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"Go to hell," I shot back, the bravado ringing hollow in my ears.
The room swallowed me whole, devoid of warmth or life. A single bulb flickered overhead, its hum the only noise. The bed was a slab, uninviting and hard, with a thin blanket. Guess it's not much worse than what I came from. Certainly a step up from the cell. Small miracles.
"Like your accommodations?" he sneered, but his eyes, those deep blue abysses, flickered with something. Not quite soft, but... different.
"About as much as I like you."
"Good girl, got spirit." He stepped back, the distance cold, immediate.
"Monster."
"Your monster," he corrected, a twisted vow.
"Fuck you," I said, even as my body screamed other, darker wants. Turning from him, my fists clenched and unclenched.
"Maybe one day, Ella."
I turned back to him, heart in my throat, but the door slammed shut, his silhouette a final image etched into my memory before the click of the lock sealed my fate.
Tears pricked at my eyes.
"Fuck you, Chris," I muttered into the silence. "I'm not yours to break."
I curled on the bed, every muscle screaming in protest. Thoughts of Belle, of escape, swam through the haze of exhaustion. We weren't done yet; we couldn't be.
As sleep dragged me under, I clung to the visions of a world beyond these walls, a place where the sun still shone bright, and my spirit could soar free. It was a dream, distant and hazy, but it was mine—and no bastard could take that from me.
I paced, three steps across, five steps down. My mind raced, panicked and plotting. How had this become my reality? Kidnapped. Sold.
"Should've asked for a better view."
With each turn, I felt him, Chris—the inked beast who'd dragged me here. His touch – rough, sparked unwanted fire and haunted my skin.
Promise or curse? I recalled his parting words. The thought sent a fresh wave of shivers cascading down my spine—not all of them from fear.
Leaning against the cool wall, I allowed myself a moment, just a fraction of time, to close my eyes. To imagine sunlight, warmth, a world away from this bleak cell. But wishes were for fools, and I was nobody's fool.
My breath was a white puff in the chilled air. A cloud of dust rose as my body dropped onto the bed; a ghost freed from its resting place. It settled on my lashes as I sneezed.
Princess of the damned. I laughed, the sound hysterical, tearing at my throat. And Chris, prince of the fucking underworld.
The silence wrapped around me. Alone with my thoughts, I swallowed my panic. I had no option except to remain calm and think of how to get out of this mess. Instead, I lay there in the dim, the cold seeping into my bones, doubt crept in. How much darkness could I endure before my light flickered out?
Fuck this. I kicked at the metal bed rail, pain shooting up my leg, better than feeling nothing. Better than succumbing to the numbness that threatened to drown me.
"Hey!" I shouted, knowing no one would answer. "You hear me? I'm not broken yet!"
Silence was the only reply, a mocking retort to my defiance. My eyes burned and my mouth was dry. A lump formed in my throat, mocking my attempts at bravado. I blinked rapidly, willing the weakness away.
"Stop it," I whispered to myself. "Crying won't change shit."
But the dam broke, tears trailing unchecked down my cheeks.
Get it together. I smeared the wetness from my face with the back of my hand, smudging dirt along my skin.
I forced myself to stand, legs shaky but determined. The image of Chris's dark blue eyes haunted me. I’ll carve my way out of this hell, one way or another. But even as I scolded myself, I couldn't shake the allure of his contradictions—the hard lines of his inked body that promised danger, and the flicker of something else in his eyes. Something burning hot.
The walls seemed to close in, as panic of another kind rose in my chest. I pressed my face into the pillow, inhaling the musty scent, anything to distract from the chaos of my heart.
