Page 117 of Wait For It

Killian stood frozen as they handcuffed him, his eyes dull and distant. There was no greater terror than watching the very thing you loved being ripped from your arms and knowing you were powerless to stop it.

Everything hurt.

I struggled against a sudden wave of dizziness as they forced him onto the elevator, unable to right myself before crumpling against her with a defeated whimper.

“Remember, my dear,” she whispered in my ear while rocking my body with hers. “The smallest voices can be the loudest. You have to pick up your shield and fight back.”

“I can’t,” I uttered brokenly.

I knew how it was going to end. I’d always known. I just got caught up in how it all began, almost letting myself believe things could be different for me.

But there were no happily-ever-afters here.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ariana

“Never laugh at live dragons…”

-J.R.R. Tolkien,The Hobbit

I wokeat the sound of a key turning in the lock of my bedroom door, dragged from one nightmare and into another. One I was all too familiar with.

As soon as the gates had closed, I’d been pulled from Tristan’s SUV by two armed guards. They’d marched me upstairs to my room. Just like a prisoner. I didn’t know how much time had passed since then, but it couldn’t have been long as the sky was still dark.

I shouldn’t have slept at all, knowing Killian was in jail, and Tsega had been fired.

All because of me.

I’d been convinced Tristan had his little birds watching in the shadows, but never imagined Tiffani would be the one who’d give me up.

My eyes, hot and swollen from my tears, burned as a sliver of light from the hallway cut across the bedroom. I didn’t need to see the figure entering to know who it was.

I felt it, the same way I had as a child. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled while my muscles tensed in warning. There was a primal urge to flee, but nowhere to run. I held myself still, straining to hear him over the sound of my heartbeat thrashing in my ears. My bedroom door closed with a softclick.

“Ariana,” Brad called softly. The floorboard near the foot of my bed creaked in protest as he bent to switch off my nightlight.

“Now throw this useless servant into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

The silence was punctuated by the jangling of his belt buckle as he unfastened it and the groaning of the mattress coils as the bed dipped beneath his weight. “I know you’re awake, your breathing always gives you away. Sit up.”

I jerked away when his hand connected with my calf and pressed my back to the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest. “Don’t touch me,” I forced out. “I’ll scream.”

He snorted. “And here I thought you’d really taken to the idea of being an obedient and submissive wife—”

“You’re not my husband yet,” I coldly reminded him, clenching my jaw to stop my chin from quivering.

“That’s right,” he agreed, shifting closer. “But it seems my fiancée has suddenly gotten cold feet and needs to be reminded of who owns her.”

I shook my head, stammering, “P-p-people can’t own p-p-people.”

“Awww… your s-s-s-stutter’s back,” Brad mocked. “That’s good. After your display back atTrue North, I was beginning to think that quiet little girl was gone.” His hand moved to my cheek, and I raised my chin before pulling away.

“I won’t be quiet,” I hissed in defiance. “Not anymore—”

He caught my jaw in his hand, forcing my face back to his. “You’ll do as you’re told, sweetheart. And if you don’t—well, there are other ways of keeping you in line. Just ask your mama. Oh, that’s right, you can’t.”

Mama.

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