Page 17 of Claimed In Darkness

7

NAIRA

Finally, he sent me away after one of his servants called him. I can’t stand another minute with Zephiran. I hope he stays away for hours more, best if its for days.

But the relief is short. Even if he’s not around, his presence is branded in me.

I still feel the floor against my knees.

The cold bite of the marble, his hands, the way his voice curled around me like a rope, tightening, tightening, tightening?—

I loathe him.

I hate that I let him put me there. Hate that I’m still here, in this cursed, gilded prison.

I rip the silk dress from my body, tossing it onto the floor as soon as I’m back in his chambers. The thing is drenched in him, in his scent, in the shame that burns like acid on my skin.

The door creaks open behind me.

I hear the way he moves—the silent arrogance, the way the air shifts around him like he’s something ancient and untouchable.

I grind my teeth, breathing through the rage threatening to suffocate me.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to undress,” Zephiran murmurs.

I turn, slow, deliberate, giving him my best fuck you glare.

“Then add it to my list of crimes, my lord.”

His lips curl in amusement. “Oh, I do enjoy your spirit.”

He moves across the room like he owns it. Fuck, how can I forget he owns this place?

He owns everything in this damn house.

He thinks he owns me.

I clench my hands into fists as he circles me, dragging a finger along the tip of my bare shoulder, down my arm, his touch a slow brand.

“Do you know what’s missing, little fox?”

I bite my lips, almost drawing blood. I’m holding back a snarl.

I know what he means, and I loathe it to my very being.

“Every slave has a mark,” he continues, voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. “And since you’ll be playing the role of mine, I think it’s time you received one.”

My heart stutters.

I lunge.

A stupid, reckless mistake—but I don’t care.

I go for his throat, nails clawing, teeth bared.

He catches me midair.

Fucking asshole.

---