Page 46
I force myself to roll over, every inch of me screaming in pain, and begin to crawl away, my vision blurring. The bond claws at my mind, insidious and dark, like chains tightening around my thoughts, dragging me back toward him even as I try to escape. But I fight it, digging my nails into the concrete floor, pulling myself forward, inch by agonizing inch.
A hand grips my hair again, yanking me back, and the world spins as my head is slammed into the ground. Pain explodes through my skull, bright and sickening, stars bursting in my vision as I struggle to remain conscious. Rhett’s face looms above me, a mask of fury and blood, his lips pulled back in a snarl.
“You think you can just run away from me?” His voice is venomous, each word dripping with malice. His blood drips onto my face, hot and sticky, mixing with my own as he tightens his grip on my hair, forcing me to look at him. “You’re mine now, Aubrey. There’s nowhere you can go.”
I can barely breathe, each word hitting me like a blow. The bond is seeping through me, making it harder to resist, harder to think. A dark, oppressive weight settles in my chest, suffocating, binding. I can feel his emotions mingling with mine, a torrent of rage and possessiveness, a sickening blend that claws at my mind, demanding submission.
Bianca moves beside him, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as she watches me struggle. “You look pathetic,” she sneers, folding her arms. “Just give up. You lost the second he marked you.”
I choke on a gasp, refusing to let them see the despair clawing at my heart. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes, I fight them back, forcing myself to keep going, to keep resisting. I might be bound to him now, but I am not broken. Not yet.
“Let her go, Rhett. She needs to learn her place.” Bianca’s voice is low, cold, and Rhett’s grip loosens just slightly, his hand sliding down from my hair to my shoulder, pressing me into the ground.
I take advantage of the moment, drawing on the last reserves of my strength. With a burst of defiance, I dig my claws into his arm, twisting and scratching, feeling his flesh give way under my nails. Rhett howls in pain, jerking back, and I scramble to my feet, swaying as I try to regain my balance. My head is pounding, vision swimming, yet I refuse to go down.
“You little—!” Rhett lunges at me, and I stagger back, my legs barely holding me up as I fumble for something to grab—anything to defend myself. My hand closes around a shard of glass from a broken bottle lying on the floor, and without thinking, I raise it, pointing it at him.
He pauses, a flicker of something—hesitation, caution—crossing his face as he assesses me. For a moment, we stand there, locked in a silent standoff, his eyes blazing with fury, mine filled with a desperate resolve. I can’t beat him, not in this state, not with the bond trying to drag me to my knees. But I’ll die before I let him take me willingly.
Bianca’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone mocking. “What are you going to do, Aubrey? Stab him? You don’t have it in you.”
The bond claws at me from inside, a dark, insidious presence winding its way through my mind, whispering surrender. I can feel it growing stronger, like roots sinking deep into my soul, twisting around my thoughts, making it harder to resist. A strange ache blooms in my chest, something foreign and unnatural, urging me to give in, to obey him.
The pull is both terrifying and magnetic. I can feel myself wavering, a sick part of me drawn to him, wanting to bend, to let go of the fight, despite the hatred burning inside me. I grit my teeth, digging my nails into my palm, trying to hold onto anything that’s me, anything that isn’t touched by him.
“You’re fighting a losing battle, Aubrey,” Rhett sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. His gaze locks onto mine, and I see the dark satisfaction in his eyes, the pleasure he takes in my helplessness. “The bond will win. It’s only a matter of time.”
Chapter 22
• Aubrey •
“No,” I whisper, my voice cracking. I tighten my grip on the shard of glass in my hand, holding it up between us. The edges slice into my skin, but the pain is grounding, a reminder of who I am. “I’ll never be yours.”
He laughs, a low, mocking sound, “Oh, you will. It’s in your blood now, in every part of you.” He takes a step closer, his presence overpowering, a weight pressing down on me. “And soon, you’ll see there’s no point in fighting.”
I clutch the glass tighter, raising it in a final act of defiance. My hand shakes, the bond’s pull making my muscles weak, making my heart betray me with a longing to submit that isn’t my own. I feel the connection like a poison in my veins, corrupting my thoughts, whispering that giving in would be so much easier.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Rhett murmurs, his voice dropping to a cold, almost soothing tone. “All that fighting… and for what?” He reaches forward, his hand brushing my wrist, and a shudder runs through me. The bond hums between us, intensifying, sinking deeper, binding tighter, and I feel my resistance starting to crack.
“No,” I gasp, trying to pull back. He’s too close. His hand clamps down on my arm, and the shard slips from my fingers, clattering uselessly to the ground. The weight of the bond is suffocating now, pressing down on me, hollowing me out, filling me with a need to please him, to belong to him. My mind screams in protest, but my body betrays me, drawn to his touch despite every cell of my being revolting.
“See?” he whispers, his tone laced with dark triumph. “It’s already starting. Soon, you won’t have the strength to fight at all.”
I twist in his grip, when his other hand catches my shoulder, slamming me back against the wall. My vision swims, spots dancing before my eyes as pain explodes at the back of my skull. I gasp, my legs weakening, but I force myself to stand, to resist him even as the bond tugs me closer, a strange, sick ache urging me to let him take control.
Rhett’s face is inches from mine, his eyes blazing with possession, with the thrill of knowing he’s breaking me. “You’ll learn to obey, Aubrey,” he growls, his voice a dark promise. “Whether you want to or not.”
I try to push him away, to claw at him one last time, but my limbs are heavy and sluggish, the bond dulling my movements as it tries to knock me out. How I managed to remain awake when he has marked me is beyond me. Everyone I know passes out as the bond forges. The bond is winning now, it’s stealing my strength. His fingers tighten around my throat, cutting off my air as he presses me harder against the wall. My vision darkens at the edges, the world slipping into shadow as I struggle for breath, panic rising as I realize I’m losing, that the bond has its claws too deep, pulling me down.
“Goodnight, Aubrey,” Rhett murmurs, his voice a mocking caress as his hand jerks my head to the side. The last thing I see is his cruel, triumphant smile before he slams his fist into my temple.
My head is slumped forward on my chest and throbbing as I awaken with a sharp jolt. Lifting it takes a huge amount of effort. The cool, musty air of a dimly lit room presses against my skin, and I feel the cold, rough wood of a chair beneath me. I can’t seem to find the source of the pain in my head, only that it’s making even my eyes pulsate.
Stretching my fingers, I try to get the blood flowing through my hands. I try to move, but the tight ropes around my wrists bite into my skin, pulling a sharp breath from my lungs as I try to twist my wrists free. With each movement, the rope bites in deeper, chafing my wrists and burning the flesh.
I peer around, trying to gauge where they’ve taken me now. The room is dark, with dim light filtering through cracks in the walls. I know I’m not in the same place as before. It smells of dust and old wood and when I sniff the air, the scent of salt from the ocean is the only indication of where I am. I’m at least still at the docks, only I’m above ground this time. It’s some sort of storage room—bare, save for a few crates stacked in the corners. The shapes of old, neglected furniture scattered about is all I can see as my eyes adjust to the lighting. The pounding headache isn’t helping, and the blood is making my eyes sticky with each blink of my eyes. I may have a concussion.
Peering around the dimly lit room, I search for a sign of Rhett’s presence and I sniff the air for his scent. I can’t smell much besides the dust and my own blood. Shifting my weight, the worn wood of the chair creaks beneath me as I try to twist, scanning every corner. He is nowhere to be seen. A strange sensation begins to creep into my chest - a sense of relief so profound it’s almost sickening. It washes over me, filling the hollow space where fear has taken root. My gaze continues to dance around the room, and then I see her. Bianca.
