Page 150 of The Harbinger

What did he use that for?

“Keep your eyes on me.” He gave the leash a sharp tug and kneeled beside me, his hand on my shoulder. I hissed as his thumb pressed into my branding, his fingers brushing against my untreated gash. “Hold out your hands.”

Shying away from his touch, I sat back on my haunches and held out my arms, my gaze trained on him. He secured the second cord around my wrist, then grabbed onto the loose lashings between and rose to his feet, tugging me along with him.

My stomach fluttered, and my nipples hardened as he moved me back two steps, guiding my arms above my head.

Goosebumps chased after his fingertips as they brushed over my body. His warm breath moved over my neck in liquor-induced waves as he attached the leash to my wrist bindings, then strung it through a D-ring hanging from a chain attached to the ceiling and pulled tight.

A surge of panic flooded through me, my heart pounding fiercely as my airway constricted, the flats of my toes my only contact with the ground.

He was going to hang me.Was he so angry I’d disobeyed him, he’d fulfill his promise and teach me a deadly lesson. Who needed the altar when I could die right in his home?

“Relax,milaya,”he whispered as he finished the knot above my head.

I teetered on the balls of my feet, the calming tone of his voice doing nothing to quell the terror that seized hold of me. The tendrils of fear slithered through my consciousness with a savage intensity, coiling around my thoughts and tightening their grip on my psyche.

“Easy now.” His hand skimmed down my spine as he circled me, my neck cocked to one side as the rope pulled. “The more you struggle, the harder it will be to breathe.”

He’d said there was a twist to his little game…

“There you go.” He stepped away from me and walked to the dresser, his healing brand my stark reminder of his devotion. “Deep breaths. Pace yourself.” Digging into a drawer, he pulled out a coil of rope. “Let’s see how well you can handle pain when your blood is at the surface.”

Chapter 36

Mia

Mykneesachedfromthe strain, the tendons pulling tight and screaming as though they’d pop and break off each sinew string at a time, and in turn, caused my toes to tingle with frightening numbness behind me.

No longer did my feet dangle and dance across the floor for purchase, but they were pulled behind me, my body supported with yards of thick woven rope that hung from the ceiling. He’d bound my calves to my thighs and swirled ropes around my breasts, swelling them into peaks.

He’d weaved and twisted rope to cover every inch of me. Even my fingers were locked in against the tight leash at my throat, unable to move or grasp a single item, and my hair was tied into the design. It made my throat visible to him, the rope around it easily accessible so he could loosen and tighten it during preparation.

Now he stood in the corner, overlooking my body suspended in the air, manipulated into his masterful art piece.

For the longest time, he stared, my body settling into my confines as gravity dug the rope into my bones and skin, my high gone without a trace, except the slight numbness of vodka flowing freely.

I bit my tongue whenFuego’svoice whispered around me, hiding his existence from Sacha. It wasn’t easy, and the copper taste in my mouth turned my stomach.

“When I first saw the markings on your back, your birthright, I’d planned to bring a blade across your throat and watch your blood flow to the five pinnacles at my altar.”

His deep, tortured voice defiled the air around me, and my shudder rattled the chains above me.

What mark? Birthright?

“But the more you opened your mouth and showed me your tortured soul, the more I wanted to have my wicked way with you, and the less I wanted you free.”

He stalked closer, a shining silver object concealed in his hand.

I pulled on my ropes, testing their fortitude, their resilience biting into my skin, my trachea closing.

“Don’t struggle…” He paused. “Or do. Either way, your pain will be my pleasure.”

He grabbed my cheek, his fingers digging into them, grinding my tender flesh against my molars.

“When I’m finished with you, the thought of any vise entering your body, other than me, will turn your skin to ash and your stomach to coal-black sickness.”

His mouth crashed onto mine, our teeth clacking together, the pillow of lips between. His tongue pierced through my pressed lips with ease, and our vodka-coated tongues swirled with want and desire.

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