Page 12 of Chains of Blood and Darkness

I hoisted her over my shoulder and looked around desperately for a means of escape. Trystan had risen,blocking the door. Keir stood poised, fury flashing in his eyes as he advanced on me. The only way out was through the picture window.

Keir saw what I meant to do. “Santi, no.”

The room around me turned to a blur as I charged toward the closed window that stood as the only barrier between us and escape. The fury surging through my veins screamed for action, not caution.

Trystan was getting closer, his hot breath burning the back of my neck.

I put my shoulder to the glass like a wrecking ball. The window shattered with a resounding crash, shards flying like raindrops whipped up by a tempest. We were airborne for a moment that stretched into eternity, the night air rushing to meet us as we descended, the ground zooming up toward us.

We landed hard, a jarring impact that I somehow managed to shield her from with my own body. The grass beneath us did little to cushion the fall, but it was the softness of freedom compared to the bloody fray we had left behind. She would have the power to save my family, if I could only get her back to Crescent Manor.

I hurried to my waiting limousine, the sleek black vehicle already idling at the curb. Dimitri revved the powerful engine as I climbed inside. The tires squealed as we peeled out of the driveway and left Simon’s grand antebellum estates. With each ragged breath I took, fresh agony pulsed through me and blood spurted down my body from the long gashes from the Wolf King’s claws. My flesh hung from my arms, exposing the very bone. Exhaustion and agony gripped me. It would take some time for me to heal,especially with the Aeternum Stone fading. What used to only take a couple of hours to heal would need at least a day. I glanced through the tinted back window. I could see Trystan, still in his wolf form, and Keir standing in the dust kicked up by my speeding limo. Their grim expressions told me that I had just declared war on both the Wolf and the Dark Fae Mafias.

Chapter Six

Serenity

Boom Boom Boom

I groaned as I woke up with a pounding pain in my head. Sunlight pierced through gaps in the thick red curtains, and I cupped a shaky palm over my eyes to block it out. It felt like my head might split open at any moment.

My mouth had turned bitterly dry, and I couldn’t swallow. Water, I needed water. I scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. Wow. If this was a prison, it was nicer than any prison I’d ever seen on tv. The bedroom looked like it was something out of a five-star hotel. Rather than being handcuffed to a chair, a plush goose down comforter enveloped me. My gaze drifted over theroom, taking in the opulence and timeless elegance that surrounded me: High ceilings adorned with intricate moldings. Walls hung with tasteful art. A floor covered in a lush, deep red carpet that looked like it would swallow the sound of any movement. The air was perfumed with a subtle scent, an intoxicating blend that both comforted and soothed my pounding head.

But this was still a prison, and I was still someone’s captive.

I forced my aching muscles to stretch and sat up on the bed. My mind was still hazy as I emerged from the deep sleep I’d been in. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to collect my thoughts—a fragment of memory floating back to me of a deep, gravelly voice whispering in my ear,“It’s all right. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re mine.”

The words should have been comforting, but they filled me with a sense of impending doom. I had to escape this place, whatever it was, before it was too late.

I wiped the beads of sweat from my brow with a trembling hand. Beside the bed, a set of French doors stood slightly ajar, leading to freedom. Maybe this was my chance. I could jump out the window or possibly scream for help.

I flipped the quilt off me?—

Crapcrapcrapcrap

I was completely naked. How did I get like this? My breath caught in my throat, and my racing heart pumped against my ribs as tears pushed against the back of my eyes. God, was I destined to be somebody’s whore? I clenched my fists. Not happening. Not after I had escaped Freddie’s hell.

I wrapped myself in the comforter, dragging it behind me like the train of a wedding gown as I edged toward theFrench doors. A loud clink made me stiffen and glance over my shoulder. On a nightstand, there was a single glass of red wine next to a crystal decanter. I hadn’t even noticed they were there, and somehow the edge of the comforter had caught the stem of the glass. Anger shot through me like a flaming arrow. I gritted my teeth. Had some creep been watching me sleep? Whose wineglass was that? Did it belong to the same pervert who stripped me out of my dress?

I headed over toward the nightstand, but the comforter pushed the glass again, clinking it against the decanter and sloshing the wine back and forth.

I held my breath, afraid someone would burst through the door, but nothing happened. I disentangled the comforter from the nightstand and headed back toward the French doors. My hand shaking, I reached for the handle, determined to find help.

“You can’t escape,” a male voice said behind me.

Shit

I forced myself to turn to look at the perv who thought he had bought me. Probably some shriveled up, elderly dude. But I froze and my breath left me as I gazed up at the towering figure that seemed to blend the wildness of nature with an unmistakable air of genteel nobility. His long, dark hair framed a face that was both rugged and hauntingly beautiful, with stormy, deep-set green eyes. His muscular physique, visible even beneath his casually elegant attire, spoke of strength and agility. There was an intricate tattoo on his neck that snaked toward his jawline; its inky lines almost pulsing with a life of their own. Blood droplets blended seamlessly into a vine with roses that bloomed inshades of a deep crimson, their beauty contrasting against the danger represented by their sharp thorns. My gaze landed on his cheek where there were deep scratches. They only made him look more rugged. This was a man who clearly lived on the edge of danger.

And he terrified me.

“You can’t escape,” he repeated, his voice deep. It resonated not with malice but a certain seriousness. It made me realize it wasn’t a threat—just a simple statement of fact.

My chest constricted, and I fought to take a deep breath. “Why? Because you think you bought me?”

He cocked an amused eyebrow. “Think? Oh, I can assure you, you belong to me.” His words hung heavy in the air between us.

I lifted my chin, trying to hide the quiver in my voice and ignoring the way my hands were shaking at my sides. “I won’t be your whore.”

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