Chapter 18 - Amber #2
Eric had told her on plenty of occasions that she was weak, worthless, lazy, and all sorts of other insults along those lines.
They were simply part of his regular vocabulary.
Cillian, as far as she could remember, had never said anything remotely insulting about her.
He’d even complimented her on more than one occasion.
You’re amazing, his voice echoed in her head.
She thought back to everything he had said earlier that night. He had never told her she was weak or even that she couldn’t leave at some point. He had just told her that she needed to wait until they figured out more.
That doesn’t change the fact that he locked me in my room, she thought, her grip on the strap of her duffle bag tightening. Actions speak louder than words.
That knowledge should have sent a wave of fresh rage through her.
Instead, she hesitated, gnawing her lip.
She should be angry—and she was. He had gone too far.
Except that the insistence that she needed to leave was waning.
He had locked her in her room to protect her.
He’d married her to protect her. If he hadn’t shown up when he had, who knew where she would be or what she’d be doing right now.
She didn’t want to think about what Eric would be making her do if he still had his hands on her.
Spiders crawled up her spine, and she shuddered.
Cillian, on the other hand, had given her a room in his house.
He’d built her a library. Most importantly, he’d treated her like a person.
He had been kind most of the time. Even before everything with Eric, he had taught her how to defend herself.
Hell, he had even taught her how to work through some of her trauma.
No one else had ever done that for her before.
He was the first person to see Amber as more than dead weight or someone to do all their chores and listen to whatever they told her to do.
He had cared about her in his own way, even if he hadn’t always shown it in a way she appreciated.
And she enjoyed spending time with him. She liked that he made her laugh. She liked bantering with him. She liked that he challenged her. The thought that she’d never again banter with him over dinner or argue with him about her sparring techniques sent an unpleasant pang of hollowness through her.
Something wet was on her cheeks. Frowning, she reached up and wiped below each one, looking down at her fingers. Something damp gleamed in the moonlight. She stared at her fingers, eyebrows raised. Was she crying? Why?
Because she didn’t want to leave.
But that didn’t make sense. There was nothing here for her.
Except there was.
Realization slammed into her. She had fallen in love with Cillian.
It felt impossible. It felt ridiculous to admit, considering everything.
But he had made her feel strong. He had given her confidence.
Would his betrayal have stung as much if she hadn’t fallen for him?
She wasn’t sure, but she did know that she wouldn’t have fought back as much without him.
She liked his fire and his sardonic nature.
Their relationship had started off strange, but she couldn’t deny that she felt drawn to him.
In another life, they could have grown close on their own terms. Who knew what might have happened if Eric hadn’t shown up and complicated everything?
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She wanted to stay. As impossible as that seemed, she wanted to stay. She wanted to yell at Cillian and call him a jerk, then make up and see if they could work through it. She wanted to see what would happen between them if they gave it a real shot.
Sighing, she turned and walked back the way she had come, already planning what she would say to Cillian whenever she saw him.
A rustle sounded to her left. She paused, glancing into the woods. There was nothing there, but something prickled at the nape of her neck. She tensed, peering deeper into the forest.
Nothing.
Frowning, she kept moving, telling herself that it was only the wind.
A branch snapped.
Amber froze, her eyes wide. Her heart thumped.
Her fingers flexed. After half a second, she started moving again, walking faster.
She told herself that it was her imagination, that she wasn’t actually hearing footsteps pacing behind her, speeding or slowing in time with her own.
She pushed forward, her stomach churning.
Eventually, her paranoia got the better of her, and she broke into an all-out sprint.
She kept running, her heart thudding in her chest. The moonlight barely penetrated the dark, and she had to maneuver through the trunks.
She didn’t even fully know where she was going; she could be sprinting away from town for all she knew.
It didn’t matter. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, to get away.
She didn’t know who or what might be following her, and she didn’t care. If she could just—
Like a ghost, Eric appeared in front of her. She stumbled back, her heart leaping into her throat. Eric’s face was sliced by moonlight, making his smirk look sinister, almost grotesque.
Her mouth parted, eyes wide, and the world seemed to stop.
Her chest tightened, and she struggled to breathe at the man who had made her life hell.
She tried to tell herself that it was just her imagination, the heightened emotions of the night getting to her. But then he opened his mouth and spoke.
“Hey, Amber,” he said. “How’re you doing?”
Part of her wanted to freeze in panic. Instead, she spun on her heels and tried to race away. She only got a handful of steps when two other large shifters emerged from the shadows and blocked her path.
“Allow me to introduce you to some of the Night Pack,” Eric said.
Her mouth parted. She took in the other two shifters, both almost as large as Eric, both with sneers on their faces as they leered down at her. They took a step toward her. She stepped back, a lump forming in her throat. They kept moving closer, pushing her back toward Eric.
“We were just scouting out the area,” Eric said, almost amusedly. “You know, to see what sort of defenses the place had.” He grinned at her, showing sharp teeth. “Seeing you is just a boon.”
That grin snapped her out of her shock and stupor. Gritting her teeth, refusing to freeze in terror again, she dropped the duffle and spun on her heels, charging towards the woods.
Eric caught up with her in three easy strides, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against him. His other arm snaked around her waist as she struggled to break his grasp.
“You didn’t learn anything from last time, did you?” he hissed in her ear, jostling her. “I knew you weren’t the smartest, but I thought you would have figured out by now that you’re not going to be able to run from me.”
She let out a scream, but his hand on her mouth quickly smothered it.
“Now, now. There’s no need to be so ungrateful,” Eric said, still grasping her so tight that he was cutting off her circulation. “You’re going to be our guest for a while.” He released her mouth.
“You’re an asshole,” she spat. “Let me go.”
He laughed in her ear, the voice a rasp, sending her back years to where he was stuck in his house. Shivers rippled down her spine.
“I will,” he said. “Assuming that husband of yours agrees to our terms. He was so eager to buy you. I wonder what he’ll do to hold onto you.”
She thrashed in his grasp, but he held her tight, refusing to let go. Her foot slammed down, her heel ramming onto his toes. He grunted, but only held tighter.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he growled in her ear, then straightened. “Come on,” he said to the other Night Pack wolves as she continued to struggle. “Change in plans. We’ll finish scouting the area later.”
The other two wolves nodded silently.
Without another word, Eric dragged her into the woods, hauling her away.