M y muscles grow weak from pounding on the bars trying to escape.
I have no idea why I’m in here, and that should be what I’m trying to figure out.
Instead, I puzzle over how I know him.
There was something about that look in his eyes when he was staring at me.
He makes me feel uncomfortable but safe at the same time.
He screams danger, I know this.
But I can’t help the little piece inside me that is curious as to his identity.
My hands drop from the bars.
Sitting back, I pull his robe over my shoulders and hold it against my chest.
Even with its coverage, the wind sends shivers down my spine.
My teeth begin to chatter, and I swear they'll crack under the pressure.
The moonlight barely gives any light, which terrifies me all the more because I'm afraid of the dark.
Sitting in this cage, it’s no different.
Every noise sends chills of panic through my veins, my heart races, and my eyes dart around trying to figure out where the noises are coming from.
I know it’s useless, but I must do something to keep myself awake.
Slowly, my body begins to fall until my head rests against the ground, my eyelids drooping as sleep takes over.
I don’t know how long I've slept before I sense someone watching me.
My eyes snap open and are immediately drawn to the hazel-eyed man.
I sit up slowly.
Pulling my legs to my chest, I wrap my arms around my knees.
I wait for him to say something, but he just watches me.
I bite my lip, unsure if I should speak first, when his eyes drop down to my mouth.
It’s just for a moment, but it’s long enough that I want to question him.
I’m not sure how long we stare at each other before he reaches into his pocket, producing a key.
My eyes follow his hand as he unlocks the cage, swinging the door open.
He gestures with his hand extended, motioning me towards him.
“It’s time, Little Shadow.”
I shake my head before I know what I’m doing.
I don’t know what it’s time for, but the glint in his eyes and the fact I was locked in a cage tells me I should do anything but take his hand.
“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
My head continues to shake as if that’s enough to convince him.
I know it’s not.
“I need you to trust me.”
He almost sounds sincere.
That little voice in my head screams at me not to take his hand.
But the look in his eyes tells me another story.
I’m just not sure what to believe.
Swallowing back the fear trickling in the back of my throat, my hand trembles as I reach forward.
I slip it into his, easing myself out of the cage.
His skin is cold to the touch, rough with just the right amount of softness.
Helping me to my feet, I look up at the shadow man, his face hidden in the depths of his hood.
“Will you ever tell me your name?”
I whisper.
He tilts his head to the side, considering my words.
His jaw ticks while his eyes flicker behind me.
I don’t dare to look away, afraid that if I don’t hold my ground I’ll never find out his name.
“Tell me one fact that no one knows about you and maybe,”
he finally says.
My brows pull together into a frown.
Being put on the spot wrecks my nerves and I can’t think of anything.
“I hate liver,”
I blurt out.
“Most do, so that doesn’t surprise me.
Tell me something else, a secret, your darkest one.”
I swallow, my eyes darting away from him.
I can’t tell him.
I can’t tell anyone.
If anyone knew the thoughts in my head, I would be committed.
“I don’t have one,”
I tell him instead.
Maybe knowing his name isn’t all that important.
He roughly grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Ah ah ah, I see it on the tip of your tongue.
Spit it out.”
I try to shake my head, but the grip he has on my face stops me.
“Be a good girl and tell me.”
My stomach tightens, pressure forcing its way between my legs as I feel something warm and wet build in my center.
“Sometimes I think about killing my parents,”
I whisper.
His eyes widen for a moment before he cools his expression. “Why?”
“That’s another secret, and you only asked for one.
What's your name?”
His lips pull up in a smirk, nodding his head.
“You got me there,”
he says.
His hand drops from my face.
A small piece of me misses his touch already.
“Atticus.”
His hushed words barely reach my ears.
It takes me a second to realize what he’s said, but when I do, I can’t help but smile.
“I like it.”
“You’d be the first.”
I open my mouth to say something when I hear a low humming behind me.
Just as I turn my head, Atticus grabs a hold of my wrist.
“Whoa–what?”
I jump backwards.
My eyes snap down, confused about what he’s doing.
It’s then I see thick rope wrapping around my wrist.
I attempt to jerk my hands back, but his firm grip stops me.
My brain doesn't work fast enough before he’s tying a knot, my wrists bound and held together.
The humming grows louder, fear seeping into my veins.
“Atticus?” I mumble.
“I told you it was time,”
is the only thing he says just as multiple fires ignite behind us.
My head snaps around.
Six small fires stand in a circle while a large wooden cross sits in the middle.
My eyes widen as it suddenly dawns on me that something is seriously wrong.
“Please, please don’t,”
I find myself saying.
Atticus doesn’t say anything, not that I expected him to.
I don’t get a chance to move before his arm wraps around my middle, lifting me off the ground.
A scream escapes from my lips, my throat burning from the force I put behind it.
He walks me towards the cross, my legs kicking out, fighting against his hold.
I might not stand a chance, but I have to at least try.
Or that’s what I tell myself.
I can’t just not do anything.
But it’s all useless.
He’s stronger than me, much stronger.
The humming wraps around us.
I try to look about to see who's there, but I’m too focused on the cross Atticus stops in front of.
Setting me down, he twists me, so I’m turned, hooking my arms above my head.
“Stop!”
I scream, imploring.
Kicking my feet out, I attempt to hit him, but I’m stopped.
Someone, or two someones, grab my ankles pulling my legs back together.
I glance down, frozen in fear as one holds my legs against the wood and the other ties them together.
“Stop! Please stop,”
I desperately cry out as I fight against their hold, my terrified heart nearly ripping free from my chest, tears falling down my cheeks.
Atticus stands, slowly backing away.
I can’t fathom him leaving, even if he was the one to put me here.
I feel like I can’t catch my breath.
He turns around, facing the dark shadows that stand in a semicircle watching him.
“Welcome, my disciples, it’s a joyful time to see you all again.”
They all mumble their responses.
I can’t hear what they say between the pressure building in my head.
My teeth hurt from how hard I clench my jaw.
Why had I trusted him? I should have put up a bigger fight.
There are a million things I should have done.
Why did I think Dad meant well when sending me on this trip? I’m so stupid.
“Tonight we were brought a special gift,”
Atticus' voice echoes around the wooded area.
Fresh tears form in my eyes, and my vision blurs, making the dark figures mix together as they hoot and holler excitedly.
“The innocent brought to us must be checked for purity for our king,”
he announces.
The crowd quietens, and an eerie feeling sinks deep into my bones.
Atticus turns around, facing me.
I swallow the lump in my throat, feeling my airways closing.
Unable to look away as Atticus steps forward and positions himself in front of me, he reaches down to the bottom of my dress.
I hold my breath as he pulls it up, my knees becoming exposed first and then my thighs.
I shake my head, pleading with him not to do this.
He stops just before my sex, pushing my panties to the side, baring me for everyone to see.
His fingers brush over my lips causing my breath to hitch.
My eyes lock onto his as he pries my folds open, one of his thick fingers sinking into me.
I can’t breathe, confused why my body is reacting to him in ways it’s never done before. Instead of fear, I’m excited. Somethings wrong with me.
I hold my breath as he prods around, his thick finger making me feel full in a way I’ve never felt before.
Our eyes lock together, his jaw ticking as he blinks slowly.
I’m not sure what he’s doing, but in a blink of an eye his finger stops moving as if he found what he was looking for.
“Mine.”