“Paige.” He turns to me meeting my stare head on, I can tell he’s at war with himself by the sadness that seems to glisten in his eyes. There’s guilt there too, it’s clear as day as he gazes at me for a moment too long. Something inside niggles at me as my fear and curiosity meld together. It’s like staring directly into the eye of a storm—dark, frightening, yet intriguing—and I shudder at the thought.

Fear stills me for a moment, and I find myself rigid. Rooted to the spot. Watching him, I wait for his next move, but when he doesn’t shift, I decide to speak.

“I want to know why I’m here,” I say with a fake confidence that I don’t feel. “Please?” My question is low as I drop my voice to a whisper. His gaze is heated when he pins me with it. “I just need you to talk to me. Please?” From the way his body tenses, the way his dark eyes flit around the room I can tell he’s trying to ignore me. The silence is too thick, filled with tension as he works with the straps of leather. As I watch him, I see more than he thinks and recognize the anguish in his quick glances.

I should be afraid, but I’m confused as well. They both war inside my head. Screaming at me to figure out what’s going on, but also to behave so they don’t hurt me. Suddenly, he stops, stares directly through me and spits the words as if they taste like venom on his tongue. “You’re here because you fit the description of the product we provide. Men want sweet, innocent girls.”

His words shock me into silence. My brain falters, trying to make sense of what he just said. Red-hot fear races down my spine and my body quakes with horror as the words start making sense. I may not be as innocent as most girls, I know there are bad men out there, but to be thrown into the lion’s den like this, I find the lump in my throat making it difficult to swallow.

Lifting my chin, I glance at him trying to formulate my response. My father has always taught me to fight. Business is ruthless, he told me. Make sure you learn who your opponent is, and you’ll be able to take them down easily.

“What if I’m not innocent?” I bite out, but when he closes the distance between us, my body jolts as panic slams into me. He’s ferocious when he glares at me, but he doesn’t strike. He doesn’t say anything, he just watches me. Dark eyes hold me hostage in their feral stare. As much as I see the rage in his gaze as if he’s ready to rip me to pieces, he doesn’t touch me. He just observes. Like a predator. Matching the wolf’s mask that hides his face.

“Something tells me you are, little one.” He smirks then and it has me wanting to see more of his face. He’s beautifully built, almost perfectly so, and I imagine his face to be just as handsome. As if he can read my mind, he spins on his heel, lifting what looks like a whip from a hook on the wall and my stomach somersaults with anxiety.

“Are you going to take my virginity?” Words fall from my mouth unbidden, but the question stills him for a moment. His muscles tense in the T-shirt he’s wearing and it looks like he’s about to hulk out of it. He’s not big, but the lean muscle is taut in his shoulders and back. His head drops, the movement makes me think he wants to answer, wants to do what I just asked. Once again, he’s fighting between right and wrong.

“No, I’m not allowed to.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I’ve been stolen and brought to…” As my words taper off, I gesture around the darkened room, unsure of what to call it. A dungeon? A cellar? “I just need to know. What’s going to happen to me?” My voice sounds almost childlike as I implore him to give me answers. Not the cryptic ones he’s been feeding me so far.

Pulling the belt from his jeans, he reaches over and fastens it around my neck. “If you keep asking questions, I’m going to gag your pretty little mouth. It’s best that you accept where you are. I’ll only tell you what you need to know. It’s safer for you.” His warm breath fans over my face with a scent of coffee and mint. “Act like the perfect pet, and you’ll be just fine.”

I shiver as if I’ve been dunked in ice-cold water. I want to ask more questions, but instead I meet his eyes and nod. My lips are pursed tightly, but I’m dying to talk. All my life I’ve been told to speak up, ask questions. Being told the complete opposite is difficult for me to comprehend. I guess I am feisty. Which may have me ending up hurt, or worse.

Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. So I wait, my hands placed on my thighs hoping I’m coming across as submissive as he wants me to be.

For a moment, all he does is look at me. As if I’m a piece of art on display and he’s trying to figure out what I mean. The pupils of his eyes dilate, even though the irises are dark, I can see the movement. It’s hypnotic. Everything about this confuses me.

“I’m scared,” I tell him honestly. I don’t know why I’m trying to talk to him. Maybe to make him feel more human and less feral. He’s got an animalistic aura, besides the mask, there’s a rough edge to the deep rumble of his tone.

“I know, you should be.” That’s all he says before he tugs me along the floor and orders me to stand and bend over the large wooden table which sits against a concrete wall. There are whips, canes, and a few other things I don’t know the name of hanging from silver hooks.

An array of objects to the right of where we are sit in perfect order on a side table. Silver, glinting in the dark light, shaped like an ace of spades which is found on playing cards. I’ve heard girls giggling about things like that, but have never seen them up close.

“Those are butt plugs,” he speaks from behind me. I’m bent over, my eyes facing the wall in front of me, so I can’t see what he’s doing. There’s no shuffle of material, so I know he’s not moving around.

Anticipation tightens my belly with the fear of him hurting me with those silver things. Butt plugs. Even the name sounds like something that would hurt. Moving my head toward the left, I find another table, this one with bright pink, purple, and blue dildos. I know what they are since the girls at school told me about them.

I’m eighteen, still a virgin, but I know a few things about sex. I’ve just never had a boyfriend to even attempt it with. Moments pass in silence, but I’ve been in this position for what seems like hours. I want to once again say something, but my fear overrides the need to talk. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to relax into having my body bent at the waist. Suddenly, a harsh swat lands on my ass causing me to yelp.

“Don’t make a noise, little one,” he growls. There’s a lilt in his voice that makes me hyper aware of the same tone I’ve heard before. When my father’s associates used to come to the house and they’d talk to me. I didn’t think anything of it until now.

I recognize it from the way Samael spoke to me only last night. It’s desire. Pulling my lower lip between my teeth, I chew on it, hoping for salvation. Another swat and another land harshly on my ass. To keep from crying out, I bite down on my lip.

“So pretty. I want to see what you look like without panties,” he murmurs, which has me jolting upright, spinning to face him. I shouldn’t have done it because his eyes glower with anger. “Down!” he grunts and I immediately obey.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” The plea falls from my mouth, breathy and raspy. My stomach is tight with emotion that I don’t understand. I’m in a constant state of confusion and fear, but also anticipation of what’s coming next.

“I won’t hurt you if you behave,” he promises, to which I nod. I don’t know if I can believe him, or if I can trust him, but I close my eyes and wait. He tugs my panties down my legs gently. It’s such a complete contradiction of his earlier action that my knees buckle.

When he stops, my eyes snap open hoping to see what his next move is. I know he’s going to use one of the toys on me. Leaving my underwear at my knees, he moves around to the small table on the left of me and picks up a small white tube.

Questions burn my throat, unease settles heavily in my stomach. I hear the click of the lid and tears once again threaten. I’m bare to him. To his gaze. I feel it burning a hole through me, then the cold liquid drips onto my ass.

A tremble skitters down my spine. His fingers trace lines over the skin of my ass while he massages the cream into the burning flesh. “You have incredible skin, Paige,” he murmurs my name and somehow, it warms me.

His fingers dart between my legs, stroking the place no other man has touched before and I can’t stifle my shocked gasp at the feeling. It doesn’t hurt. Heat pools in my belly, but my mind races with how wrong this is. Why is my body responding? Why am I enjoying the way his fingers tease the flesh?

“You need to shave, little one.” His words have the effect I needed to stop my traitorous body. They douse me in ice water, straight into my veins.

“I-I… I’ve never—”

“I’ll have one of the other girls help you.” That’s all he says before pulling my panties back up. He tugs the leash allowing me to stand. “I’m taking you back to your room. You need to rest. Tomorrow we start your training.”