The Perditor snorted.For what? You’ll be in a cage.
No one cages a Morph. At least, not for long.He sent a pulse of support to Nikolai and felt the tiniest hint of curiosity. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.
Lucas kept his head bowed as the Dires dragged him. Slumped over as he was, his borrowed golden hair almost hung to the ground. The heavy beads braided into it swung with every step.
As Ash had foretold, no one paid the slightest bit of attention to them.
They half-carried Lucas into the cell. He wasn’t worried about the bars, although he scanned them out of the corner of his eye as they passed, measuring the distance between them.
Demeti paused outside and gestured to someone. “You! Throw some straw down in here.”
A young male Liberi looked up from where he was sweeping the cave floor clean of debris. Possibly a Bellati in the making—he had the same proud, ramrod carriage. The look he cast Demeti had hints of disgust, but he merely raised a hand in acknowledgment and vanished up the hall.
Another figure appeared in the doorway. Tall, slender—Finn, hurrying toward them.
He stopped at the sight of Lucas suspended between two Dires. “It’s him. It’s really him.”
Demeti nodded. “Yes. Foolish of him to put himself close enough for a direct hit. But Dragons are known for their arrogance.”
Finn held up a metal bar. “I brought the collar.”
“Excellent.” Demeti walked into Lucas’s personal bubble and fisted a hand in his hair, lifting his head.
Lucas took care that it was Ash’s silver gaze that blinked back at them.
Demeti leaned so close he smelled the Torshin’s rotten breath. “We are going to have such fun, you and I. Don’t even bother growing your scales. Once I have that collar on you, you won’t be keeping them, anyway.” He gestured to the Dires. “Hold him up.”
One hesitated. “He’s waking up, Boss.”
Demeti glowered at him. “Are you doubting my ability? Here, surrounded by all this crystal?”
The Dire lowered his head. “No, Boss. Of course not.” Together with his pack mate, he helped shove Lucas up against the wall.
Demeti held out a hand for the bar, and Finn gave it to him.
Lucas began to struggle. Not just because he knew what that collar could do, but because Ash would have. No one would willingly submit to being collared.
The Dires grunted with effort but held him against the cold stone. The moment Demeti touched the bar to his throat, the metal came to life. It softened, growing molten as it shaped itself to his neck. It burned hot against his skin, but it was nothing compared to what it did to his mind.
It was as though worms of fire entered his brain, burrowing in deep. His thrashing against the Dires seemed real, because it was. But it was to no avail.
Within moments, the collar cooled. Demeti grinned down at him. And then stepped in close, his hand reaching to cup Lucas’s most personal bits.
Lucas shuddered, but with revulsion. Ash’s body was not his own. It was not wired to betray him. As Demeti leaned in, breathing heavily, Lucas turned his face away so the Torshin couldn’t witness his relief.
“You have put on some muscle,” Demeti purred. “Not the same scrawny scarecrow you used to be.” He licked his lips. “I like it.”
Lucas closed his eyes, refusing to show how much the lust infused through the words quivered through him. This was Ash’s nightmare, not his own.
Unable to get a suitable response, Demeti decided to go for pain instead. He squeezed so hard Lucas’s breath left him in a gasp of agony. But it didn’t matter. He could handle the pain. It was vastly preferable to the alternative.
Demeti must have sensed something of his relief, because the Torshin hissed and stepped back.
“Let him go,” he ordered the Dires, and raised glowing hands.
They stepped away, and Lucas let himself slump to the ground. He knew what was coming, but when the Torshin activated the collar, the pain overwhelmed him. He heard himself scream and held on to the morph only through sheer determination.
Lucas!Nikolai sounded frantic.
