Page 75 of Horror and Chill
I’m stiff at first, muscles screaming to fight. To claw. To push away. But he holds without tightening, without forcing. Just waiting. My body eases inch by inch until my head sinks into the pillow.
“You going to chain me up again?” I ask finally, my voice cutting the silence.
“Not tonight.” He rises, smooth, deliberate, like he’s been waiting for me to ask. “You won’t move.”
I bark a sharp laugh. “You’re sure of that?”
“I’m sure of you.”
“I should scream,” I whisper into the dark.
“Then scream,” he murmurs against my temple. “I’ll still hold you.”
My eyelids drag heavy, traitorous. I swore I wouldn’t sleep. I swore I'dn’t let them have this.
But the dark pulls me under, anyway.
And the last thing I know is worse than fear.
I don’t hate the way it feels.
29
Corwin
The cabin doorshuts behind me with a soft thud. My boots drag across the floor, carrying me upstairs slowly. I push the bedroom door open just enough to slip in.
There they are.
Evander’s in the bed with her. Arms wrapped around her like he owns her. Her head tucked against his chest. Sleeping. Like it’s normal. Like she chose it.
I drop the bag on the dresser. Gas masks inside knock together, glass eyes flashing in the moonlight through the window. I brought them for later. For the shoot. For us.
But I can’t look away from her.
Her legs tangled in the blanket. Lips parted, breath steady. Sleeping while held.
Something twists hard in my chest. It should be me in that bed. My arms around her. My face the one she turns into. Evander always slides in first, quiet, calm, like he’s owed it. She lets him.
Not forever.
My fists curl at my sides. I picture myself climbing in on her other side. My hand gripping her thigh. My mouth against her throat. Her waking up and seeing me instead of him. I wouldn’t let go. I wouldn’t give her an inch to run.
All women leave. They prove it every damn time. Except Mom. She stayed. Agatha won’t get the chance to do what the rest did. She’s ours.
I lean against the wall, eyes fixed on her. She shifts in her sleep, lashes flickering like she knows I’m watching. Evander’s arm tightens, pulling her closer.
My teeth grind. I want to wake her. I want her to look at me instead of him.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I let her sleep. Let him play guard. But one day soon, it’ll be me in that bed. And when it’s my turn, I won’t be letting go.
Grabbing the bag with the masks, I force myself to back out of the room, slow, careful, so the floorboards don’t creak. I can taste blood from biting my cheek so hard.
In my room, the door clicks shut, I toss the masks in the closet to surprise her with later, and collapse onto the mattress. My hand fists in the sheets first, then my body betrays me. Heat pools low, sharp, insistent, and I can’t stop it. I squeeze my eyes shut, and she’s there the way she always is—glaring, smirking, mouth parted like she’d curse me even as she whimpered for more.
I slide my hand under the band of my pants and wrap it around my cock. It’s already hard, already throbbing for the kind of need only she can feed. The mouthy little woman curled against my brother in the next room.
