19. Ava
Chapter 19
Ava
I stretch my arms out, seeking the familiar comfort of Seb’s warmth. My fingers find only cool sheets and a vacant space.
Confusion jolts me fully awake, and I snap my eyes open, heart racing as I stare out of the window.
This isn’t my boat.
This room ... It's enormous.
Gilded ... Beautiful ...
And completely foreign.
Panic rises in my throat as I take in my surroundings.
Plush white velvet curtains frame floor-to-ceiling French windows. A crystal chandelier hangs overhead, casting soft light across the intricately patterned wallpaper. The bed I’m lying on is massive, covered in silken sheets that stroke against my skin as I sit up.
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Fear stirs in my gut.
My heart aches for Seb. I long to feel his arms around me, to hear his calm voice telling me everything will be okay. But he’s not here, and the realization sends another wave of fear crashing over me.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to quell the trembling that’s taken hold of my body.
But it’s my breath that is so ragged it feels like I’m suffocating that scares me.
“Relax and breathe,” a deep voice says.
Then I see him— Max —sitting in a high-backed chair in the corner, his piercing blue gaze fixed on me. His near black hair, his sharp features.
My breath catches in my throat.
“I need to tend your bite.” His voice is low and controlled.
Bite? What bite?
As if in response to his words, a dull ache blooms on my neck.
My hand flies up to touch the spot, and I flinch at the tender flesh beneath my fingers.
“You bit me!”
Shock courses through me as the implications sink in. A mating bite. But how? When?
My mind races, trying to piece together fragmented memories. The club. The heat. It’s all a blur.
I stare at Max, my eyes wide with disbelief and growing horror.
What has he done?
What have I done?
“I never presented my neck to you. I would never do that?” My anger is growing, then mysteriously dampens.
“You asked me to bite you.”
“I was in my fucking heat. I would have agreed to anything!”
“Shh,” he says, his voice soothing as something strange happens to my body.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending calmness through the bond.”
“What are you talking about?”
I press my hand over the ache in my neck as it pulses.
When Max rises from his chair and approaches the bed, my eyes widen, like a deer caught in headlights, frozen between fight or flight, but with nowhere to run.
He places a box on the table beside me. “Start taking pregnancy tests from tomorrow. Once confirmed, I’ll have my doctor check you over.”
Pregnancy test?
He kneels on the bed and straddles me. “Now tilt your chin up so I can tend your bite.”
I’m not finished.
“You want to get me pregnant?” I say. My tone is much quieter than before.
“I will get you pregnant. Hopefully, you already are.”
“You claimed me!” Pregnant! Anger fuels a burning inferno in my gut, and I hoist my knee so hard, cracking him in his balls.
The moment my knee connects with his groin, Max’s eyes enlarge in not only shock but also pain. I know because I feel it through his fucking bond.
A strangled grunt escapes his lips as he instinctively curls inward.
I smile when he rolls off me, his face contorted in agony. His hands cup his injured area as he struggles to breathe through the intense waves of discomfort.
“F-fuck,” he gasps out, his voice a strained groan.
My omega instincts to care for him kick in, but with all my might, I clench my hands, feeling my fingernails digging into my palms, and fight the urge to tend to him.
He’s claimed me forever, and he’s going to regret it.
For a moment, he’s completely vulnerable, all his alpha bravado stripped away by the primal pain. His face is pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to regain control of himself.
After a few seconds, he opens his eyes, fixing me with a glare that’s a mix of pain, anger, and maybe a little begrudged respect.
“You little—” he wheezes, unable to finish the sentence.
He tries to sit up, but the movement causes another spike of pain. He groans, falling back onto the bed.
I smile and shuffle away from him.
“Don’t move,” he growls through gritted teeth, though it’s clear he’s in no condition to stop me if I try to leave.
As I watch him struggle, I realize I have a brief window of opportunity. The mighty alpha is momentarily incapacitated, giving me a chance I hadn’t expected.
“Where am I?”
He smiles. “Dupont Island. And this time you won’t escape, so don’t bother trying.”
I feel my entire body sag. I escaped before, but that was with the help of a scuba jet.
I’ll find a way.
He grabs my wrist and drags me back onto the bed. “I’ll have eyes on you permanently. You won’t escape. Now I advise you to let me tend to your bite, else it’ll get infected.” His voice is calmer than I expected—considering. “Or I’ll turn you on your stomach and smack that ass of yours.”
I sigh, pressing my head on the pillow. The soft sheets rustle beneath me as I tilt my head high.
My heart races when I feel the bed shift as Max moves closer.
His touch, when it comes, is remarkably gentle. And considering I just ruined his future chances of having a child, it’s a little surprising.
His fingers brush my hair aside, exposing the bite mark on my neck. Despite my best efforts to resist, a shiver runs down my spine at the contact.
“This might sting a little,” he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly comforting.
His blue eyes stare into mine, and I hate the way my body is singing for him.
He lowers his face to my neck. I feel something cool and damp against the bite. The initial touch makes me wince, but then the pain fades, replaced by a soothing sensation.
My body mutineers against my thoughts when it trembles beneath him.
But although Max’s movements are careful, almost tender as he cleans the wound, he doesn’t react to me.
Hopefully, I broke him.
Against my will, I feel my body relaxing under his ministrations. There’s something about the way he’s caring for me that makes me feel cherished. Protected. A warmth spreads through me, starting from the bite and radiating downward.
Don’t do this.
I tell myself firmly.
Don’t fall for him.
He kidnapped you.
He’s trying to get you pregnant against your will.
He’s not to be trusted.
But my traitorous body doesn’t seem to care about these logical arguments. Each gentle touch sends a wave of contentment through me.
I bite my lip to stifle a soft moan of desire.
“Almost done,” Max says, his breath warm against my skin.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to summon up feelings of hatred and anger.
“Where’s Seb?” I picture Seb’s face. I know he would not have let me go willingly.
“In Majorca—hopefully. You can go back to him in nine months.”
“What the fuck?”
I think of the freedom Max is trying to take from me, the choices he’s making without my consent, and now I know there’s an invisible but palpable bond between us. I send acrimony through it.
“Stay calm.”
Fucking calm.
Yet I can’t deny the part of me that’s responding to his care. The omega in me that wants to lean into his touch, to bare my neck further and submit completely.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Max says finally, his hand lingering on my shoulder. “All cleaned and dressed.”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself before I turn to face him. I need to stay strong, to remember who I am and what I want. No matter how good his touch feels, no matter how my body responds to him, I can’t let myself forget the reality of this situation.
“So you kidnapped me,” I state, my voice hard with accusation.
“It appears I did,” Max replies coolly. “Now, have a shower and meet me in the dining room for breakfast.”
His casual dismissal of my accusation ignites a fire in my belly. Fury surges through me.
How dare he act so nonchalant about stealing me away from my life?
“I’m not eating with you,” I spit out, my hands clench into fists at my sides. “I’m not doing anything with you. You can’t just take me and expect me to play happy families!”
Max’s eyes narrow, a dangerous glint appearing in them. “You’re my omega until I no longer need you. That’s the reality of your situation, whether you like it or not.”
The sound I release is bitter, bordering on hysterical. “When I’ve had your baby, you mean.”
“Exactly,” he confirms, his tone matter-of-fact. “Now do as you’re told, omega, and your time here will be much more pleasant. We’ll get along just fine if you cooperate.”
I could tell him I know exactly who he is, that I’ve seen the emails, that I know about his connection to Walker. But I hold my tongue. I’ll save it for when I really need it.
Max leaves me alone in the room, the door clicking shut behind him, and the silence that follows is stifling, broken only by the sound of my own ragged breathing.
And then a child crying.
The sound is faint but unmistakable. My omega instincts kick in immediately, a powerful urge to comfort and protect washing over me.
I move to the window, straining to see where the sound might be coming from.
But there’s nothing. Just the lush grounds of Dupont Island and the sea that stretches out before me. No sign of a child anywhere.
I shake my head, wondering if I’m imagining things.
That the stress of the situation I find myself in, knowing it’s getting to me. But even as I try to rationalize it away, I can’t wave away the feeling it was real.
Shaking my head, I turn away from the window, my mind racing. I need to forget about phantom sounds and figure out a way out of here.
I am not Max’s to claim. And somehow, I will escape.
Again.
The next morning, my stomach churns with a mixture of hunger and revulsion as I stare at the tray of continental breakfast on the table; a Danish pastry, a bagel, a selection of fresh fruits, and a bowl of yogurt and a small box of cereal. A glass of fresh orange juice is on the side.
I hate Max Montgomery.
At least now he knows I’m refusing to eat meals with him. The man is deluded if he thinks I’m going to pretend we’re what, exactly?
What does he think we are?
A couple?
He told you—you’re nothing more than a surrogate.
Rage bubbles up inside me as I grab the glass-bottom lamp from the bedside table and fling it across the room. It shatters against the wall.
I watch the splinters of glass shimmering on the floor and plunge my head into the pillow.
“I hate him,” I spit out, tasting the poison on my tongue.
I don’t know if he’ll receive the message, but the hate I’m feeling must be seeping through our bond.
I try to send extra loathing through it.
He will regret the day he claimed me.
He fucking claimed me.
I scream into my pillow, letting out all the frustration and anger that’s been building up. But when I hear the door creak open, I hiss, “Go away.”
“Daddy,” a sweet voice says, catching me off guard.
“It’s okay, baby. She’s upset,” a familiar voice responds.
I twist on the bed to see a little cherub in Silas’ big, muscular arms. Her head resting on his shoulder.
My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her. And him, too. To be truthful, I hate he’s so fucking gorgeous.
My gaze goes back to the little girl. She’s angelic; golden curls frame a face that Botticelli could have painted.
Her big blue eyes are wide with curiosity. She’s clutching a stuffed rabbit, her tiny fingers wrapped tightly around its ear.
My omega instincts surge, and I feel a strange but overwhelming urge to hold her, to comfort her, to protect her. But I force myself to remain still, gripping the bed sheets tightly to stop myself from reaching out for her.
Tentatively, Silas steps into the room and looks at the broken lamp, now in pieces. My eyes are locked on the girl, drinking in every detail of her perfect little face.
“This is Lily,” Silas says, his voice tight with an emotion I can’t quite place. “My daughter.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
Lily looks at me with such innocence. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to go to her.
Silas’ face hardens as he watches my lack of response.
“You could at least say hello,” he says, his tone sharp. “After everything. You owe me that much.”
His words hit me like a physical blow.
I owe him? For what?
The confusion must show on my face because Lily’s expression changes, her little brow furrowing with concern.
“Mommy?” she says softly, looking from Silas to me and back again.
“Where is your mommy?” I ask. Hoping to soothe the child’s concern and pacify my abductor simultaneously.
But Silas glares at me. I don’t understand his problem; he brought the child into my room.
Does he want me to talk to her or not?
“This is my friend Bunny.” She lifts the soft toy to show me its face. But I’m too busy looking at hers.
“I like Bunny,” I say, giving her a big smile.
“I like you,” she whispers. Her sad eyes turn bright and lock on mine.
My heart pounds in my chest with a sudden longing to cuddle her and make her happy again. To do anything to take away the look of heartache on her face.
I smile. “I like you too.”
I know I can’t.
I’m frozen, caught between my instincts and my anger. Between the urge to hold this child and the thoughts that the child is being used.
Silas and Max are in cahoots, and Silas brought Lily here to bring out my omega instincts more than they are.
But as Lily’s lower lip trembles, I feel something inside me break.
What kind of person am I to hurt an innocent child?
But before I can do anything to make it right, Silas turns away, cradling Lily close.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs to her.
As they leave, I’m left alone with the wreckage of the lamp, the untouched breakfast, and a gnawing sense of guilt that not even my anger at Max and Silas can fully overshadow.