Page 26 of Colton
I grip her shoulder, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Mary, for fucks sake! Forget about her! I told you to fucking trust me!”
I don’t have time for this.
Every second we waste here puts us closer to him catching up. But she’s standing there, frozen, and I can feel my patience unraveling. She doesn’t understand—she can’t understand—that I’m doing this for her. She needs to just fucking listen. Why is she so damn determined to fight me when I’m trying to protect her?
Why can’t she see that I’m her only way out of this?
She shakes her head, defiance blazing in those fierce blue eyes. “No! I’m going back...”
Her words become a blur, the sound of her voice feeding the rage boiling inside me. I can’t—why doesn’t she understand?
My hand moves before I can stop it. The sharp crack of my palm against her cheek echoes in the quiet forest, and the shock on her face freezes me in place. I didn’t mean to—but she wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t fucking stop...
She gasps but twists onto her front with an agility I’ve never seen a girl have before.
Never.
Who the fuck is she?
The sound of the slap echoed in the air, louder than I’d intended. Her gasp tore at my insides, a flash of guilt searing through me, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—back down. I grab her and hold her to my chest, my arms tightening around her.
“Mary…” I whisper, my hand still burning from the contact. But the words die in my throat. What can I say? I’m just like him. Just like my father.
“You’re a monster; you left her!”
“She’s not my concern,” I reply, panting. “You are. Please, let me save you.”
Chapter 12
Luella
Ican barely breathe as Colton drags me through the dense woods, the branches of the trees reaching out like gnarled fingers. My heart is frantic in my chest, a rhythm matched by the adrenaline pulsing through my veins. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sends a jolt of fear coursing through me. But it’s not just fear—it’s confusion, desperation, it’s the twisted sense of dependence that’s wrapped around my heart.
Colton’s grip on my arm is punishing, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me deeper into the forest. I stumble over roots and fallen branches, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s like a man possessed, his eyes wild with a mix of fear and determination. I can see the tension etched in his features, the tight line of his jaw, the furrow of his brow. He’s hyper-focused, almost feral, and it’s both terrifying and strangely exhilarating.
“Colton, please,” I gasp, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. “You’re hurting me.”
He barely acknowledges my plea, tightens his grip, and urges me on with a fierce, “Then keep up.”
I hate the way he’s controlling me; the way he’s making decisions for both of us without a second thought. I’m stillfurious that he slapped me, but I get that he was scared, even if he won’t admit it. Or maybe because we were in danger, and I was slowing us down by trying tosavesomeone.
What the fuck happened to Emilia?
A moan leaves my lips, but I hate that Colton was probably right—if it wasn’t her, it would’ve been me. He couldn’t save us both. But what I hate even more is the part of me that clings to his strength. It’s a sick, twisted thing, this sudden dependency, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing pieces of myself with every step we take.
We finally reach a rundown cabin, its weathered boards and broken windows a stark contrast to the luxury of Xavier’s mansion. Colton pushes me inside, his body tense as he scans the surrounding area for any sign of danger. I can tell he’s trying to protect me, but his methods are suffocating. He’s like a caged animal, ready to lash out at anyone or anything that threatens his territory—and I’m part of that territory.
“What is this place?” Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself, the chill in the cabin seeping into my bones. The bare walls seem to shake with every gust of wind that slips through the cracks. The room is as bare as the walls, lacking the warmth that comes from a human touch. A single window frames the snow falling outside.
It’s snowing now?! I can’t help but think of Emilia, if she’s cold...
“Do you think she’s okay?” From my spot by the window, I watch Colton as he kneels before the hearth, the flames he’s created casting a warm glow on his rugged profile. He’s intent on his task, his hands sure and strong as he tosses the logs on.
“Who?”
I frown. “Emilia.”
The room fills with the scent of pine and the comforting crackle of burning wood. It’s a domestic scene, but there’s nothing domesticated about Colton.
