Chapter 7, Aria
The sun was high overhead, blindingly bright, the Choosing grounds were a chaotic sprawl of noise and movement.
Aria walked beside, Thorne, her arm held securely in his grip.
She kept her head down, staring at the ground, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
They were approaching a row of vehicles that looked like they had been carved from black glass and steel.
They were sleek, modern, and utterly devoid of warmth.
Aria’s stomach churned with a cold knot of dread.
If she got into one of those cars, the farm would just be a memory.
The trees, the sky, the wind, it would all be gone.
She would be sealed inside a metal box, driven miles away to a place where she didn’t know anyone, where she was nothing but a possession.
The thought paralyzed her, making her legs feel heavy and uncooperative.
Thorne stopped walking, his attention shifting. A large wolf, a creature of midnight fur and yellow eyes, trotted up to them. It was one of his enforcers, a beast of a wolf.
“Alpha,” the wolf shifted into a human form, a scarred man who looked terrified to be speaking to Thorne.
“The transport is ready. The other females are loaded. The Ironclaw pack is complaining about the delay, but they will wait.”
Thorne nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd, his mind already calculating logistics and rivalries.
He didn’t look at Aria, didn’t check to see if she was following.
He was distracted by the needs of his pack.
Aria looked at the path leading into the woods that bordered the Choosing grounds. It was overgrown with brambles and thorns, but it led away from the cars, away from the buildings, away from Thorne. She didn’t think. She didn’t plan. She just acted.
She yanked her arm away from Thorne’s grip and bolted.
She ran with every ounce of strength she possessed, her boots crunching on the gravel, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
The wind whipped through her hair, stinging her face, but she didn’t stop.
She darted toward the trees, her eyes fixed on the shadows and the green canopy that offered a shield.
Behind her, she could hear Thorne’s voice calling out, but she didn’t look back. She didn’t dare.
She pushed through the undergrowth, branches snapping against her skin, tearing at her clothes.
Her lungs burned, her legs felt like lead, but she kept moving.
The noise of the Choosing faded into the distance, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a bird.
She was getting away. She was actually getting away.
Hope surged through her, warm and electric.
She could disappear into the woods. She could hide until Thorne got bored and went back to the pack.
She could live in the wild, free. She smiled, a wild, desperate smile, and pushed herself to run faster, her heart lifing with the promise of freedom.
She rounded a large oak tree, her eyes scanning for a place to hide, a cave or a hollow log.
She slowed down, her chest heaving, her eyes darting around the clearing.
“Got you.” The voice was low, smooth, and utterly terrifying. Aria froze. She turned slowly, her heart stopping cold. Thorne was standing there, only a few feet away. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look surprised. He just looked.... amused.
She turned to run again, but he was too fast.
He lunged, his arm wrapping around her waist and lifting her off the ground.
He tackled her, slamming her back against the rough bark of the oak tree.
The wind knocked out of her, she gasped, her hands clawing at his chest, trying to push him away.
He pinned her easily, his body pressing hers against the tree, his legs trapping hers.
He looked down at her, his grey eyes glinting with a dark, dangerous light.
“You really think you can run from me?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
“I... let me go!” she choked out, trying to kick him.
He didn’t answer. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it behind her back, tying it with a rough piece of leather cord he pulled from his pocket.
Then he did the same with the other wrist, binding her hands together.
She was helpless, her arms pulled up behind her, her body exposed.
Thorne released her and sat down on the root of the tree. He patted his knee.
“Over here.” Aria shook her head frantically.
“No! Please!” He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her down. She struggled, her feet kicking at his legs, but he was too strong. He forced her over his knee, the rough bark digging into her cheek, but she was more focused on the humiliation of her position.
Thorne reached down and grabbed the hem of her skirt, yanking it up.
She gasped, trying to cover herself with her bound hands but she couldn’t move.
She was completely exposed to him, her bottom in the air.
He didn’t hesitate. He brough his hand down hard on her cheek.
Whack. Aria cried out, the sound echoing in the quiet woods.
The sting was immediate and searing, a bright flash of pain that made her eyes water.
She jerked, trying to pull away, but he held her firm.
Whack. Whack. He spanked her agian and again, each strike harder than the last.
She sobbed, her body trembling, the pain radiating through her bottom and up her spine.
It was a punishment, a lesson, a reminder of who owned her.
She kicked her legs, her heels striking his shin, but he didn’t flinch.
He just kept going, his hand a blur of motion, covering her skin with stinging red welts.
Finally, he stopped. He let her go, and she collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball, sobbing and clutching her stinging bottom.
Thorne stood up, looking down at her with a satisfied smirk.
He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a long, thin rope.
He took the end of the rope and tied it securely to the leather collar around her neck.
“Come,” he commanded. He tugged on the rope, pulling her up to her feet. She stumbled, her hands still bound behind her back, the rope digging into her skin. He walked toward the waiting cars. and she had to scramble to follow, the rope pulling tight, forcing her to keep pace with him.
When they reached the sleek black car, he opened the back door and shoved her insidel. She fell onto the soft leather seat, the rope still attached to her collar. Thorne climbed in after her, closing the door with a final definitive slam.
Aria sat there, staring out the window, her eyes blurry with tears. She was back in the trap. She was bound, humiliated, and completely at his mercy. And as the car pulled away from the Choosing grounds, taking her further and further everything she had ever known, and she knew there was no escape.