Chapter 7 Elodie
ELODIE
Atingle zaps down my spine, jolting me awake.
I choke on my breath as I pry my eyes open, my pulse racing in my ears as I recall where I am.
The close proximity to other people that I don’t know instantly reminds me I’m in Jude’s world.
My eyelids shutter as I take a moment to catch my breath, and a fleeting visual of the last moments before I passed out consumes me.
Nausea burns in my throat as I rise to a sitting position, pressing my back against the wall as I exhale slowly.
I brush my hair back off my face, but it does nothing to untangle the matting I can feel.
I have bigger things to worry about, so I don’t let myself get caught up on something so cosmetic.
Especially when my clothes are still torn and stained in blood from Willow’s assault.
My eyebrows gather as I try to figure out when that was or how much time has passed, but I fall short, at a complete loss.
“Are you okay?”
I peer to my left, following the sound of the deep voice, to find the man who slept beside the woman, grasping her hand, only this time, their roles are reversed. The woman sleeps as he watches over her.
My heart clenches with thick emotions I can’t bring myself to decipher, but there’s definitely a hint of envy there.
Glancing from the sleeping woman back to the man, I clear my throat. “I’m okay,” I mumble, being polite only because the woman beside him was so nice to me.
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at me, the same warmth spreading across his features as the woman earlier. I should have gotten her name. “The minion checked on you a few times, but he didn’t get close,” he states, nodding toward the door, and I frown.
“Who, Walker?” I clarify, and his eyebrows rise in surprise.
“You know his name?”
“You don’t?” I retort, sharper than necessary, and he shakes his head.
I look down at my hands, a million questions racing through my mind, ready to kick my curiosity into overdrive, but I blink again and panic settles in when I recall what the woman had said to me before the darkness came hunting.
My eye.
I rub over my eyelid as I clear my throat and turn to the guy. A soft smile sets his lips in a thin line, and it’s enough to give me the strength to ask. “Is my eye still…” I wave at it, and understanding washes over him.
“Yes.”
Dammit.
As dumb as it seems, the damage to my eye threatens to pull me under, tip me over the edge, and send me spiraling into a maelstrom of self pity—the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back—but I push it aside and redirect my thoughts, distracting myself as always.
“Why don’t people just use their magic to get out of here?
” I blurt, and he sighs, glancing around the small space for a moment before his gaze returns to mine.
“We’re here by choice, remember?” he clarifies, acknowledging that he wasn’t actually asleep when I was speaking with the woman earlier.
“Besides, the room is a dead spot,” he adds, and it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows in confusion.
He understands immediately, waving his hand to indicate the entire space.
“The room is spelled, rendering us all useless in here.”
I nod, but something still gnaws at me. “If you guys are all here by choice, why doesn’t he give you better accommodations? If none of you are going to run, it doesn’t make sense to keep you all cooped up like this,” I state, and he nods as if he’s asked himself the same question before.
“He can contain us better this way. Plus, it gives him more control over us. He can monitor when we leave, when we eat, when we shower, change, and everything in between.”
“That sounds tough to accept,” I murmur, and a smile ghosts his face as he looks up at the ceiling.
“It’s worth it when you know the consequences of the alternative.”
My heart sinks at the admission. “I can’t imagine,” I mumble, lifting my knees to my chest as I wrap my arms around my legs. “Have you been here a long time?”
“Long enough to hope it wasn’t all for nothing,” he answers, making my stomach churn. “Can I ask you a question?” he follows up quickly, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, and I nod. “Why don’t you know—”
The door opens to reveal Walker, and the sound of the door scraping stops whatever question he was about to ask.
Blinking at the asshole who glares right at me, my heart races. Another captive steps in beside him, quickly taking their spot in the far left corner. They fall to the floor with a heavy sigh, but it doesn’t distract me for long as Walker calls my name.
“Elodie.”
I want to ignore him, but I can’t stop myself from tilting my head in his direction.
“Walker,” I retort, and he cocks a brow at me as I feel the eyes of every single person in here turn to look at me.
The intensity of their stares grows with every second as Walker grunts. “Come.”
It’s overwhelming how much I want to defy him, but instead, I rise to my feet and cut across the room with a glare locked on my face.
He takes a step back into the hallway as I reach the door, but before I cross the threshold, I peer back over my shoulder to find both members of the couple looking at me.
They smile, the action warm, and I manage a half smile in response before I slip into the hallway after Walker.
The second I’m out of the way, he reaches around me to close the door with a bang.
I don’t have time to flinch at the sudden sound before he grabs my chin, tilting my head back as he crowds my space. I know what has his attention: my eye.
My heart races in my chest, my defiance muted as I blink at him, but he doesn’t say a word; he simply stares at me like we’ve got all the time in the world.
It takes what feels like an eternity for me to find my tongue, but when I do, I grind out every word. “Are you taking me to be tortured?”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, but doesn’t move a single inch. “Jude wants to ensure you are fully healed before we go again.”
I gulp, dread settling into my gut. “How nice,” I mutter, making him shake his head as he finally leans back, dropping his hold from my chin to my arm as he guides me down the hallway, slipping into the second room.
The moment he clicks the door shut behind us, I finally remember to dig my heels in, preventing him from moving me any further as I take in the space.
I know deep down he could move me if he wanted to, but he seems to offer me a quick moment to breathe it all in.
Why? I don’t know, but I’m not willing to pass up the opportunity.
Raking my teeth over my bottom lip, I blink at the strange setup in the middle of the room. There’s a floating… white thing. It almost looks like a bed, but it’s slim, with a cover that is propped open.
A shiver runs down my spine as I start to shake my head, already feeling the impending doom that’s coming. Walker releases my arm to retrieve the material hanging off the side of the frame, retracing his steps back to me a moment later with the fabric extended in my direction.
“Change into these. I’ll give you a few moments,” he orders, his words low as he releases the soft t-shirt and pants before stomping toward the door.
The sound of it closing echoes around me as I glance from the weird contraption to the clothes and back to the door, repeating the motion two more times before I clench the clothes tighter.
I want to tell him to go fuck himself, I want him to look at the scars across my eye and see the damage he has contributed to as I somehow get myself out of this mess, but the longer I hold the clothes, the more my strength wanes.
Glancing down at the disarray I’m already wearing, I quickly concede, kicking off my tight shoes and shaking out of my torn clothes before replacing them with the garments he offered.
They gloss over my skin like silk, offering a little sense of freshness, but it doesn’t change the fact that my body is stained with blood and filth. All they do is mask the mess I am.
As I brush my hands over the t-shirt, hiding the scars that have almost healed at Jude’s doing, the door reopens and Walker strides back into the room, making sure to lock the door behind him.
“No knocking?” I sass, cocking a brow at him, but he ignores me as he moves around to the contraption I’d rather know nothing about. Unluckily for me, it’s as if he senses my thoughts, placing a hand on the side of it as he locks eyes with me.
“Get in.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “No, thanks.”
His lips purse as he sighs, tilting his head at me as a bored expression washes over his features. “You really don’t need to make it as hard as this, Elodie,” he states, and I fold my arms over my chest defensively.
“You really didn’t need to insert yourself in my life, make me believe you were my fucking savior, encourage me to lean on you, trust in you, only to be the biggest con artist of them all.” My chest heaves as my words hang in the air.
He clears his throat, waving his free hand at the floating bed chamber. “It’s a healing tank. Two hours in here and you’ll feel rejuvenated,” he offers, ignoring everything I just said. The words are seemingly meant to encourage me, but all they do is tighten my spine as I narrow my stare at him.
“Or?”
Another deep exhale, and he grunts. “Or what?”
“What if I don’t want to get in?” I clarify, refusing to move a step closer as fear trickles through my veins, the truth rearing its ugly head in my mind.
What if I’m too scared of the small space?
If Walker notices my tension, he doesn’t show it. “You either get in, or we put you in,” he states firmly, and frustration claws up my throat as I jab a finger at him.
“I won’t just bend to your will like everyone else,” I promise, turning for the door. The last thing I want to do is be any closer to the tank, but anticipation tingles deep in my soul, making it impossible for me to stand still.
My fingers reach for the door handle, but before I get the luxury of feeling the brass knob against my palm, I’m lifted off my feet. I scream, frustration charging me as Walker slings me over his shoulder, striding back toward my worst nightmare as the exit grows farther and farther away.
Determined not to give up without a fight, I kick, yell, and punch at his back like a feral bitch, but it’s no use; it’s impossible for me to overpower him.
Taking a deep breath, I still myself a beat before I slam my palm against his lower back, the closest part of him I can get my hands on, but nothing happens.
There’s no time for me to try and ground myself like the woman had taught me before he lowers me into the tank. I yelp, crying his name, but the second my ass hits the base, the lid closes, trapping me inside.
Hysteria coils in my chest as I slam my hands against the glass. “Walker! Walker, please,” I beg, pounding my hands hard and desperate against the top and sides as they press in around me, but he slinks out of view, seemingly without a care, as nausea burns deep in my throat.
Tears burn the back of my eyelids as my breathing becomes labored, while black splotches taint the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision.
Despite my panic, I hear a slight hiss from above and peer up to see a soft puff of air float from a vent by my head. After two stiff inhalations, I can’t tell if it’s the air or my fear that’s making me drowsy. By the fifth short breath, it doesn’t matter as I succumb to the darkness.
It drenches me, my body lax and my mind quiet.
I find my breathing slowly starts to even out as my pulse echoes around me.
Certain death is upon me as I melt into the shadows that claim me, but before the end arrives, a flash of gray dances across my vision, quickly revealing itself as a gothic castle.
Turrets frame the tall towers that stand miles in the air, while the wooden doors stand bolted shut on the other side of the moat. The river runs calmly, the sound soothing, but as the breeze flutters around me, I find my attention caught on one thing.
My breath hitches as I narrow my stare, blinking in disbelief as I spy a balcony just off to the left of the entryway. It’s not the dark gray stone pillars that harbor my attention, but the person sitting on the edge, legs dangling over the side as they stare out at the land.
Frowning, I clear my throat, ready to test their name on the tip of my tongue, when their gaze snaps to mine, drenching me in their pitch black depths. Frozen in place, I know I’m dreaming, but I croak one word nonetheless. Letting the weight of it take root in my soul.
“Thorne.”