Page 20 of Unhallowed

Submitting.

Killian comes closer to me, shuffling his bare feet along the hardwood floors that match the logs on the walls, some kind of pine color. “Something has changed, baby brother.” I narrow my eyes at him and he steps even closer, his forehead meeting mine, his nose brushing against my own. I don’t move, stunned by the intimacy of it. This isn’t what we do. Fuck? Yeah, we’ve done that before. But this… is different. “You see, I’ve spoken to Dux.”

Not father.

Dux.

This is official business.

“And he has granted me something.” He continues. “Angel.”

“Don’t lie,” I say through narrowed eyes. “He’d never do that. He promised me—”

“Her?” He scoffs. “We share everything, Drav. It’s what soulmates do. So let’s share her.”

“Never.” I raise my chin at him, and this time he slips his hand around my neck, softly squeezing. My warning to stop being a fucking brat. “Not her.”

“Never?” He laughs. “Then you leave me no choice.”

My hands come around his neck and I squeeze hard. He squeezes back one-handed, unaffected until he starts turning red. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Men come flooding into the groom’s suite, in expensive, un-creased suits. My father’s goons. Killian’s goons. My goons. But they don’t seem to fucking care about me at the moment.

Killian pushes my chin up, making me look up at the ceiling, and my hands slip from his neck with the pain. His fingers pry my jaw at a pressure point, and my mouth immediately opens with the pain. I gasp when I feel something sharp at the side of my neck, my eyes turning blurry, white spots dancing like ballerinas across my vision. Slow, taunting, spinning. I fight back, but then I feel a prick on the side of my neck, a liquid entering my body, and he lets go of me abruptly.

I lunge for him as he steps back, a taunting smile on his face. “Sorry, baby.” He grins as I try to get him, but just as I make it to him, I’m hauled back by the guards. “I’m keeping her. And daddy dearest approved, so no one will be looking for you.”

I begin to buck against the guards, freeing my dominant arm and swinging at all of them, feeling my knuckles shift when my fist connects with a face. But not the face I want, no, that one stands across the room from me.

Continuing to fight, I release my other hand and fight back again. Now both my hands have connected with someone, my fist aching like it’s broken. But I don’t care, I do not fucking care! This cannot be happening.

She. Is. Mine.

The guards shuffle along and out of the room, pulling me high until my feet are dragging and I can’t plant them on the floor. I know exactly where they’re taking me—the fucking basement. Where people go to die. I fight some more, but my body begins to tire. I start to go limp, my limbs not functioning anymore. I feel heavy, and the last I see of Killian is him walking away from me—back to the groom’s suite.

My traitorous eyes begin to close of their own accord, without my permission, and a cold gust of air meets my face as we descend the steps. They drop me on the floor, my head bouncing slightly on the concrete, and I lie on my side.

I’m so fucking tired—

The basement is dimly lit as I pace it, the drugs no longer in my system. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, probably hours if I’m guessing correctly, and my skin is itching to get the fuck out.

I scream, an anguished sound even to my ears, and my throat hurts from the force of it. My heart thunders in my ears as I see him fucking her in my mind, pleasuring her—owningher. Right in front of everyone. The tears that fill my eyes are from the anger burning in my veins though, there’s nothing sad about them. Although my heart still compresses in my chest and the tears that clog my throat are bringing me pain.

My bare feet feel raw from the concrete rubbing against them, and there are little blood stains left in my wake. The betrayal riding on my back threatens to pin me to the ground. I can’t believe he drugged me, stuck a needle in the side of my neck and knocked me out. When I woke up, I was here. Locked in, no way out.

Fear should be dominating my body right now, especially with my claustrophobia, but instead all I feel is rage. And that’s all I want to focus on because if I think of how I’m trapped in here with no knowledge of when I’ll get out…I might pass out.

I never told anyone about the basement—the one I was trapped in with my girl. Not my dad, not Killian. The only one who knows about it is Angel, and the only reason my father knows about her is because I needed her to be collected. I couldn’t do it myself, they would’ve never given her to me, and all that mattered was getting her out. My father doesn’t particularly care about who I marry, and I told him I wanted her.

Only her.

Alwaysher.

He gave me his blessing, but something tells me he blessed Killian too—just as he told me. After all, that’s his son. He acts like I am too, but I know the truth.

The door opens as I pace the basement frantically, and my heart beats a little faster. Okay, that’s a lie. A lot fucking faster. The drumming in my ears drowns everything out, I stumble but right myself quickly. I can barely hear the footsteps that echo as someone descends the steps.Dux, my father appears, his robe down and his bright blue eyes fixed on me. He scratches at his five o’clock shadow, and it pisses me off even further. He looksjustlike Killian.

He comes down and stops right at the bottom step, staring at me briefly before glancing around at the shitty conditions. This is not where people come to hang out, this is where people come to die. Then again, everywhere that concerns us is where people come to die, but the Black Cabin at Pine Pinnacle? This is where people come to either seek pleasure, give pleasure, or get sacrificed. Usually in that order. But the basement is frigid, the chains hanging from the ceiling taunting me, and the blood stains that will never come out tell a tale of what could very well be happening to me if I defied them on this. But I’d rather die than lose her.

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