Page 177 of A Bond in Blood

He stared back at me, not releasing his hold on my wrist.

“Because, Brenna,” his gaze went dark, instantly terrifying me, “I am the monster you believe me to be.”

“No,” I protested. “I don’t think I believe that.”

His shoulders rose with his breaths and the same chilling grin he’d given me countless times before he lifted his lips.

“You don’tthink. You did not say youknow.”

His grip went tight, forcing a cry from my lips and he dragged me through the water. I stumbled when our feet hit the sand, holding back my protests while he seemed determined to change my mind.

He slammed the door to hallway twelve open, continuing to pull me behind him, holding my wrist with that painful grip.

We crossed the clock room, and my footsteps grew heavy when I saw him heading toward hallway nine.

“What are you doing?” I cried. I tugged at his hold, sniffling back my tears from his sudden outburst.

“You are so uncertain about so many things, Brenna.” His voice rose and he continued to pull me toward the hallway. “YouthinkI am not a monster. Youthinkyou could be happy in my home. Youthinkyou enjoy my touches.” He turned around,grinning wide. “And Olen’s, like the whore youthinkyou may be.”

My shock from his shift in mood quickly turned to rage.

“Unhand me!” I demanded.

“I will show you I am the monster your heart tells you I am.”

My cries of protests echoed down the hall while he continued his dragging. His grip on my wrist was so tight I knew I would have a mark from it. A bruise that would linger for weeks to come.

My eyes frantically whipped around, staring at the red-flame candles until the cold of the hallway grew unbearable and his footsteps finally stopped.

“Look at it, Brenna,” he ordered as he released my wrist.

I sniffled, holding back my tears and stepped forward. My hands shook while I raised them, tracing the carving of the woman on the door. The face similar to his ink, but different.

My chin hit the door when his body slammed into mine from behind. His hand went to my throat.

“You are a foolish woman,” he breathed into my ear.

“I am.” My voice shook.

His hands hit above my head and his hips ground into my backside.

“You do not do what you’re told,” he whispered.

My face pressed against the door and my body trembled under his. I couldn’t separate reality from this insane fantasy Ulrich was determined to live. The one where he was welcoming and warm in one moment, but deranged and violent in the next.

“So quiet,” he muttered.

I let out a breath. “I am not a caged pet.”

His laugh rumbled against my back while his hips pressed me harder into the door. His hands removed their stance from above my head, then they were on my hips, flipping me to face him once more.

“The little bird, alone with the beast.”

My hand went to his shirt, pulling at him.

“Please, Ulrich, stop.”

His eyes were glazed over, distant. An expression of his mind lost in some memory I had no knowledge of.

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