Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
My cock twitches in my pants.
Don’t. He’ll know.
I push the feeling aside and grab her by the feet, pulling her out. She shrieks, in vain, because we both know whatever she says or does won’t work on me.
I throw her over my shoulder with ease, and she kicks and punches me yet again as if she’s given up the meek-lamb shtick and now wants to prove she’s not going to come quietly.
“Let me go!” she yells as I march toward the side entrance and a maid opens the door.
I ignore her scratching my back, which feels like tiny cat claws, and bring her into the hallway.
“Where are we?” she yells. “And why does my voice echo?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I wait for the maid to come back.
“He’s back?” My owner’s voice booms through the room next to the stairs. “Make him come in.”
The maid comes back and nods at me, so I proceed.
My steps are heavy with shame and worry about what’s to come, but I know I must face my mistakes. One of them is thrown across my shoulder as we speak.
“Put me down!” the girl yells.
And I do. Not because she asks, but because I’m right in front of my owner, and he doesn’t look pleased.
“What is this?” he asks.
“A prisoner,” I say, my fingers digging into her shoulders so she won’t try to run off or harm anyone.
His eyes are stern as he looks up at me from his desk. “I thought I told you to kill them all.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why haven’t you?” he asks, his voice riddled with bitterness.
I clear my throat. “My target escaped.”
“Escaped?” My owner’s eyes start to twitch. “You …”
That’s the one.
The voice that can break even a man like me.
Because I know what happens when that voice appears.
Suddenly, his eyes settle on the girl. “Guards. Take her to the waiting room and keep watch.” Then he focuses his angered gaze back on me. “I will deal with this beast first.”
Aurora
A rough hand on my shoulder pushes me forward, shoving at my back when I don’t move quickly enough. I struggle to keep up, not being able to see a thing as we walk. Suddenly, he throws me down, and I shriek.
I’m on a hardwood floor.
My heart is beating a million times an hour.
I lift my head to listen to the sounds around me.
“Stay there,” a man says.
Footsteps move in the opposite direction, and then a door slams shut.
I breathe in and out a couple of times to calm myself, but it’s impossible when I can’t see and can’t properly use my hands. I’m trapped in someone’s house, and God only knows what they plan on doing with me.
I have to get out.
I crawl up from the floor on my knees by propping my hands underneath me, ignoring the man’s words. I push myself up and walk around the room, bumping into all sorts of things—tables, chairs, cabinets—until I hit a wall.
With my hands held in front of me, I feel my way across to the door and rummage the handle, but of course it’s locked.
“Dammit,” I mutter to myself.
I continue feeling my way along the wall, but there doesn’t seem to be any other door, only a window. But maybe if I can get it to open, I can jump outside.
I bend over and fish around for a handle until I find one and try to push it open, but it’s tough when your wrists are tied together, and you have no idea what you’re doing.
A sudden roar from the other room makes me stop and turn to listen.
WHACK!
I jolt, my ears barely able to take the sound.
Because it definitely did not sound like a hand … but a whip.
WHACK!
Another muffled roar fills the rooms, and I struggle to breathe from the sound alone.
It’s awful. And every strike is followed by a cry in pain.
And all of it is happening in the same room I just got pushed out from.
WHACK!
Each strike makes tears form in my eyes because the sheer pain in the howl that follows is too much to take.
So much so that I cover one of my ears with my tied wrists and push my other ear up against the wall just so I don’t have to listen to the sounds.
After a while, it ends, and my cheeks are stained with tears, rubbing against the bag around my head. I don’t know what went down there, but it was definitely violent. And even though I’m used to the violence in this world, listening to someone being punished with sickening pain is never easy.
I suck in a breath and push away from the wall, lowering my hands too.
I’ve wasted too much time. I need to find a way out before it’s too late.
My hands immediately dive back to the window, searching for a way to open it.