CHAPTER 2 #2
As the trailer jolts to a stop, my body is thrown against the side of the trailer. A sharp pain radiates from my head and down to my spine. Despite the pain, my eyes are glued to the cracks of the trailer, watching the faces of the people in the village as they look in with wide eyes.
They are afraid of me. And I wish I could understand why.
Suddenly, the door flings open and a man emerges, his heavy boots crunching against rocks as he makes his way over to me. The sun is beginning to set, casting an eerie shadow over his face as he leans down to examine me.
As I gaze into his deep, green eyes, sunlight streams through the holes of the wood and highlights the slight button on his defined chin.
My eyes drift down to the veins along his neck, which prominently bulge as he surveys me.
His shoulder-length, wavy, chocolate brown hair falls across his face, framing his sharp features and drawing attention to the scar on his bottom lip.
He has braids perfectly weaved throughout his hair, but they’re just a tad messy from the voyage.
I can feel the warmth radiating from his hands as they rest beside my shoulders, and I can't help but notice the subtle scent of burnt char lingering around him.
A small smirk plays on his lips as our gazes lock, and I can see a hint of soft sky-blue in his eyes when the sun perfectly hits against him.
“Now… what am I going to do with you?” His eyes darken. The curls that frame his face sway in the breeze.
“I…” I start. He holds his finger up and tilts his head, pausing me before I can say another word.
“No. No, you don’t get to speak just yet.”
I furrow my eyebrows, wrinkling my forehead as a deep crease forms between them. I clench my jaw and press my lips tightly together, feeling the sting of teeth on flesh as I try to keep quiet.
Where the hell am I, and who the hell does he think he is?
His hands slide down my body as he grips me tightly, moving me around, and then lifts me over his shoulders as if I am light as a feather. My stomach presses tightly on the back of his neck while he holds my feet and shoulder like I am an animal ready to be eaten.
“Easy,” I growl at him, my body swinging around as he walks. I try to wriggle free, but his grip only tightens.
“Do I need to hit you again, woman?” His head snaps towards me, our eyes locking, but I roll mine away.
“Do it, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
He halts. His tongue glides along his bottom lip before letting out a deep, sarcastic chuckle. One of his thick brows raises as he turns his head my way. “You are a little spark of fire now, aren’t you?”
“I don’t allow douchebags to speak to me this way,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
He grunts before shrugging a shoulder, bouncing me up to adjust my body before taking another step. “You are a long way from home now, are you not? You shouldn’t have wandered off.”
My stomach digs into his broad shoulders as he steadily walks to wherever the hell he is taking me.
“You have no idea,” I mumble, my eyes rolling away as I stare out at the hazy sky. The dry, rust-colored dirt gets kicked up from the ground and surrounds us.
“You won’t last long here,” he clears his throat, “trust me on that. You won’t survive the night if Florian leaves you to die.”
My eyes widen, and I bite my tongue. Maybe I should shut up.
“You are lucky I am tied up,” I grumble under my breath as I side-eye him, seeing if he heard me. But he continues to look straight ahead.
I gaze at him for a few moments longer. His luscious locks cascade down to his shoulders, swaying with each powerful stride he takes.
The muscles in his jaw clench and unclench as he swallows, a sign of the tension brewing within him.
My gaze is drawn to his neck, where I catch glimpses of intricate markings trailing down towards his back, very similar to claw marks.
His hair obscures the full pattern from my view, leaving me curious.
My brows lift. “What are…”
Before I can speak another word, his grip tightens.
“Not another word,” he growls. “Not until he meets you.”
I exhale a deep, annoyed breath, rolling my eyes away from him and staring out to the open space past the village we were just in. No one is around us, which makes the insides of my stomach crawl.
Where the hell is he taking me?
Each step echoes gloomily, and my heart races faster than when I was alone in the hills. His warm breath hits my chest when he looks at me, and I shudder at the thought of what he might do next.
I am in deep trouble. There is no way to find Alice.
My father won’t find me here.
But the thought of Tilly being here as well gives me hope.
We finally turn a corner, and I catch sight of a tall, slender structure that is surrounded by rocks that stretch to the sky.
There is one main oval-shaped door with deep red markings, several tattered windows scattered to the top.
My eyes stay locked on the towering structure, and the closer we get, the more massive it appears.
The top is barely visible through the smoky sky.
He opens the oval-shaped door, stepping into a dark corridor with multiple closed doors on each side and a wooden spiral staircase that goes up to the top. My heart races with fear at what could hide behind each of the doors, but also what could be at the very top.
He stops in front of one wooden door and fishes out a golden key from his pocket.
The sound of rust creaking as he scrapes the key into the hole, turning it slowly, sends chills throughout my body, creating goosebumps all over once again.
He opens the door slowly, almost menacingly, and throws me onto an old, stained cot that creaks under me.
I bounce around, trying to control my body with my arms and ankles tied together.
My once neat ponytail has come undone, yet again, and strands of hair cascade over my face, blocking my vision.
I frantically shake my head, trying to clear the hair from my eyes.
But it stubbornly stays in place. However, through the tangled strands, I can see him standing against the cobblestone wall, with his massive arms crossed, offering no assistance.
“Thanks for your help,” I sarcastically grumble with my jaw clenched.
He grunts, looking anywhere but at me. Which doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I’d rather him never look my way again; his face annoys me. Especially when his dimple deepens against his cheek and his lips do this curling up thing whenever I talk.
But as I follow where his eyes land, my breathing hitches as I hold in the raging anger burning within me. I feel at any minute I might explode. The room is dimly lit, with a small lantern along the wall, a single cot pushed against one wall, and chains hanging from hooks on the other.
Are the chains for me?
A small window high above us lets in warm beams of light, illuminating the claw marks with dried blood etched into the walls.
“Where the hell am I?” My nose wrinkles from the smell. I notice the outline of him making his way over to me. The sharp echoes of his boots against stone reverberate through the empty chamber, causing my body to flinch with each slow step he takes.
One. Two. Three.
Three steps before he is right in front of me.
I watch as he squats down, his strong arms wrapping around my limp body and pulling me upright.
The roughness of his touch makes my skin crawl.
His finger rubs gently along my forehead and down my cheek, pushing away my hair.
His shoulders seem to strain against the fabric of his loose, cream shirt with each movement he makes.
The top few buttons are undone, revealing a glimpse of a chiseled chest and defined abs.
But what I notice are the scars that seem freshly healed against his skin.
I glance down to his boots, scuffed from years of wear, that stretch up to his knees.
Men in Seattle don’t dress this way.
I shiver under his touch, my body responding to the uncertainty of what he might do. He has full control. He knows I am not from here; I can tell by the way he stares at me. He knew the moment he saw me.
His hand trails down my neck and across the top of my sports bra, causing me to hold in my breath. He leans in closer, our noses almost touching as his emerald eyes are mixed with a light blue from the sun's rays, staying fixed on mine.
His hands leisurely make their way down to my waist as he gradually unties my sweater, slowly removing it from around my body and throwing it to the ground beside me. His breath tickles my lips, and I brace myself. If I speak, I may go unconscious again.
I must be smart with my next move.
He leans in closer, our noses now touching, and my eyes flicker from his eyes to the scar on his lip as the adrenaline in my body bounces around. I bite the inside of my cheeks.
Do not move. Do not breathe.
If my hands were untied, I’d push this man away from my face and rush out the door.
His warm breath beats against my face, his burnt char scent lingering in the small space between us.
His hands are firmly planted on either side of me, caging me in, his muscular arms flexing as he leans closer.
I'm pressed against the hard cot, unable to move away from his intense gaze. I am unable to escape.
I am trapped. Completely screwed.
He holds his gaze on mine while our breathing is steady, in sync with each other as I force the fear away.
“I said, shut the hell up.” He pushes my head back, making me fall backwards on the cot, and I just let out a screeching yell, shaking my body like a child throwing a tantrum.
“What the hell have I done to you?!” I wiggle my body, using my elbows to sit me upright again.
His hand is against the golden doorknob. “Prince Florian will be with you soon.”
His eyes meet mine once more, and then he walks out, leaving me alone in this cold, empty chamber.
“Prince?” I scream at him.
“What damn Prince?!”