Page 120 of Captive Bride

“I can imagine you’re quite surprised,” he says. “Waking up here and all. I’ll tell you a secret, I’m probably even more surprised than you. I mean, why a man like the Governor would want to marry some Montague’s whore is totally beyond me. If you want my opinion, I think he could do much better.”

His hand slides from my thigh to my ass, groping hard against me.

“Not that you don’t have your perks,” he continues as he squeezes me. “But a whore is still a whore. I think we’d all be better off if he just slit your throat.”

I bite my tongue to keep from agreeing. I don’t want to agree with anything that slithers from this monster’s mouth. My hands hang limply beside his back, fingers trailing motionlessly.

I focus onto one, willing it to move, to twitch.

Anything.

Still, the drug holds me captive. I struggle to keep my eyes open.

“Nothing to say?” Lawrence asks.

I keep my silence.

“Very well,” he answers. “Personally, I think it’s about time you shut up anyway.”

He opens a door ahead of him, stepping through in a hurry. I feel him lowering me, laying me flat on what appears to be an altar.

It’s fitting, I think, I certainly feel like a sacrifice.

Tristan’s face flashes through my mind and my heart aches.

What I wouldn’t give to see him smiling at me, just one more time.

“Well, I better go finish setting up,” Lawrence says. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Isobel.”

I feel great relief as the door closes behind him, leaving me alone for the first time since waking. I try to sit, to squirm, anything. My body betrays me at each turn.

Tears sting my eyes again, and I allow them to fall, now that there’s no one to see.

This is hopeless. Still, I have to try.

I focus my energy onto my head, willing it to rise. It feels like it weighs a ton, my neck completely incapable of lifting it. I don’t stop.

All of my energy pours into the act, groans of frustration escaping my mouth. Tears fall freely from my eyes, and my groans turn to screams between my lips—but still, I press on.

I can’t give up hope. I just can’t.

The ghost of Tristan’s face swims before my eyes, urging me ever onward.

I have to find a way out of here.

I have to see him again.

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