Page 14 of Brutal King

Did he drug me? Damn me for finding him so attractive. I blame my hormones. I also blame my family for not letting me get this out of my system in a safer environment. Maybe if I’d been allowed a boyfriend, I would have been less inclined to lust over the Devil.

Try as I might to recall anything beyond the sight of Gideon’s icy blues, I can’t. That, coupled with this mean headache and horrid dry mouth confirms I was indeed drugged.

I sit up and run my palms over my body, my clothes, feeling for anything that might be torn. Other than being knocked out, it seems I’m unharmed.

Next, I examine the room I’m in. It’s fit for royalty, something that could be a part of some castle, with wallscovered in silk, a warm fire crackling in the stone fireplace and the canopied bed in the center. To one side is an alcove with a cushioned bench and a small stained-glass window above it, depicting what looks like rolling hills. On another wall are large beveled glass French doors.

I stand, being careful of every step I take over the wide plank wood floors, hoping there isn’t a squeaky one like at my room in Briar House. In the suite, I find a bathroom. It’s not huge, but what it lacks in size it makes up for with posh elegance. Its cream walls contrast beautifully against the pale pink marble counters and floors. Fuzzy floor mats are strewn about, in front of the shower and under a pink leather bench. A tiny crystal chandelier hangs delicately, its light reflecting warmly off the gold accents that dot the space.

It’s feminine. The whole thing is. Even though it’s not my style, I can understand why this room would be chosen for me. It’s made for a princess and that’s all I’m perceived to be.

Looking toward the other side of the room, I see the door that likely leads to the hallway and is possibly guarded. Across from it, the door that leads outside and is also possibly guarded. Both equally terrifying.

Choosing to check the French doors first, I silently move to them, making sure to put all of my weight on my toes as I go. At minimum, I need to understand my geographical position. My heart pounds in my chest as I take hold of the levers and push them open, my feet ready to sprint at the sound of an alarm. There’s nothing, only the wind and sunshine and the calling of a few birds in the distance.

I step onto the balcony and peer over the thick stone rail. This time, I do gasp. I was right about being in a castle. The room I’m in is at least three stories up and part of a massive house.

However, that’s not what has me suddenly doing everything I was told not to do in this situation. It’s that this grand place islocated in what looks to be a vast forest. There are trees as far as the eye can see, in every direction save for the one where a mountain juts high into the clouds.

There are no towns. No houses. No shopping centers. No one to scream to for help even though that’s exactly what almost erupts from my mouth.

Suddenly, all that space overwhelms me, crushing me with its immenseness. In a panic, I slap my hand over my lips and scramble back inside. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks, but I ignore them.

I have to get out of this place!

Grasping onto every ounce of courage I can muster, I open the bedroom door and peek out. I’m at the end of a long hallway with many doors and dimly lit by wall candelabras. I tip toe in the only direction I can, staying close to the wall, ready to go into one of the many doors should I hear anything.

The hall bends to the left and opens into a grand gallery. I approach the wooden balustrade to find that I’m indeed on the third floor.

An enormous chandelier is suspended from a domed ceiling, and hangs several feet down, over the black and white marble flooring of the first floor. The broad staircase is just as impressive, rising to a landing on the second floor that’s crowned by a stained-glass window. From there, the stairs split into two, one that leads to where I am, and the other to the opposite side of the open foyer and a hall like the one I just came from, wide and with doors on either side.

I descend to the second-floor landing, glancing around the many halls and doors that branch from here. Although the curious side of me would love nothing more than to explore each one of those spaces, the part of me that cares about self-preservation urges me to continue on my way to the front door.

My sneakers make contact with the marble on the main level, and I cringe at the audible thud. I remain still, listening for anyone in the vicinity before taking another step, and another, inching my way toward the exit ahead.

To the left is a parlor. A comfortable looking couch sits in front of a tall fireplace, it’s inviting heat emanating all the way to me. I lean forward to get a better glimpse of the entire room, searching for my captor. When I don’t see him, I sprint.

And slam full speed into a hard wall.

Only, it’s not a wall at all, but a man.

“Flying off so soon, Little Bird?” Strong arms wrap around me and keep me tight to his chest. I attempt to push off, but they’re like steel, savagely unyielding.

“Let me go!” I glare up at him, but he’s completely unfazed by my hatred.

Giving me a smile that would make the Devil proud, he tightens his hold before suddenly releasing me. I fall hard on my ass and scramble back when he reaches for me.

Plastering myself against the wall, I stand. He’s in front of me, as handsome as I remember, and yet, the visual confirmation is still hard to believe.

“Don’t come near me!” I scream when he takes a step toward me.

“Calm down, Sofia.” He lifts his hands in a placating manner, as if that should be enough reason for me to relax.

“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” I demand.

“This” —he motions to the space around us— “is my home, Kingsbrook Manor. And I brought you here because I wanted to.”

“Because… You wanted to?” I blink at him in confusion.

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