Page 9 of The Freedom in Captivity

Oh my god. So it’s true.After all this time, Flynn Rhodes is here. In front of me.

He’s not Flynn though,my brain cuts in. He can’t be because Flynn wouldn’t sit idly by while I was tied to a chair with my life threatened.

The same second my lips manage to form a word—a single word—his name, he steps forward and out of the shadows.

He’s different. His face seems sharper, his body larger and more filled out, dressed in dark cargo pants and a leather jacket. His brown hair longer, shaggier, strands falling around his face like he needs a haircut. His eyes might be what I remember, but the disdain in them is new. He stares at me like I’m dirt beneath his shoe, his lips pulled in a sneer. There’s a scar above his lips, which wasn’t there in high school. Tattoos creep up from beneath his shirt’s collar, up the side of his neck, and over the back of his hands.

He bends, lowering to my height as he studies my face. He’s only a foot away in distance but we’ve never felt further apart.

“Flynn,” I breathe, my heart quickly catching up to its new reality. To the fact that after all this time, he’shere. That the single year I was allowed to be a regular teenager wasn’t some far-fetched dream.

“Rozelyn.”

The same purr. The same dangerous tone that always caused my pussy to clench in desire. The same soft growl used right before he slammed inside me.

“H-how?”

“Life’s funny like that, isn’t it?” He straightens, walking behind me.

I turn my head, trying to follow him, but the tight hold of the rope means I can only twist so far. “You’re with the Corsettis.”

He doesn’t respond. I hear nothing, and he’s just out of my periphery. Unable to have any warning before he fists strands of my hair and roughly yanks. Pain flits over my scalp and my neck muscles don’t have the chance to fight as my head is jerked backwards. He’s leaning over me, his teeth bared, something sharp and cold brushing the skin of my neck.

A knife.

“I am a Corsetti, yes. And you’re a De Falco. Certainly not the name you were using in high school. Either way, that makes you my enemy.”

I can see why he believes that, given everything my father’s done. Given whatIdid to their princess, but it was my attempt to remain safe. I’m not on my father’s side, or Flynn’s. Only mine.

“I’m not your enemy,” I tell him, being careful not to swallow too hard and scrape my throat against the blade. “Believe me, Flynn.”

The knife and Flynn disappear in an instant, my hair released so I’m able to sit straight again. Only for his menacing form to be in front of me, leaning close, the blade returned to the base of my throat.

Instead of resting it there, a sharp sting immediately follows, and the difference in temperature tells me I’m bleeding. He brushes his thumb over the sting, making it dissipate for the briefest second.

But then he pulls back to show me the dot of red on his thumb, his gaze never releasing mine as he says, “You want me to believe you,mon soleil.”

Ooh.That hurts. That nickname. He started referring to me with that, and it became everything to me.My sunits translation.Hissun. He claimed I was the spot of light in the darkness of his life.

“I have no reason to. You’ve told me so many lies, so what makes this different? This,” he shifts his finger, the light catching on the shine of my blood, “is to prove who we were all those years ago means fuckingnothing.”

He brings his thumb to his mouth and swipes it on his tongue, licking my blood from his skin. Flames ignite in his depths, excited by the taste.

Why was that so hot? Why is my traitorous mind going there?

“How did you come to work for the Corsettis?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What does then?”

“Your life,” he replies, his tone lighter than the words deserve. “My past is not important to your present or future. Who I am—who we once were, was a long time ago. So before you think to use it against me…”

His hands dart up, coming around the front of my neck, and he squeezes so tightly, he strikes a gasp from me. His fingers crush my neck, cutting off my air supply. My body jerks in response, my head fighting to be free of his unyielding hold. My arms, while still tied behind me, struggle to be free.

“…remember,” he continues, “that isn’t who we are now. You may have once been a distraction, but you were one year of my life. The Corsettis have been many. Iamthem. They own my loyalty because they deserve it, and fuckin’ pussy I once spent months buried inside does not change a damn thing.Youdon’t matter anymore.” He leans closer, baring his teeth. “So don’t think batting your eyelashes will change how this’ll go down.”

He’s a predator now, and I’m his prey. The boy I knew manifested into something darker and more dangerous. Despite every instinct telling me to stay away, I find myself wanting to know this new version.

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