TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) by Elisabeth Naughton

wrists. Cuts and bruises he knew all too well, because he lived with them daily thanks to the restraints. Cuts and bruises that hadn’t been on her skin earlier.
    “What happened to your wrists?”
    Her fingers faltered on the bandage, then she resumed wrapping and secured the end. “Nothing.”
    Bullshit it was nothing. His gaze traveled up her arms, to the collar of the long-sleeved, too-big T-shirt she wore. The neck gaped open, showing just a hint of skin above her breasts. Skin that also looked inflamed. Reaching out with his cuffed hands, he hooked his finger in the collar and tugged so he could see better.
    She’d been struck there, with a whip or flogger, he couldn’t tell which.
    She jerked back and slapped a hand over her chest, pressing the shirt closed. Disbelief flashed in her eyes, followed by a quick burst of horror she masked quickly.
    She pushed to her feet and glared down at him. “I could have you beaten for that.”
    “You already have.” And suddenly, a beating was the least of his concerns. His gaze skipped to her wrists. “What did he do to you?”
    She grasped her supplies from the floor and shoved them back into the bag, averting her eyes, moving quickly now to get away from him. “Nothing I didn’t ask him to do.”
    He’d hit a nerve. There was more she wasn’t saying. A lot more. That feeling that she was as much a prisoner in this hell as he slammed into Nick again.  
    “Your infection is down,” she said, still not looking his way. “You’ll be fine in another day.”
    She grasped the bag, crossed to the door, and slid a key into the lock from the inside. Nick wanted to ask what, exactly, they were healing him for, but then his gaze rolled over her. Over her frazzled appearance, the dark circles under her eyes, and her unkempt hair. And he realized she was exhausted. She obviously hadn’t slept much, and it had to be morning. She’d come to him sometime in the night and stayed.  
    He wanted to ask why. Why it had been her, why she hadn’t sent someone else, why she even cared if he lived or died. But he couldn’t. Because part of him didn’t want to hear the answer. And another part—the dark part—didn’t want to give her any reason never to come back.
    Metal scraped metal, the hinges creaked, and then the thick steel door swung inward. She took one step into the corridor.
    “Cynna.”
    Her feet stilled, but she didn’t turn. And in the silence, Nick’s pulse shot up. It was the first time he’d said her name, and he liked the sound of it. Liked the way it rolled off his tongue. Liked—more than anything—that she reacted. And suddenly wanted to hear her say his name back in that sinful voice of hers. Just once.
    His throat grew thick, and desire seared all through his body. A desire he now knew was focused solely on her. “Thank you.”
    She didn’t answer. He didn’t expect her to. But his body was hot and tight regardless. And as the cell door clanged shut in her wake, a bitter truth rang out.
    He wanted her. He wanted her naked and spread before him, crying out in that sexy, dominatrix voice. He wanted her on her knees, driving him wild with her sinful mouth, wanted her bound and bent over, shaking from his deep thrusts. He wanted her even knowing it was twisted in every way imaginable and that she should be the one person he hated above all others. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting. Because wanting her gave him something to focus on.
    And because for the first time in he didn’t know how long, he wanted someone other than his soul mate.

CHAPTER FIVE

    “T hat is not the answer I was hoping to hear.”
      Standing across Zagreus’s palatial office, Hades, the god-king of the Underworld and Zagreus’s pain-in-the-ass father, turned from the underwater-glass view he’d been staring at and pinned his son with a scathing look.
    Zagreus fought from rolling his eyes and kicked back in his chair. “These things take time. You brought him here for