Page 6 of Fall

Where am I?

No matter how I try to remember what had happened after I passed out—was drugged—nothing comes to me. I guess I really have been completely out of it, and that thought unsettles me.

What if they did something to me, and I just can’t remember?

But…I don’t feel any different. I don’t feel bad at all, except for the twisting anxiety in my stomach and the way I want to yodel my fears into the air. Still, the thought makes me rub my arms as if there’s something on my skin, and I push away from the window to trudge toward the small kitchen and breakfast nook. The table in the cabin isn’t huge, and any table is an upgrade from my lack of one, I suppose. The wood grain looks real, not fake like everything I own, and I trail my hand over the surface of it as I look around this part of the cabin.

Along the back wall of the living room is a closed door, which I naturally open without hesitation. If I was kidnapped,then clearly I have permission to go anywhere I want. In my head, that makes sense. Though I notice there are suspiciously no knives that I can find in the kitchen, even though I’m sure all kitchens have them.

I really don’t want to have to use a fork to stab someone to get free.

When I push the door open, I see a generic, boring bedroom with a large bed, dresser, and two small, matching tables at the head of the bed. It’s very cabin-chic, though I don’t know what else I was expecting.

I am in alog cabinafter all.

A door closing somewhere in the cabin pulls my attention from hunting through the ensuite bathroom drawers which yielded all of nothing. I listen to the murmur of voices while I stand in place, wondering if I should try to hide or learn to contort my body to somehow get through the small bathroom window.

“Noa?” Val’s curious, bemused voice from the main room of the cabin does absolutely nothing to soothe my fears. In fact, it makes them worse. Quietly, I close the drawers and chew on my lower lip while trying, and failing, to come up with a plan.

The bedroom light turns on just as I step out of the bathroom, and my wide eyes find Kieran’s as he leans against the doorframe and looks me over with an appraising look I’m starting to hate. “She’s right here,” he says in a voice no louder than it needs to be. Again my nails sink into my palms and I find it hard to stand still while I stare at him.

“What do you want?” I finally manage to ask as I flex my fingers. My nails bite into my skin with every move, and somehow the movement draws Kieran’s attention.

“That looks like it doesn’t feel great,” he remarks, head tilting to the side. Without answering my question he strides across the wooden floor, his hand reaching out to mine. When I flinchaway, my back hits the edge of the doorway behind me and causes me to wince in discomfort.

“Don’t touch me,” I breathe, eyes wide.

Kieran just grins and, as if to make a point, wraps his long fingers around my wrist. “If I wanted to hurt you unnecessarily, darling, I would’ve killed you by now.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Trying and failing to rip my hand free, I step back until our arms are stretched between us. His muscles have to flex to keep me from dragging him backward in my attempt to create distance or just generally be a problem.

His eyebrow raises, and with a quick jerk he pulls me forward, causing me to stumble into him with a huff of surprise as my other hand comes up to catch myself against his chest. “Let go!” Moving to pull back, I’m too slow, and he suddenly picks me up to throw me over his shoulder with practiced ease.

This leaves me with a view of his ass and the floor as he turns to walk out of the bedroom. A noise of protest escapes my throat, and I bend my knees with every intention of kicking him.

“I wouldn’t,” Kieran tells me flatly. “Do what you want, I guess, but seeing as I haven’t tied you up, cuffed you, or otherwise impeded your movement yet, maybe don’t push it.”

His words cause me to reconsider. I slowly relax, though I keep my grip on the back of his shirt as if I can somehow steady myself or maintain some kind of control of the situation.

Seconds later, I find myself unceremoniously dumped back onto the rug in front of the fireplace, my knees pressed to the edge of the pillow before I pull back to look up at them.

“What do you want?” My heart pounds in my throat, making it hard for me to hear anything other than the blood rushing in my ears. “I thought…Why would you kidnap me?” Damn, I really never should’ve let them in this morning. That had been my first, and maybe last mistake.

Valentin sighs suddenly and drops to the rug behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist even as I fight to free myself. Not that he seems to care or really notice. Instead, he presses his chin to my shoulder before turning to kiss my cheek affectionately.

Unlike earlier today—when I would’ve basked in the attention and begged for more—I jerk away from him and sneer.

“Don’t be like that, princess,” he purrs sweetly. “Come on, you don’t need to be mad. We really don’t want to hurt you, okay? And before you ask, the only reason you were on the floor is that you were doing a lot of moving in your sleep and we didn’t want you to fall off the couch.” No matter how much I fight him, his arms stay locked around me.

“And the sooner you stop fighting us, the sooner you get an explanation.” Kieran goes to the sofa to sit down, sighing as he stretches his legs out in front of him.

“But if I maintain the motivation now, I won’t have to pep myself up for itafteryou explain why you kidnapped me,” I snap nervously, my fear making me frustrated and defensive. God, I wish I could just get my arms free, even one, so I could aim my elbow at Val’s nose. If I’m dying here in this cabin, then I’m taking Val’s good looks to the grave with me.

“Gorgeous, feral princess,” Val snarls in my ear. “But, unfortunately, if you don’t stop, I’ll have to get a little mean, Noa.”

“As opposed to drugging me, lying to me, drugging meagain, and kidnapping me? That wasn’t mean?” I struggle to get my foot under me, hoping I can use the momentum of standing up to knock him over and get in touch with my inner cheetah to chew out one of their throats.

Or, as a backup, I am still willing to stab a man with a fork.

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