Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
"I don’t care what anyone else thinks. All I care about is you. Your safety, your well being, your happiness. Which is why we are here, right here, in this situation.”
A dark cloud of anguish fills the room. Or maybe that’s just me.
“Tell me you understand, Little Prey. Tell me that you see how important this is. If your father gets a hold of you, who knows what he will do? We both know an international human trafficker has developed an interest in you."
His last statement feels like a slap. I can’t do this. Not when he says things like that. I try to force my way around him, but there’s no escaping him. He even crouches down, balancing on the balls of his feet in front of me.
"Are you saying that to scare me?"
He scoops some of my hair behind my ear and leans in, inhaling. "No, I'm not trying to scare you. I’m trying to make you understand. To believe it. I'm the same man you met months ago, the same one who carried you out of that hellhole. Doesn't that earn me a little leeway here? No matter what else you think about me or what happened, you know deep down if my intention was to hurt you in any way it already would’ve happened."
I consider his words carefully, thinking about them, shifting them inside my head. What he says makes sense, and I know it’s true, but when I close my eyes all I see is the cold blank look on his face, eyes that were devoid of life and humanity as he stared at his grandfather right before he pulled the trigger.
He’s given me that same look a time or two, but he’s never hurt me…but what if it’s only a matter of time? All over again I’m confused, caught between love and hate, anger and sadness. Why does he make me doubt myself all the time? My every choice, my every decision. If I'm not worrying about what he's thinking, I'm worrying about what he's going to do next. A constant loop of darkness.
A darkness he's brought into my life.
No. That's not fair, as I remember Yanov's hands on my body. No—Sebastian didn't bring the darkness; I was already dealing with it for years before him. He showed me there's a different kind of darkness, one inside me, that answers to his own.
"Just please, tell me what you want," I whisper.
Pushing off the floor, he stands, and when he extends a hand down to me I stare at it for far longer than necessary, until I finally place my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet.
The room spins for a second, and then it rights itself as I try to look anywhere but at his broad chest, at the way his dress shirt is expertly tailored to his biceps. It's hard not to stare at him.
He leans down, his mouth so close to mine it would only take a little movement to reach him. Kiss him.
"It’s not what I want, but what we must do. We need to sell this. We are in love. We're married—young, sure, but married all the same. We must maintain a united front so that if someone comes for you, they know I will be in the way."
"You want me to pretend to be in love with you?"
He flicks his tongue against the side of my mouth gently. "Will you really have to pretend?"
I look away, afraid he will see right through me like he always does.
"If you want to call it pretending, sure. Pretend. But there’s no pretending on my part. I won’t lie about the way I feel about you,” he whispers.
He's closer now. I will not kiss him. Not now. Not when he's beating his chest and threatening to drag me back to the cave by my hair.
"Fine, but if I pretend to be the little wife, will you let me out of this damn room?"
His lips twitch but he doesn't smile. "Of course. You're my wife…you’re free to go wherever you want.” I take one retreating step when he clasps his hand around my bicep. “But make no mistake, there will be no more running, Ely. You agreed to be my wife, and you signed your name on the line.”
“I…was drugged.” I flounder for words. “Our marriage is as worthless as the paper it’s printed on. It might be a legal binding agreement, but that doesn’t mean I have to love you. It doesn’t mean any of this is real.”
I swear I see a flash of sadness in his eyes, but as soon as I blink it’s gone. “Maybe to you, but not me. I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen and that you’re confused and hurt, and I don’t want to make this more difficult for you. All I want is to make good on my promise to you.”