AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A scaffold.
And the most sinister part is the rope dangling from the cross beam—a rope with a noose at the end.
Less than a second later, I’m stripped, bound, and suspended. Whatever power Nyxion possesses, he can manifest whatever he desires.
My body forms a pronounced arch. Ropes woven in a Shibari hold that binds my hands tight to the center of my back, my legs spread and my ankles positioned near my hands at the base of my spine.
A blindfold restricts my vision.
Graphic memories swirl in my mind, the trauma of that night scribbling pain and tightness along my spine.
How did he know? How did he know?!
My senses fire on all cylinders, my nipple piercings seem colder than usual, hardening the buds. A prickling along my spine contests with the heat surging to my lower regions. I’ve been to BDSM clubs in Europe, but I never wanted to try Shibari.
Considering the tapestry of tattoos all over my skin, I’ve hardly ever felt exposed—not even when stripped. But Nyxion…he said this place was for my deepest fears. I’ve never felt more vulnerable.
I throw my head from side to side, seeking him. “Where are you?”
A pause. But I sense his breath as it curls across my face, betraying his presence before me.
“Everywhere,” he whispers, crystallizing my blood.
“If this is your idea of ‘hanging around’, I think I’d rather count grains of sand.”
A low growl rumbles in his throat, and I lock up more, wondering what I said to set him off.
It’s a cruel contrast when he drapes bony fingers along my cheek and says deeply, “You will remain in this state until I decide otherwise, little killer.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Tender fingers, far too tender and affectionate, loop the noose around my throat, tightening it just enough to thin my breath without restricting it. I try to wriggle, but the rope squeezes more.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Zenya, I’d advise you not to move,” he scolds me while tracing a finger along the curve of my spine, along the spinal cord I have tattooed there—bloody and broken on the left and bursting with random flower sprigs on the right. “The more you struggle, the more the noose will tighten, and while I will enjoy some marks on your lovely throat, I would rather not return to find you strangled yourself.”
“You’re crazy,” I spit out, careful not to move, my muscles already protesting from the action.
“I prefercreative,” he says, his voice deep and velvety, and I clench my eyes, as he brushes his skeletal knuckles along the swell of my breast. When he takes my nipple between his thumb and finger and twists it, nothing can prevent me from jerking. I moan, throat contracting from the noose. When I arch more, it loosens, granting me a gasp of air.
I guess I’m a little crazy, too since something damp and warm forms in my center. Like a swirl of liquid heat.
“Hmm…the real question, my little killer, is are you?” His breath curls along my ear following his whisper. When pain stings my earlobe, I whimper, registering the nip of his teeth.
“Am I what?”
“Creative, Zenya. Can you turn your fear into a friend?” Those teeth roam to my throat in a delicate scrape, haunting my skin and spreading heated tingles. “Or a flower? Perhaps a fracture? Fangs…”
What the hell is he talking about?
“Or will you give into the darkness of this nightmare?” He finishes by curving every bone of his hand toward my heart. “I will be most eager to learn when I return. If I find you did not apply yourself, there will be a punishment.”
The second he turns, horror needles my spine. I arch my neck as much as possible and shriek, “You’re leaving me here? Like this?”
He turns his skull slightly, the barest curve of the jawbone showing. “You have everything you need, sweet dreamer.”
“Wait! Who are you? Please…just tell me who you really are,” I desperately gasp, eyes careening to the corners, begging through tears.
“I, Zenya Alice Myre, am your worst nightmare.”
