Page 21 of Captive Souls

The iciness of his tone was no match for the fire I felt inside at his words.

“I get that you’re under the impression that you have complete control over me since you took me against my will and have marooned me here in a cabin with you.” My fists clenched under the table, my voice steel. “And you may have control over those things, but you do not have complete control. I will not submit to your every will and whim. I may be your captive, but I am not your puppet.”

I considered myself an assertive person … in more of a passive way. I’d never really rocked the boat with friends, lovers, bosses. I shied away from conflict as a survival instinct since I knew what happened when life turned ugly. If there was any situation where I should’ve shied away from conflict, it was in that cabin in the middle of nowhere with a monster, yet I didn’t. I held on to what little was left of my agency, and I refused to let it go.

Though I was proud of my little speech, how strong and unyielding I’d sounded, Knox didn’t seem the slightest bit impressed. Or even mad.

Though the contours of his face stayed the same, I could’ve sworn he seemed … amused.

That only served to stoke the fire of my fury further.

But before I could do or say anything more, his utensils were on his plate, his chair was out from under the table, and the scrape of wood against the floor entered my ears.

I was moving.

Caged in by him. His hands were on either side of my chair, his thumbs almost brushing my thighs. His body surrounded me, his heady, masculine scent, face inches from mine.

My entire body tensed, and my head throbbed with terror.

He’d never stopped being dangerous or deadly. Even when doing something as benign as eating. I’d figured he’d stop being deadly when his heart ceased beating. But part of me had gotten used to it. Or gotten used to the undercurrent of fear I felt in his presence.

But his entire energy had changed. This was not a passive undercurrent of fear he was eliciting. It was heart-stopping terror as his eyes held mine hostage.

Luckily, I had just emptied my bladder because if I hadn’t, I might’ve wet myself.

My eyes roved over his face, pale, high cheekbones, sharp jaw. His dark brow was heavy with a tiny whisper of a scar at the edge of his eyes, the one mar in the perfect features of his face. His eyes were glaciers, ice blue with a solid azure ring around them. Riveting, interesting, unique.

Knox leaned in even closer. For one insane moment, I thought he might kiss me.

It should’ve roiled my belly with disgust; instead, my heart merely thundered as my palms started to sweat. I squirmed for reasons other than discomfort, instantly forcing myself to ignore that. This was not the time nor the place to inspect my body’s highly inappropriate reactions to my kidnapper.

But he didn’t kiss me. His head shifted, barely brushing my cheek with his hair as his lips hovered over my ears. Though he was so close I could feel his energy imprinting onto mine, hindering my breathing, my heartbeat and ability to stay calm, he wasn’t actually touching me.

He seemed to be very careful to ensure that.

“In this cabin, in these woods, you are myeverything.” His whispered words were both a blade and a weight settling against my shoulders with their certainty. “You are my captive. My puppet. My toy. My pet. Your survival depends on me.” Hepaused, and I could feel his warm breath on my ear. It should’ve been icy cold for all the chill in his tone.

Yet heat surged through me.

Along with fury. Contempt. My hands bit into my thighs, digging into my jeans and the flesh beneath. Why didn’t I lash out at him with those hands? Rake my hands through that unmarked skin? Even though it looked to be made of stone, he was human. If cut, he’d bleed.

But I stayed where I was, an insect under his microscope.

“Your mental state depends on whether I feel like breaking you or not.” His voice was featherlight as his eyes seared through my very soul. “Which I will. It’s up to me how many pieces you shatter into.”

The silence that cloaked us was thicker than the starless night outside.

He hovered there for longer than was comfortable, bearable, before he finally straightened.

I’d hoped the way I stared at him conveyed the level of my hatred, hatred for his presence, his lack of a fucking heart. The fear he instilled in me. The paralyzing terror I’d promised myself a man would never elicit in me again.

“I know it’s a human survival instinct to deceive yourself into thinking you have control over your actions, surroundings or survival, Ms. Matthews. Most of the time, it’s just delusion with free will scattered sporadically. But none of that exists here.” He sat back down in his chair, casually resuming his meal as if he hadn’t just essentially threatened my life and mental health.

“Eat.” He stabbed the dead flesh with his fork, his eyes containing more intensity, more emotion, than I’d yet to see in them. “Or starve.”

A challenge. Posed as if he didn’t care if I withered away to nothing but a skeleton right in front of his eyes. My survival mattered that little to him.Imattered that little to him. He was amonster, dehumanizing me, turning me into nothing more than a … pet. Reliant on him for everything, down to food and water.

My teeth gnashed together until my jaw hurt.

---