8. Isabel
8
ISABEL
T here has to be a way out of this.
Three men, all stronger than me, with God -knows-what kind of intentions. I can’t overpower them, and they clearly have a thirst for blood. My blood.
Maybe I can outsmart them.
My brain is working overtime, ideas colliding and shattering before I can even grasp them. The panic clawing at my throat doesn’t help.
I thrash in their grip, wild and desperate, but it’s pointless. Their hands are made of steel.
One of them chuckles darkly. “ There’s no point in fighting, Isabel .” I can’t tell who it is— Maxwell ? Theodore ? Julian ? The buzzing in my head drowns out almost everything.
Each attempt to free myself only seems to amuse them, as if I’m nothing more than a mild inconvenience. “ You’re wasting your energy.”
That only makes me fight harder, my nails clawing at their wrists. My chest heaves with exertion, but no matter how much I struggle, I’m no match for them.
“ Keep fighting,” a dark voice murmurs. “ I like the fire in you.”
A shiver races down my spine, equal parts fear and anger. I grit my teeth, trying to mask the panic threatening to consume me. “ You’re going to regret this,” I hiss, though the quiver in my voice betrays my bravado.
The men’s laughter echo in my ears. They are enjoying this far too much.
“ Oh , I doubt that,” one says, his grip tightening just enough to make my breath hitch.
“ Let . Me . Go !” I scream, my voice echoing back at me in the stillness of the corridor. I hope someone hears me. Maybe Valeria is close by and will come tearing in, armed with one of her ridiculous ideas that somehow always works. But deep down, I know the truth: no one is coming.
Another laugh cuts through my thoughts, this one crueler. “ Oh , this is going to be so much fun.”
“ Fuck you,” I spit.
My body goes slack in their grip, defeated for now. They carry me like I weigh nothing, my limbs dangling like a ragdoll. I hate that I’ve lost the strength to resist.
It’s so dark in the passageway, I can barely see ahead. Then , just as a faint sliver of light appears, rough fabric is shoved over my head.
No .
No , no, no .
The world around me disappears, replaced by the scratchy heat of the bag pressing against my nose and mouth. My breathing spirals.
Calm the hell down, or you’re going to pass out—or worse, suffocate yourself .
But it’s impossible to fight the panic curling tighter and tighter in my chest, wrapping its icy hands around my lungs.
Are they trying to kill me ?
As if reading my spiraling thoughts, one of them speaks up, his tone mocking. “ Relax , Isabel . We’re not going to smother you to death.”
How fucking reassuring.
My chest tightens even more, and the panic doesn’t let up. My inhales are sharp, my pulse thundering in my ears.
“ Please , just let me go,” I croak. “ I don’t know what you want. I have nothing to offer you!” I thrash again, uselessly. Their hands stay locked on me like a vice, and my struggles only earn a low chuckle from one of them.
Then , out of nowhere, a gust of cool air hits me, brushing against my sweat-damp skin. The sudden change in temperature makes me shiver, goosebumps erupting all over my body.
Are we… outside?
The realization sets my heart racing even faster. I can now feel the ground beneath my feet, but my head is spinning too fast to focus.
They drag me forward, their shoes crunching against the dirt, until we come to a halt. The motion jerks me roughly, and my knees threaten to buckle, but they don’t loosen their grip.
Without warning, the bag is ripped off my head. I inhale sharply, gulping down fresh oxygen like I’ve been underwater for hours. My vision swims as I blink rapidly.
The first thing I see is the mansion behind me, its towering silhouette stark against the night sky. My stomach twists at how far we’ve come—too far for anyone inside to hear me scream.
When I turn back, my heart sinks. Trees surround us in every direction, a dense forest that stretches endlessly, and standing between me and any hope of escape are the three brothers, their figures cloaked in shadow.
When I see them—really see them, the masks are gone. And for a second, I forget how to breathe. Each of them is absurdly good-looking, in their own distinct way. They’re beautiful, and I hate myself for noticing. This isn’t the time.
Perhaps I could lose them in the woods, but reality hits me hard: I don’t know this property. I’d probably end up running straight into a trap or right back into their hands.
So , I do the next best thing.
I open my mouth, prepared to scream as loud as my lungs will let me, but before I can even draw a breath, Theodore cuts me off.
“ I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Ms . Vale ,” he says, his voice calm, like he’s used to being obeyed.
The way he says my name sends a chill down my spine.
They know I’m using an alias.
Suddenly , I’m not just another unlucky participant in whatever twisted game this is. I’m a target.
“ What do you want from me?” I wrap my arms around myself, desperate for some kind of barrier, no matter how small.
Theodore steps forward, and I instinctively retreat, my eyes wide and fixed on him like he’s some predator.
When he’s close enough that the space between us feels suffocating, he lifts an arm. For a moment, I think he might hit me, but instead, the back of his hand brushes against my cheek.
I flinch at the contact, but he doesn’t pull away. His touch is cold and smooth. My entire body betrays me, shuddering violently under his hand, as if an electric current just shot up my spine.
“ Everything , Siren ,” he whispers, his lips so close, I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. The nickname catches me off guard, slicing through the moment with an intimacy I wasn’t prepared for. It’s a promise wrapped in a warning.
The heat of his words lingers like an unwelcome embrace. Sensations pool low in my stomach that leave me angry and ashamed.
I try to focus on the terror I should be feeling instead of the confusing pull his presence creates.
I need to get away from them— now.
The towering trees seem like my only shot, even if I don’t know what lies beyond them. I turn my gaze toward the forest, scanning for any opening to slip away.
Before I can even shift my weight, Theodore’s hand snaps out, gripping my chin and forcing my face back toward him. His fingers press into my skin like he’s staking a claim.
“ Now , now, Siren .” His lips twitch into a mocking pout. “ You know you wouldn’t get far. Not unless we let you.”
I wrench my face out of his grip. “ Don’t fucking touch me, Theodore .”
His smile stretches wider, like I’ve just handed him exactly what he wanted. “ Say my name again,” he taunts. “ With more hate this time.”
Behind him, Julian finally makes a sound—an unimpressed scoff. It’s the first thing I’ve heard from him since they dragged me out here.
Maxwell’s laughter cuts through the tension. “ Oh , now you’ve gone and riled him up, Starling ,” he drawls, his tone dripping with amusement.
The nicknames send a jolt of anger through me, but I clamp my teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. My hands curl into fists at my sides as I glare at the three of them.
I force down the panic bubbling in my chest. If I let them see fear, they’ll feed on it. If I’m going to survive this, I can’t afford to give them anything more.
Theodore shakes his head slowly, a smug grin curling his lips. “ I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a chance to run through the forest. If you make it out, we’ll let you go. If you don’t...” He trails off, his eyes glinting with something dark and wicked. “ We get to keep you.”
My heart stutters in my chest, his words sending a cold rush through my veins. A chance to run? This has to be a trap. It feels like a trap.
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to gauge his angle. “ You’re just going to let me go?”
Theodore nods. “ If you’re able to find a way out of the forest, yes,” he says with a casual shrug, as if he’s offering me nothing more than directions to the nearest exit.
My throat suddenly goes dry. My instincts scream at me not to trust him, but what choice do I have?
“ What do you mean by ‘you get to keep me?’” I ask, forcing down a hard swallow.
Theodore’s grin widens. “ It means our plan continues as usual.”
My stomach twists. “ What plan?” I press.
Theodore throws his head back, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. “ Such a curious little siren.” He turns to his brothers, and they exchange a series of knowing smiles.
The way they look at each other—like they’re all in on some horrific secret—sends a fresh wave of panic rippling through me.
Theodore doesn’t bother facing me as he speaks again. “ You have a ten-second head start.”