Page 53 of Crown of Thorns
After a moment, not speaking, not breathing, because I have to let the pain lash through me before I can move on, I just allow myself to feel the heartachethat comes with knowing they were taken from me on purpose. When I can breathe again, I open my eyes and look into his and say, “You did that on purpose.”
“Aye.”
“You hurt me on purpose.”
“Aye.”
“You said you’d never do that,” I shriek, trying to pull away from him but he holds me captive, bound by his strong arms.
“I had to, hen, you know that,” he says. “I need you to see that what I am about to ask of you is no’ done lightly.”
“And what is it that you want from me now?” I snap, so close to losing it.
“I want to insert a tracker into you so I can always find you and be sure that you’re safe,” he says.
All the air leave my lungs. If he can track me, I can never leave. I’ll be stuck here forever, until one of his enemies—or worse, his family—finally kills me.
“If you can track me,” I start gently, “Then you’ll always be able to find me.”
“That’s the idea, hen.”
“Then I’ll never be free,” I whisper. “You’ll always find me.”
“Even withou’ the tracker, I will always find you,” he vows.
“But why?”
“Because you’re mine,” he says darkly.
Tears well up in my eyes and I don’t care if he seesthem or not. I feel broken, he’s won. But then again, he was always going to. He had already claimed checkmate, my defeat was inevitable, it’s time to surrender.
“When will you do it?” I ask.
“Now.”
“Now?”
“Aye, I have the device here now,” he says gently, at least he doesn’t rub my nose in his victory. If he was an ungracious victor, I’d probably lose it.
“Fine. Just do it. Get it over with, Rhys.”
“This isn’t an excuse to pull away from me,” he says. “This is just for safety, your safety.”
“You’ve already won,” I remind him. “Just do it.”
“You have a way of telling me that I’ve won, hen, and then making me feel like I’ve lost everything. Why is that?”
“You tell me?” I shrug.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters as he climbs off the bed and retrieves what looks like a men’s shaving kit. “Roll over onto your belly.”
I do as he asks, fine with not having him watch my every expression. He hasn’t earned my vulnerability even if he’s won me.
He climbs back onto the bed and straddles my thighs, anchoring me to the mattress. The time for running is over, at least for now.
“It’s going to hurt a bit,” he says. My muscles tighten, ready to spring if he gives me the opportunity to bolt. Instead, Rhys settles more of his weight to mythighs so I can’t even wiggle. “I am sorry about that. Truly. Now I need you to hold still so I don’t accidentally hurt you more.”
“Wait—” I start to panic, but he stops me.
