It wasn’tneedthat made her visit Evie at night to ensure she slept without nightmares. It wasn’tneedthat made her feel a strange, warm joy whenever she saw Evie smile or heard her laugh. And it wasn’tneedthat made her constantly wonder if Evie was safe, and which kept Natalya from checking in on how she was feeling whenever they were apart, even though she easily could and desperately wanted to. Evie didn’t like when she did it. Natalya wanted to respect that.
Evie made her want a lot of things. A lot of strange, unfamiliar things.
“It was one thing when it was just rumors,” Aleksander said. “Ms. Atkins is here because she helped you escape. For that, she’s owed Chains protection, unquestionably so. But the rumors of you fucking her were only harmless when there was no truth to them. Denying them now would be a direct deception.”
Aleksander put a small box on the table between them.
“You need to fix this.”
Natalya opened the box, revealing a purple tinted Chain pendant on a steel necklace. A symbol of their Ribbon contracts and a promise of sexual exclusivity. A mark that symbolized being Claimed. Something for Evie to wear.
She closed the box and pushed it away, repulsed both by its presence and the craving it started.
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s not a choice, Natalya. Something like this could be ignored for a lesser member of the Court, but not for you. My second cannot have a relationship with a human outside the contracts. It breaks our laws. It’s creating tension.”
“You know what she’s been through. She was a slave, Aleksander. She doesn’t want to belong to another again, and I sure as Sins am not going to ask her to be.”
Evie wouldn’t want that. She may accept it because she felt she had no choice, and that thought hurt more than anything. To have her submit, not because she wanted to, but because she felt forced.
Evie had already been through that. More than anyone deserved. Natalya would rather die than add any more hurt to her in that manner.
“Then it must stop.” His voice was harsh. It wasn’t Aleksander speaking. It was the King of Chains, and his word was law.
Natalya wanted to say it would, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It hurt too much. She didn’t want to go back to what she and Evie had been. Not when she knew how wonderful it could be.
She had enjoyed the benefits of the Purple-tiered contracts almost since the Ribbon system was founded. It was a way to ensure she was sated without committing to the full-time care or risk that came with the higher tiers. All her Purples she’d appreciated, all of them she’d enjoyed.
But all of them had wanted their service. They had volunteered for the position they were in. If she was the one who presented Evie with the idea of such a contract, she might accept it simply because she wanted to please Natalya. Evie was alreadytraumatized from serving a supernatural Court. She wouldn’t want to do so again.
Natalya wanted the impossible. She wanted submission freely. She wanted Evie freely. If the only way to have her was to force or manipulate her into submission, then Natalya couldn’t have her at all. The guilt of it would tear her apart.
Aleksander looked at her evenly. He saw what she wanted him to see. Resolve. Anger. Certainness. But the way his eyes softened suggested he saw the hurt too.
He eased the box with the purple Chain pendant into her dress suit pocket before getting to his feet.
“I’ll escort you to the edge of the territory. But we have to stop by the club floor first. I want to see Lily before we go.” His black eyes shined with flame. “That’s not an issue, is it?”
“Of course not,” Natalya said, standing. Even though the box with the pendant was light, it felt like a brick in her pocket. “No issue at all.”
Chapter 26
Five small stages had been set up in the Court of Chains, each with a hefty steel pole solid enough that it didn’t wobble. All of them were occupied, but the other stages may as well have been empty. Everyone was looking at Evie.
Early in the evening, she’d ascended the stage with the confidence of an expert. Evie had worked as a pole dancer since she was eighteen, and while she’d taken the job out of necessity at the time, she’d grown to like it. And shelovedthe stage.
The music in the Court of Chains wasn’t the same as what she was used to. It wasn’t low and sensual like it was in the Love Light. Not energetic and rhythmic like the songs she used for her classes and not at all like the classical pieces Varro had enjoyed. It was heavy, loud, and carnal.
She didn’t know what songs would play. She had no routine prepared. She could just lose herself to the beat of the music and ride the invigorating feeling of dancing for an audience until it made her smile so wide it hurt. She ascended the pole, spinningand stretching and sometimes dropping such a far distance it made the crowd gasp and then hoot as they realized her falling had been a conscious decision.
She rose, she spun, she laughed. And all the while, she could see her newfound friends laughing along with her. Lily looked in awe, Blake ecstatic, and Sam smiled so softly it was barely noticeable. Whenever Evie needed a break, she fell into the group of women who dragged her to the bar, smiling and laughing.
“Goddamn, Atkins,” Blake said after a few trips back and forth. She eyed Sam and coughed. “Anderson.”
“Surprised?” Evie said, grinning. “Thought I was lying, huh?”
“Exaggerating,” Blake corrected. “I didn’t think people could move that way in heels.”
