Page 31 of A Bond in Blood

His hands released me, and his legs unwrapped from around mine.

Freedom.

I could have run then. I could have sprinted out of the room. But I was too focused on my goal. Too ready to enact revenge.

Slowly, I crawled through the water, running my hands across his bare legs to guide me toward him. The feeling of his muscled legs beneath my fingers brought an annoying ache low in my belly, but I focused on my need for another kind of satisfaction.

The rough hairs of his beard brushed against my cheek when I reached his face and I gasped, not realizing I’d gotten so close.

“Sit,” he said.

I shook at the command in his voice, the ache in my belly begged me to allow some physical reprieve. To let the hate turn to passion. To let pleasure replace the burn of my flesh crying out from the air now whipping past my healing wounds.

A release from the madness I was living.

But I threw it aside, regaining my control.

His hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me with ease.

“I said sit,” he repeated gruffly, placing me on his lap.

The end of my gown slipped between my legs, creating the only barrier between my flesh and his. With a steady breath, I leaned forward, running my hands down his torso.

“What do you want?” he asked.

I tried to reply with any kind of smart response, but the way his fingers circled my lower back nearly brought me to insanity. His palm flattened against me, pressing my chest to his and a pulse grew between my legs. Thumping against the fabric of my dress.

A pulse of arousal that wasn’t my own.

“What do you want?” he asked again.

I closed my eyes before placing my hands on his shoulders. Trying to keep control of myself, I leaned into him further, brushing my lips against his ear.

“I want—” I paused, positioning myself above his hardening arousal. “I want you to fucking die.”

An animal took over as the words left my mouth and my teeth clamped down on his ear, pulling as hard as I could. My nails moved as well, clawing at his skin. I bore down, with both my teeth and hands, internally screaming at the breaking of his flesh under my nails and the taste of his blood in my mouth.

I jumped up and ran. As fast as my injured body could take me.

His bellows of rage filled the room, and I slipped on the slick floor, heading to where I thought the doors were. Praying to the Gods he wouldn’t catch me.

Chapter 8

Gods, he was going to kill me. I could feel it in my bones as I ran through the dark, somehow not colliding with any walls in the room.

“Brenna!” his voice rang behind me, sending a chill through my body.

I slipped on the stone of his bedroom, stopping for just a moment, trying to determine which door to take. I remembered the hidden door he’d come down, and hoped I had disoriented him enough that he wouldn’t consider something so simple.

I moved through the dark room, trying to find the wall beside the bed and the tapestry the door was hidden behind. My hand wrapped around a circular handle and my pulse picked up. Glancing back in the direction I came, I couldn’t help but wonder what was taking him so long. I pulled the door open, relishing in the candle-lit hallway that greeted me.

“Brenna!” his voice sang behind me. “I suggest you start running.”

My wet nightgown stuck to my body, but I picked up my feet and obeyed him willingly. I threw my body down the hallway, skirting around the corner with no idea where I was going.

I only knew he was approaching by the smell of smoke from candles extinguishing behind me and his overpowering cold at my heels.

My tears fell while I continued to propel down the hallway, cursing the constant twists and turns. Most importantly, cursing the lack of any doors to make my escape.

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