week to realize that I may have actually made a mistake.
Chapter Sixteen
Lyra
“You have a meeting today.” Killian’s eyes linger on me as I button my pants and start pulling on a blouse. He enjoys watching me dress in the mornings, and I’ve recently found that giving him whatever he wants is the only way I can get some fucking peace.
I was already far past the point of exhaustion, but being in constant battle with him… it’s not worth the emotional energy. It’s easier to take the path of least resistance.
“With?” I ask.
“Two meetings, actually. With two perspective literary agents interested in championing your novel.”
My novel… the one I wrote back when Killian was blackmailing me into sleeping with him? I’d nearly forgotten about that.
“I reached out to them on your behalf. They’re happy to meet with you in person.” When I don’t respond, Killian prods, “which is an unusual display of enthusiasm in the publishing world.”
I know it is, but… “Not interested, thank you.” Accepting this gift would only be handing Killian leverage on me. Every time he’s mildly displeased with me—and I’m sure he’ll find things to be upset with, even when I’m complying perfectly—he can threaten to ruin whatever’s happening with my book.
“You were quite excited at the prospect of publishing your book some months ago,” Killian reminds me.
Yes, that wasbefore. Theafterthat I’m living in now is different. Every step I take could be used against me, and the unfortunate truth is that it might be safest andeasiestto take no steps at all.
Instead of explaining that to someone who will only use it to start an argument, I shrug.
Killian cocks his head to the side. “So what are your other plans today, then?”
Nothing. Literally nothing; that’s what I do all day. Stare at a wall and build worlds in my head, ones where I’m not trapped in a luxurious, gilded cage. Think about books Iwouldwrite if I didn’t have Killian looking over my shoulder. Contemplate the futility of everything.
“Lyra?” Killian prompts.
“Read, maybe,” I offer.
“No.”
I frown. “Pardon?”
“No,” he repeats. “You’ll be taking the meetings. You will find your prior enthusiasm, and you will get the ball rolling on this.” He stands from the bed and closes the distance between us, wrapping an arm around my waist. I tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “This emptiness doesn’t suit you, Little Bird. Where did your spark go?”
