Page 6 of Golden Desires

“You will be ready in two hours, or I’ll break your fucking fingers and drag you out of here by your hair,” Talia hisses at me from the doorway. “If you embarrass us, I will make the last eighteen years look heavenly.” My stepmother’s threat is clear. More violence and pain await me if I don’t comply. Her cruel expression does nothing to improve her appearance. The brown hair that hangs limply down her back, and the murky blue eyes flash cruelly at me in satisfaction.

I simply nod at her. I know better than to argue. I take my time cleaning my entire body several times. I have nothing better to do.

I’m in a daze as I dry myself off with a thin towel. Brushing my hair with the broken comb that sits on the washing basin, I barely attempt to tame the waves hanging around my face before going through the motions of dressing myself. I don’t care how I look, so I don’t bother looking closely in the mirror.

Surprisingly, though, the dress is pretty. It’s long, and soft, but more revealing than anything I have owned or would have chosen for myself. Probably the nicest thing I’ve worn in my life.

Once I’m finished, I stare out the small bathroom window for a long while, waiting until the last possible moment to face my parents.

As I step into the living area, my father, Patrick, takes in the sight of me. At first, it looks as if his features soften. If only for a second, before they harden once more.

“Omega.” He spits the word out like a curse. Sometimes I remember the man he was, all those years ago. Slightly shorter than the average Alpha, he was once strong and warm. He fiddles with his shirt sleeve as his shoulders tense. His wrinkled skin cracks with scowl lines around his dead brown eyes as he glares. I thought he could love me once. Before my mother died. Now all I see is hatred when he looks at me.

My father nods to his wife and then toward me, refusing to look at me again. I’m dragged out of the house, with a firm grip on my arm. They must think I’ll run. I won’t.

I already failed to make my escape. I won’t try again.

Father trails behind us. His anger and years of pent-up pain turn his scent sour. Stepmother is no better, with her jealousy and venomous hatred making her smell like spoiled milk.

We make it to Donald Poller’s estate in just a few short minutes.

Standing in front of the huge carved door, the disparaging differences between the Poller’s estate and our own three-room house are blatantly clear. The waste of resources on such a large scale makes me queasy. While Donald lives in luxury, there are many in the village who don’t even have enough food to feed their family.

I try to convince myself this won’t be so bad. That I’ll be okay here. Maybe I can use my new status to make a difference in this village. But what happens next sends all those silly hopes scattering in the wind.

“Put her in there, Talia!” I hear Donald snap from where we stand in the doorway. I don’t see him, or the room he gestures to, but my stepmother does. “I want a moment alone with my bride to be.” A shiver travels down my spine at his tone. But what sends fear slithering through my veins is the look on my stepmother’s face as she shoves me into a small drawing room.

“He’s going to rip you apart, Goldie, from the inside out. He’s going to make you bleed…” She hisses the words, punctuating them with a chuckle, before quickly stepping out of the room just as Donald enters.

“You look like a whore…my whore…” Donald snarls, the smile on his face makes my stomach flip. My heart is racing. My skin is sticky with sweat. The terror in my soul grips my heart so tightly that my lungs seize. I stumble backward, desperate to put space between us, but Donald grabs my arms, yanking me into him. “This will be mine in just a few moments. I’ve arranged to have everyone sent home as soon as the ceremony is complete. I want to have my pecker in you before the sun sets!” His laugh is a vile thing, as my body shakes violently. He shoves his hand between my thighs, gripping my most intimate parts, and I yelp. “I’m going to rip you apart with my knot, Omega,” he chuckles at the look of fear on my face, before turning away from me. “The ceremony will start in just a moment, leave her in there,” he says to my stepmother as he steps out of the room. I see the look she shoots at me as the door shuts behind Donald. The idea of him destroying my body excites her.

A soul deep sob escapes my lips as I fall to my knees.

I’d rather die… I would rather fucking die!

The realization hits me harder than my father's fist. I would rather die than become Donald’s whore…

My prior attempt to escape may have failed, but there is no escaping death. I will run, or I will die. There is no other option.

The fear I felt in the forest just two hours ago seems like a silly thing now. A fear I’ve had since my mother's funeral. I was just four years old when I ran off into the forest alone, sobbing over the flowers I stole off her grave.

The monsters came for me then.

I would rather be eaten alive by those monsters than allow Donald access to my body.

I’ve never felt fear this bone deep. A yawning chasm of despair in my soul.

Because even though I spent sixteen years getting my ass beat by the man who contributed to my existence, and the woman he married three days after my mother’s death, they never violated me.

They broke my body time and time again, but they could never reach my mind or my spirit. I know with every fiber of my being that Donald will break me.

He’ll break my body, my mind, and my spirit in one night. With one act.

Frantically, I search the room for a weapon. Other than the gaudy couch and chairs, there’s nothing to defend myself with. I have to act fast, or I’m doomed.

Rushing to the large window, I tug the wrought iron handle, shocked to find it opens easily. Fools…leaving me alone in here… Maybe they believe they’ll catch me if I run.

They might have, but I have something they don’t. A loyal companion.

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