by P. A. Warren
“Get off me, get off me, get off me,” I whisper to myself, hitting the metal chains against the floor. When nothing I do help, I drop my bloody hands in my lap and feel something furry run across my leg. I gasp and then start screaming and continue until my throat is raw. I’m not sure how long I scream, but no one comes to my aid.
Hours later I’m still in the room and somewhere water is dripping, and it’s been dripping the entire time I’ve been awake. It’s driving me insane.
“HELP ME! LET ME OUT!!” I scream but no one comes. Fear keeps me awake.
When the door finally clicks, it makes my body jump and suddenly I’m wide awake, all my nerves on edge. I assume its morning and move my neck to the left and right trying to work the kinks out of it to no avail. I’m not sure when I actually fell asleep since I’ve lost track of time, but at some point my exhaustion won the battle. My stomach growls in hunger but no food is brought until the next day. Even then it’s just a simple plate of eggs and toast, which I eat as if it was the holy grail of food. The only person I’ve seen is the guard who leers and brings a glass of water, but he throws it in my face. This continues for several days.
***
I’m roughly shaken awake, it’s the only way they ever wake me up. I slowly flutter my eyes open and see that a man is standing in front of me with an evil grin on his face. Rearing back as he startles me, I’m yet again reminded that I am being held against my will, and my heart starts racing.
“Get up!” the guard growls, tugging me up by my hair.
I try to get up, but my legs don’t agree with me and refuse to work. I think the lack of food is starting to affect me. I don’t get up fast enough for the guard, so as he unchains me, he pulls me behind him, causing me to trip. He then drags me out the door and pulls me up roughly in his arms and into a different room. He never says a word as he drops me and I fall to the floor. The man walks around the room turning water on and off. He whistles while he continues to pace the room slowly before stopping in front of me and forcing my chin up with his finger.
“Be a good girl for Griffin and you might make it out alive,” he murmurs to me, his sour breath making me gag.
He removes his finger from my chin and leaves the room without another word, locking the door behind him. Kneeling, I pound on the door as my heartbeat accelerates. I glance around and find absolutely no windows and no way to leave. The room is white, stark white with a bathtub in it. Fear begins to take over my senses as my teeth start chattering. Walking over to the tub and peering down, I see jelly-like clear things floating around and wonder what they are and why they are there. The door creaks open causing my stomach to do a somersault and what little food I ate is threatening to make its reappearance. He slams the door shut just as quickly as he opened it. Looking up, all the blood rushes to my head. I’m staring at a much older version of Jason, only Jason didn’t have that glint in his eyes. I flinch and avert my gaze from his menacing glare. His jaw clenches when he pointedly glances at me, as if I’ve just pissed him off by being alive.
“’I’m Griffin, the leader of the Western Clan, and here you are still alive and kicking,” he purrs at me.
Unsure of how to respond, I nod my head, not looking at him.
“I want to know where the Maji is.”
This draws my attention, and I lift my head to look at him. I suddenly remember my grandmother's words and do the only thing I can think to do—I lie. “I don’t have the Magi.”
“Liar!” Walking towards the tub, he looks back at me and motions for me to come near him.
I refuse and stay right where I am.
He glares with a murderous expression on his face, and before I can even think he’s grabbing me by the hair and dunking me in the ice cold water. Lifting me up again, I’m barely able to get a breath in before he dunks me again. Lifting me up again, he snickers, “The guards said you were starting to smell, so I thought it would be in everyone’s best interest if you had a bath.”
He dunks me again, only this time he doesn’t pull me up. I need air. I start to panic and claw at the slippery tub, trying to hold on to it, but failing. I open my mouth to get air and the water fills my lungs. I choke dramatically as he finally pulls me up, looks at me in disgust, and throws me on the floor.
“You’re worse than pathetic. You’re worthless. If I didn’t have a need for you, you’d be dead by now,” he utters in disgust before stomping from the room and slamming the door, leaving me cold and shivering on the floor. I lift my wet, clammy hair that’s lying limp in my face and try to stand. I slip on the tile and fall back to the floor. I lay there, and the feeling of utter helplessness consumes me. My body convulses as the tears flow, and the realization that I’m totally alone soaks in. It’s never been like me to give up in the past, but I sink lower and finally accept my defeat.
***
I wake to find a glass of water sitting on the floor by the mattress. My eyes widen in surprise. It’s the first good thing that has happened since I arrived in the horrid place. I delicately sniff it to see if they put anything in it. Taking a small sip, I don’t taste anything as I hold the glass awkwardly, almost afraid to drink it. I have no recollection of being brought back in here, yet here I am, back in the old room. Pushing my matted hair out of my face, I lick my dry chapped lips before shakily grasping the water in both my hands. As some of it spills over the glass, I suck it off my dirty hands. It’s the best tasting thing since… well, since anything. It tastes like pure gold. It wets my dry tongue as I let it roll around my mouth, and then I’m gulping it down with haste, unable to stop myself. I feel such relief as I feel the water slide down my throat and soothe its dryness. After draining the entire glass, my stomach feels queasy, and I clench it, making it to the side of the mattress just in time to heave all the contents onto the floor. I shake from the exertion of getting sick and lay limp on the mattress, staring into the darkness.
I wish I had a watch or something so I wouldn’t feel quite as lost. I don’t know if several minutes have passed or hours, but I apparently passed out after I threw up. I’m awakened by the door slamming and a small beam of light blaring through the opening. It’s almost blinding since I haven’t seen light for so long. I shield my eyes and they are so swollen that I can’t seem to open them very far and the blinding light makes them water. Hearing footsteps coming closer to me, I huddle into a tight ball, expecting the worse. I crack one eye slightly open and gaze at the tops of two very expensive leather shoes.
“Hello, Claire,” a man says softly, standing over me. “My name’s Riley and I can either be your worst nightmare if you don’t cooperate… or your best friend if you do. It is your choice to make.”
His voice sends chills up and down my spine, and I instantly start shaking, wondering what’s to come next. Haltingly, I lift my eyes upwards toward the voice and flinch when his fingers grab my chin, gripping it tightly. He tilts my face towards the light and makes me look him in the eye. Biting down on my lip, I taste blood, but I look directly at him. I watch his pupils get larger and larger. I blink and try and look anywhere else but at his eyes. He lets me go so quickly I fall back towards the floor. I’m shocked at what I see; the expression on his face is one of fear and wonder as he stares down at me without saying a word.
“Well,” he finally says slowly, “that is definitely interesting, which means what they say is true, you can’t be compelled, but I must say your blood smells amazing, I can’t wait to have a taste.”
My brain is going a mile a minute, wondering what exactly he’s saying. I have no idea what this compelled thing is he’s talking about. I mean I’ve heard the phrase on a vampire show I used to watch, but that’s it. This is real life, vampires aren’t real.
Looking at him, I’m still taken aback at how much he looks like Jason, only a few years older than him. Could they be related? No, that’s not possible. He looks so normal that if I met him at school, I wouldn’t say no to a date. Not that I’m considering it right now, bec
ause quite frankly, he’s scaring the shit out of me. He has chestnut brown hair with amber eyes; he’s also wearing a button down short sleeved midnight blue shirt and a pair of jeans that really don’t yell ‘I can kill you with one single snap of the neck’.
I refuse to look at him, and stare straight at the wall, my body shaking in fear. “Why am I here and what do you want from me?” I manage to croak out.
Ignoring my question, he studies me as if he’s trying to memorize me. “Do you have any idea who I am?” he asks as he takes his hand and runs it up my arm and tracing the edge of my sleeve. He moves his finger towards the v-neck of my pink tank top. Tugging me closer, he sniffs my neck and stays there inhaling. I try not to cringe as his finger follows the edge of my shirt to the front of my chest where he stares at the necklace I’m wearing. Lifting it, he raises an eyebrow and drops it.
“I asked if you had any idea who I am,” he repeats the question.
“You…you said your name was Riley, but I don’t know why I’m here or who you are other than your name,” I tell him as he moves away from me and walks towards the other side of the room.
My eyes widen in panic as he picks up a black whip that he touches lovingly.
“I’m Riley Dumont,” he tells me, snapping the whip after he says his name.
Jumping, I try to inch away as far as the chains will allow me.
“Do you want to know why you’re here?” he asks, motioning for the guard that’s suddenly appeared with a chair and brown liquid in his hand. Sitting down and crossing one leg on top of the other, Riley swirls the amber liquid, looking at me above the rim of his glass.
“You’re here because your father took something my father wants. He took my family’s right to the throne away from him,” he says in a chilling voice that makes me start shaking, causing the chains to rattle.
He sets his drink down and grabs my shoulders so that I’m facing him and puts his face right into mine. “Your heart rate tells me you’re scared. You should be. If you knew the things I’ve done to people you would wish you were already dead.”
I feel every beat my heart makes, like a jackhammer inside my chest, but I look at him straight in the eye for the first time, and what I see in his eyes scares the hell out of me. They are pure circles of black, and my eyes drop down, looking to his mouth and I gasp when I see fangs drop down. Fangs? People don’t have fangs. Looking up at them again, I don’t even think, just reacts, and my reaction is to move as far as I can from him.
I forget about the chains and jerk back and almost break my wrists. He sits back in his chair and laughs at me. “Bring in the girl.”
A young man wearing a black bulletproof vest brings a blonde girl in, pulling her by the back of her dress and drops her at the Riley’s feet, as if she were trash rather than a human being. Riley picks the girl up and sits her on his lap and plays with her hair as she sits there docile like a doll.
“You know, Claire, your mother was most helpful turning you over to my father, and she sung like a bird, telling him where you were. That is, until I broke her neck. She expected something from my father. I can’t stand a traitor and she was traitorous to you, even though it helped us immensely.”
I gasp at his words, they leave me cold. My mother was an evil woman, but she was still my mother. I sit still as stone, trying to process his revelations when he draws my attention back to him.
He tilts the girl’s head so her neck is bare and starts caressing it, tracing her carotid artery with his finger. I shiver as I watch him and swallow in fear, yanking on the chains and crying out.
“You keep pulling on the chains as if you will break them eventually… you know that’s impossible right?”
Swallowing, I refuse to look at him and yank defiantly on the chain again, and for the first time, I enjoy the sound as they rattle against the wall. He stares me down as his fangs drop, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the fear coursing through me.
“Watch me as I kill her! Watch me!” He continues yelling at me. “Watch what you will become and what I will have the pleasure of making you into.”
His pearly fangs glint in the light as he opens his mouth and clamps down on the girl’s neck. She doesn’t even make a single noise. She just sits there and holds both hands clasped together in her lap, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Hearing the gulping sounds coming from him makes my stomach turn over, and I barely have time to move to the edge of the bed before my stomach lurches and the dry heaves begin. It empties itself of what little was in it.
Lifting his head, he looks at me with a content smirk as she unceremoniously falls to the floor with a thump. He leans down and uses his finger to swipe some blood from her neck and approaches me. “Have you ever had blood?”
My mind suddenly goes back to the day in the bathroom when I cut myself shaving my legs and wanted to try it, but I shake my head no, pursing my lips closed. I don’t want any blood. I crab walk backwards as I try to get as far from him as I possibly can, only it’s no use as he follows and presses me against the wall. I turn my head to the side and feel a tear run down my face as I close my eyes. He takes his bloody finger and traces my lips, and I feel the wetness seep into my skin and shudder knowing the girl is dead.
He leans back and examines my lips, touching them softly, “Taste your lips.”
He’s acting like this is something I’m willingly doing. What the hell? I shake my head no and purse my lips tightly together.
He gives me this appalled look. “No one has told you yet, have they?” he asks looking at me in sadness. “Such a pity, you could have been groomed for so much. Instead, they left you useless, bad for you, good for me. Now lick your lips.”
Refusing, I curl myself into as much of a ball as I can to make myself as small as I can.
Without warning, I’m lifted up as far as my chains will allow and pressed against the wall again. Riley presses his body into mine and crushes his blood -soaked lips to mine. I try to fight him off; pushing against his shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. When I feel a wave of something tingle through me, somehow I know everything is going to be okay. The pressure of his lips against mine is intense. It feels surprisingly normal and not torturous like I was expecting, which is really conflicting with how he has been acting. My mind doesn’t know how to deal about this. My brain says run away, and my body says stay for more. His lips are soft and warm against mine, his tongue presses against the seam of my lips, and I open my mouth, letting him in. He has such a sweet flavor to him that I don’t hesitate to pull his tongue into my mouth and suck, forgetting there’s blood on it. I feel myself getting extremely turned on by the taste of blood and the way his mouth is moving against mine. I feel his hard body pressed against mine and it’s telling me that he feels the effects of the kiss as well. He suddenly pulls back with a surprised look on his face and then puts his forehead against mine.
“What just happened?” he whispers to himself, looking down at me. “Have you used one of your spells on me?”
Hanging my head in shame, I look anywhere but at him. I’m embarrassed that I would ever do something like this and the feeling of shame washing over me is great. His words finally soak in and I glance up at him. Did he just say spells? “Spells, what are you talking about?” I ask, stunned and shaking my head at him. “Spells aren’t real. They’re something you read in a book, or watch on TV, not in real life.”
His gaze is intense and shakes his head, running his hand through his already tousled hair. “No, when I kissed you I felt something, didn’t you?” He instantly grabs my shirt and lifts it up.
Aghast, I cringe as cool air hits my chest, and I watch closely at an area right above my bra cup. I glance at him and notice his face has gone white as he stares at my chest. I watch him swallow deeply and lift his hand to the spot he is staring at. I look down again and notice a small black symbol about the size of a half dollar. It appears to be a name in cursive with a small symbol next to it, something that wasn’t
there five minutes ago. Frozen, I’m left chained to the wall, staring at the name above my left breast in shock and with more questions than answers.
“Shit…fuck!” he yells angrily, throwing the chair across the room and making me jump. .
He approaches me again and looks at me in shock as he pulls my shirt down and whispers into my ear, “Don’t tell anyone, and I mean anyone, what just happened.” Staring at his eyes as they go fully black, I watch helplessly as he stalks out of the room, slamming the door with a boom.
Left in the overwhelming silence, all I hear are my gasps and the loud wheezing sound coming from my throat as I stare at the dead girl still lying on the floor and drained of all of her blood. I feel what little I’ve eaten present itself again and barely make it in time to throw up in the bucket that was left on the floor. My head’s spinning with everything that’s happened. It’s just too much for me to take in, and I let my body slide down the wall, staring blankly at my bloody and bruised legs. How did Riley’s name get on my chest, and what exactly does this mean? Lifting my head, I notice blood on the sheets from the dead girl. It’s then that I feel something tearing out of my gums with such force I can’t help but scream, and once I start screaming I can’t stop.
Chapter 14
Riley
I slam the door to the cell and order the guards to leave. I proceed to shove my back against the wall, sliding towards the floor and breathing heavily as I take it all in. I’ve just found my bond mate, a girl who has been tortured, that I took part in torturing, and should hate is chained to a wall. My father will kill her if he finds out. I know what I have to do. I have to complete the bonding process and get her the hell out of here. Holy fuck, what is wrong with me? I’m Riley fucking Dumont, and this shit doesn’t happen to me; I’m above that. I. Am. Fucking. Above. That.
