Chapter 15 Yara
YARA
I jolted awake as the sound of laughter pushed through my consciousness.
My eyes tried focusing on the place around me, but all I could see were the walls with peeling white color and the shapes of people I couldn't recognize.
The humidity in the air snuck inside my lungs making it so much harder to breathe, as if I wasn't already feeling like I was in someone else's nightmare.
I looked down, checking my body, only to realize I was no longer wearing my clothes from before.
My T-Shirt and jeans were replaced by some sort of a dress—white fucking dress, without a speck of dirt on it.
I could feel my heart thundering in my chest. I could feel my lungs seizing while my brain tried to catch up, still waking up from whatever it was they had drugged me with.
"Finally—" a voice from my left made me look at him, "—a sleeping beauty awakens."
The masks I saw earlier weren't just a figment of my imagination. They were as real as me and this person standing next to me—a person that was wearing the same exact mask.
"What's the matter?" He chuckled. "Cat got your tongue?
" There was something familiar about him.
With the way he stood, the way he held himself, the way he spoke, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
I couldn't fucking comprehend what was happening, least of all who was in front of me.
"It's okay," he murmured, dropping down to his hunches right next to me. "Everything will be explained shortly."
I wanted to yell, to ask questions flickering around my head, but I couldn't move.
I couldn't fucking move and as I looked around the room, I realized that there were other girls.
Girls wearing the same white dress as me.
Girls who were probably the same age as me, and the longer I looked the more I realized I saw them before.
I saw them at the Country Club.
I saw them in the hallways of our university.
I saw them on the Sunday Market in town.
Yet none of them looked distressed. None of them seemed scared, not like me. They almost looked proud to be here. Proud to be sitting on the ground as these men laughed around, keeping us here like cattle.
A hand landed on my bare shoulder, dragging down over my bicep all the way to my wrist. "You know," the fucker next to me mumbled, "we could've had so much fun together, but you chose wrong. You chose him."
Who? Who the fuck did I choose?
I didn't want this. I didn't want to be here, least of all to play some sick games these idiots were about to play. And the more I looked at them, the more I listened to the man next to me, the more I started realizing that I knew them. I had no doubt one of them was my fucking stepbrother.
I also had no doubt that others were his friends and the other people I didn't have a chance to meet.
For weeks there were whispers about the big event happening and this one being the highlight of the decade, not just the year, but I paid no attention to it, wallowing in my own depths of despair, trying to make sense of these feelings I had developed and the future I wanted to have. I should have paid attention.
I should have known these rich motherfuckers would've had some sick games planned for their annual gatherings. I thought it was related to the festival in town, but no. It was this—whatever this was.
The pressure on my wrist increased, earning a small yelp from me and as I turned to the masked face and the soulless eyes staring at me, I knew I wasn't going to have the same role as these girls. They might be playing the game, but I had a feeling I would be fighting for my life.
"It's such a shame, really." He chuckled, removing his hand.
"You could've been a perfect bride for me, but you had to fuck it all up.
But—" he leaned closer, "—don't worry. You will still be mine, one way or another.
And I can't wait to find out the taste of your pussy.
I bet you wouldn't be able to resist me.
After all, you did fuck your own stepbrother, so why shouldn't I get a taste? "
"W-What?" I stammered, the first word rolling off my tongue as the sweat ran down my spine, disappearing inside the dress I wore. What the fuck was he talking about? How did... How did they know?
"I've been watching you, trying to figure out what made him hate you so much, but it wasn't the hatred he felt, wasn't it?
He was obsessed with you since the moment he met you, but he couldn't admit it to himself.
He couldn't even look at you without looking like a lovesick puppy, and I knew you would be a perfect sacrifice.
You would be a perfect weapon to be used against him. "
A sacrifice? A weapon? What the fuck was he talking about?
"You'll see." He chuckled darkly. "All will be explained."
"All rise!" the voice from the other side of the room boomed, making the hair on the nape of my neck raise. The man next to me stood up, abandoning his spot and as he did so did the other girls. They stood as straight as arrows, with their chins held high and small smiles plastered on their faces.
I could feel eyes on me, but I refused to budge.
If they thought I would be a compliant little girl, following their orders after getting kidnapped, they had another thing coming.
But before I could move back, closer to the opposite wall from where everyone else stood, strong fingers wrapped around my bicep, lifting me up effortlessly.
I looked to my left only to see that same mask in front of my face as he lifted me up.
"You gotta stand when your king comes, princess. We wouldn't want him to see you on the ground, would we now?"
The sound of the massive doors opposite of me opening had me looking at the source, away from the monster next to me.
The monster who I couldn't understand, not fully, but I didn't need to know his motives to understand that this was one disturbed individual.
Which meant I had to run, I had to save myself.
But before the plan could even be formulated, before I could even start thinking of an escape, another figure entered the room, pulling everyone's attention to him.
He wore the mask, just like the others, but unlike theirs, his had crimson swirls on the right side of the face, and in the dimmed lighting of the room, I could almost swear they were alive, moving with him.
The dark hoodie he wore did nothing to hide the fact that he was massive, much taller than me, and therefore a lot more dangerous.
Yet as those eyes landed on me, after perusing all the others, I knew this was no stranger.
No, the man standing not too far from me was the one who ignited the fire deep inside my gut.
He was the one who made me believe in fairytales for just a few moments.
He was the one who made me run, because I thought he would change his mind.
He was the man I loved.
He was the man I thought could save me, but now I knew better.
I didn't need to see underneath that mask. I didn't need to see his face to know who it was.
I knew the shape of those shoulders. I knew the strong muscles lining his legs from hours and hours spent in the gym and swimming.
I fucking knew those long fingers as if they were my own, spending hours trying to perfect him, his body, his dark eyes.
And as he looked at me, as he dragged those dark eyes down my body, I knew without a doubt who it was.
"Xavier," I barely whispered, feeling my lower lip wobble.
I wanted him to come to me, to tell me this was all a mistake.
I wanted him to take off the fucking mask hiding him from me.
Deep down I always knew I was nothing more but a toy in his perfect life, but I wanted to believe the pretty lies he told me.
I wanted them so badly.
This is what I get for believing in a fairytale. This is what I get for thinking things would be different.
This is what I get for thinking somebody else would save me, because no one was coming. No one cared enough when I was just a child, why would anyone start now?
"You all know what tonight is." His voice washed over me, reminding me of the last time we spoke.
Of his gentleness, the way he touched me, the way he pretended to almost love me.
There was none of that softness now, only ice piercing through every word he said.
The girls and men in masks murmured "yes" in unison, almost bowing to him.
"The Harvest happens every year, as a rite of passage from our ancestors to us.
From those who built this city, who made sure that the bloodlines stayed strong, ensuring we only married those worthy of us.
So, are you worthy?" he asked everyone, but he was looking at me.
Looking at my fucking soul and it took everything in me not to flip him off.
The man standing next to me no longer held my arm, but I had no doubt he was placed there to make sure I wouldn't try anything funny.
The girls yelled out proudly, "Yes," while the men stood still, looking at each and every one of them.
"Good," Xavier said. "Then let the Harvest begin."