Chapter 18 - Nikki #3
A stench of musk and damp filled the air the second she stepped inside.
She wrinkled her nose despite herself. The interior was shabby, almost pathetic, in Nikki’s mind.
Cobwebs clung to molding corners, and cracks stretched along the ceiling like skeletal fingers.
Hardwood floors were littered with debris and detritus.
Dead leaves and dirt that had been pushed into the cabin were spread everywhere.
It wasn’t exactly the type of hideout she would expect. Lucas must have been scrounging even more than she thought. With this place, it was impressive that he had managed to convince anyone to follow him. It was bedraggled and rundown and looked like it was on its last legs.
But the figure lounging on the sofa shoved all those thoughts out of her mind.
Lucas was watching her with a covetous gleam that made her skin crawl.
He saw her watching him, and that greedy smirk turned into a triumphant smile filled with malicious glee.
A long scar that hadn’t been there the last time she had seen him dragged across his cheek and nose, a lingering reminder of his fight with Jasper.
“There you are,” he said, and pushed himself to his feet. He stalked forward, eyes lingering on her as if he’d just won a prize.
She instinctively stepped back. A strong hand grasped her shoulder and pinned her in place.
Lucas stopped right in front of her. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
His hand stretched out and caressed her neck, fingers trailing down along her collarbone. Shivers of repulsion shot through her. His thumb traced her jaw, eyes roaming up and down her body.
“Take your hand off me before I break it,” she said, her voice surprisingly even despite her rage.
He barked out a delighted laugh. “You’ve grown some backbone, I see,” he said. His hand slipped around her neck, and he yanked her forward until they were inches apart. He stroked her hair, pushing it back behind her ear. “That’s okay. I’ll have fun breaking you.”
Fear threatened to crawl through her once more.
With her hands behind her back, surrounded by shifters who would grab hold of her the second she tried to run away, it would be easy to slip into those old, familiar feelings of helplessness.
Memories of her time under Sier’s thumb, his command, nearly dragged her back down.
She forced them away and glowered at Lucas.
“Let me go now, and you might get out of this alive,” she said, trying to keep the small tremor threatening to creep into her voice out.
He laughed. “Adorable. You know, I liked you before when you were meek. This bit of spark, though… It’s fascinating. I wonder how long it will last, though.”
She took a step back. His eyes narrowed, and he jerked her forward again, closer this time.
“Go to hell,” she said.
He clicked his tongue. “Is that really how you want to speak to your master?”
“You’re nothing of the sort,” she spat. “You’re small and pathetic, just like this cabin.”
That amusement he’d shown earlier evaporated entirely. His face contorted in a sneer. His grip on the back of her neck tightened.
“You’re mine now,” he snarled. “Don’t forget that.”
“I’m not yours. I never have been, and I never will be,” she said. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m married. You have no idea what sort of shit storm is coming your way.”
It was a feeble, last-ditch attempt to get him to retreat. She knew that, but she had to try. But she wasn’t surprised when it didn’t work, and that grin resurfaced. It was a sinister, nauseating sight that made her insides churn.
“True, you are married, but not for long,” he said. “The second I barge into the Silverrose pack and take over, the first thing I’m doing is finding your mate and tearing him to shreds before he has a chance to do anything.”
Her eyes widened. She would have recoiled on instinct, but his hand was still locking her in place.
Jasper. He was going to kill Jasper.
Horror rippled through her, and it took all her willpower not to flinch away from that leer. Part of that unease came from that unnerving sincerity in his words. He meant every one of them. She tried to keep her face a mask, to hide how horrified his words had made her.
“Good luck with that,” she said. “He’s not that easy to take down. That scar along your face should remind you of that.”
His eyes burned for the briefest of moments, the deep line across his face contorting, looking more gruesome.
“Careful with that tone,” he said. “Don’t forget where you are. I own you now.”
“No, you don’t. And just know I am going to fight you every step of the way,” she said.
He grinned. “I know.”
He released her, then glanced up at his goons, his eyes cold and burning with triumph at the same time. “Throw her in the back room,” he said. “Give her a little bit of time to grow accustomed to the new status quo.”
One of the men—she thought it might be Vincent—untied her hands.
She barely had time to rub feeling back into them before two more of Lucas’s men grabbed her by either shoulder and hauled her to a door made of rough, unfinished wood.
They opened the door to a pitch-black room that couldn’t have been larger than a shoebox.
Before she could do anything, they threw her inside.
She stumbled forward, arms outstretched to catch herself in case she fell.
They slammed into the far wall, stopping her from running face-first into it. Her palms scraped against rough wood.
She spun around just in time to see the door slam shut, and she was thrown into darkness. The sound of a lock sliding into place with ominous finality echoed through the small, empty room.
Just like that, she was alone.