Page 32 of The Doll and The Domination

And with that, we come to a stop. His arms disappear from around my body. Air cradles me, tossing my hair around my face as I fall. The floor crashes into the back of my head, hard and fast. I groan before turning my head to vomit. It spills over my chapped lips, all stomach acid and bile.

“Did that hurt?” A sickening smile colors his tone.

Momentary shock and betrayal scourge their way between my breasts. Between the fall and his sudden twisted change in ego, the nerves in my spine are set on fire. What the fuck is this?

“I said…did—that—hurt?” He overly enunciates as if he’s speaking to a child.

Every single drop of my blood drains to the south of my body. The silence that follows his condescending voice is suffocating, eerily agitating, like listening to a fork scrape over a plate. And my heart, my poor, stupid heart. How could I have fallen for this? What was I thinking?

Duplicity clogs my veins. I can hardly breathe while I’m filled to the brim with anger.

My fingernails dig into my palms. “Nope.”

“Pity. Now get up and walk, future sister-in-law.” He kicks me in the back with the tip of his boot. I hiss but scramble to my feet, determined not to show him weakness.

“You have one strike out of three. Do you want to hear your punishment?”

I grind my teeth until I give myself a headache. It’s unnerving to hear the man I love in his voice. To see his face covered in a beard and piercings. I want to cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. But I just keep looking forward at the dark hallway illuminated by the circus lighting. Fool me once.

“It’s called The Hunt.”

Goodie.

I take a quick glance at my arms. Specks of blood. Numbly, I pat my fingers over my chin, throat, and face. Wet. Drizzling. Blood.

“Did you think I’d pity you for that sad excuse of your tantrum?”

My heart gives a vicious thump.

How could I have believed that act?

“Can we get on with this game?” I ask with boredom drooping my eyes.

I roll my shoulder back, force myself to my feet, and drill my focus on the task he’s given me.

The Hunt.

8. Hear Me

Skylenna

At the end of the hall, we stand in front of a wide brass door. It’s old, rusted, and covered in claw marks. Kaspias steps around me, unlatching the door and tugging it open. A fog creeps out, carrying the stench of gunk from the inside of a drainpipe and bad breath.

“I heard you aren’t fond of dark, enclosed spaces,” Kaspias purrs, keeping his back to me.

I gulp, and my hands tingle with anticipation. Leaning forward, I try to get a better look inside. There is no floor. Only brimstone walls, and a black, endless drop.

I step back, ready to fight him on this. I’m half his size, half his brawn. But I know how to fight, and unfortunately, he probably does, too. Getting a good look at him, he’s tanner than Dessin. Arms and chest have more hair. And he looks like he’s scarred from head to toe.

He smirks. A lip ring glinting in the dim light. “You think you can fight your way out of this?”

“I think I could slit both your wrists before you had a chance to blink,” I say calmly. If I wanted to, I could reach into his mind. I could pull his least favorite memories to the surface. I could make him drown. But he’s Kane’s twin brother. He’s Kaspias Valdawell. Taken as a baby. Forced to train before Kane was ever taken by Demechnef.

Despite his previous trick, the ease with which he could betray me without remorse, I have to give him the chance to show me he has the same heart, the same blood, as Sophia. There must be a soul deep down.

“I’m going to enjoy hearing you cry. Can I get one tear before you lose your footing?” He has this expression that I can’t help but find annoying. A childlike taunting. An immature inflation of self-esteem.

“I’d never cry for you,” I whisper, feeling my vision start to blur. “But by the time I leave this prison, I’ll watch you weep like a child.”

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