Under His Rule (Dark Romance Suspense)

by Clarissa Wild

  “The door,” I whisper. “C’mon.”

  I shove it open and make a run for it.

  Again.

  I don’t care what happened last time, I’m not going in the same direction this time, and I know I’m much more alert now than I was before.

  My feet take me through the grass, naked and barefooted, but the cold won’t affect me now. I’m already used to the lack of clothing. The prickling of the wind against my skin only spurs me on. I don’t look behind me, not even to see if the girl is following me. All I care about is getting away from here.

  However, two guards stand right in front of me, so I veer sideways, straight for the fence in the distance. There are a lot of trees and stumps in the way, but I zigzag through the forest like a deer running for the headlights.

  The guards chase after me while I run like hell across fallen leaves and rocks, barely managing to stay upright. By the time they catch up, I’m already crawling my way up the fence. There’s barbed wire on top, but I don’t care. I’ve already lost my mind.

  “Stop!” they yell, and one of them latches on to my foot.

  “Let go of me!” I squeal.

  There’s that electrical current forcing its way through my body again. My muscles contract so hard that I release the fence and fall to the ground in one go. My lungs expel all oxygen as I spasm in the dirt. Two men lean over my body and look at me with dirty smiles on their faces while I can’t fucking breathe.

  “Again, eh? This one just won’t give up,” one of them says, and he kicks me in the side.

  I groan in agony from the electricity and the painful jab.

  “What do you say we teach her a lesson?” he says, unbuckling his belt.

  Oh, no. No, no. This can’t happen.

  “Wait, what if they find out?”

  “They won’t if you won’t tell them,” the guy says.

  Tears roll down my cheeks as I shake my head in shock.

  “But you know it’s against the rules,” the guy says.

  “Fuck the rules,” the guy with the unbuckled belt says, and he spits on the floor right next to my head. “This captured needs to learn her place.”

  He zips down his pants right in front of me. I shudder and try to move, but my arms and legs are still numb from the Taser. I can’t fight them off; all I can do is close my eyes and pray it’s over soon.

  Suddenly, he shakes and falls to the ground, right next to me.

  My body shakes vigorously, my eyes wide open as the man groans and heaves. The same pin that electrified me is now stuck in his back.

  “How dare you.” I look up to see where the voice is coming from. It’s that same woman from before who’s been taunting me and pushing me to my limits. Now she’s come to my rescue? This doesn’t make any sense.

  “Fuck, what the fuck? You fucking—”

  She zaps him again, and he rolls around on the floor in pain while I smirk in delight.

  “What the fuck! How fucking dare you!” the guy swears after a while.

  “I am well within my rights as an elder’s wife. Know your place,” she barks.

  He gets up, and I crawl away from him on my elbows.

  “You should know better than to try to defile the body of a captured,” she spits at him. “They are sacred. Unlike you.” She throws him a look that reminds me of a bulldog with the bite to match.

  But what does she mean by sacred? Me? I’m anything but sacred.

  “You.” She looks at the other guard now. “Go back to your post.”

  The guy reluctantly agrees. I get the sense that they don’t respect her authority, which makes sense, considering the bizarre words she uses to describe people. Elder. Captured. I don’t know what world I got caught up in, but it isn’t mine.

  “And you …” she hisses, narrowing her eyes at the man lying on the ground, still breathing out loud from the pain he had to endure. The same pain he’d happily inflict on me.

  “I will report this to my elder.”

  “Wait, please.” He lifts his hand.

  She zaps him again.

  “You will be punished for your indiscretion, as it is by God’s will.”

  “What? Please, no,” he mutters in pain.

  “Silence!” she says, zapping him again. “Pain is for the wicked; pleasure is for the obedient. Those who defy the Lord’s will shall be punished aptly,” she says. “Now be gone before I report this behavior to a patriarch.”

  The man gets up on two feet. “Praise the Lord, have mercy,” the guy mumbles, clutching a chain around his neck before quickly taking off.

  She watches him leave before scribbling something in a notebook she tucks away again as soon as I get off the ground.

  “Do not try anything,” she says, pointing the Taser at me. “Get back to your hut. Now.”

  “Why do you do this?”

  She doesn’t reply; she just stares at me.

  “What about the other girl? Did you take her too?”

  I look around, but the girl is nowhere to be found.

  Shit. She must’ve been caught somewhere else … or she’s still in there, too afraid to leave.

  “Unlike you, she actually follows rules,” the woman says, coughing.

  So she never left … damn.

  I thought she’d at least be brave enough to try. Maybe she’s already given up the fight.

  “Submit to the Lord, captured, and your sins will be forgiven,” the woman says.

  I make a face and snort. “I don’t want to be forgiven.”

  She licks her dry, cracked lips. “Suit yourself.”

  She pulls out what looks like a baton. “Go. Now.”

  I contemplate fighting her, but I know I’m outmatched. She has all the weapons. I have none, except this stupid sharp object I used to open the door. Wait …

  I don’t think. I lunge at her with everything I have, stabbing her with the sharp edge of the camera. Straight in the chest.

  She heaves and stumbles away, pushing me off her. Blood seeps through her clothes. I stop to stare for a moment, surprised by my own violence, my own hatred toward a woman I don’t know, a woman I don’t care about and don’t ever want to meet.

  I look down at my bloodied hands, which are shaking relentlessly, and I feel disgusted. Horrible. And in my terror, I sink to the ground, just as the woman in front of me.

  Guards come to us, some of them grabbing the woman, pulling her away. Two others clasp their hands around my waist and drag me back to the shed.

  I don’t even fight them.

  I don’t make a sound.

  I’m stunned by my own ability to hurt someone like that by my own violence.

  And as they close the door on me, I rub my stained hands on the walls and floors, desperate to clean myself of the sin I committed.

  But nothing can rinse this stain from my soul.

  Noah

  “Patriarch …”

  I lean up from my prayer and look at the man standing in the doorway.

  “You’d better have good reason to interrupt my prayer,” I say.

  He nods. “The capture escaped again.”

  I get up from my knees, shouting, “What? I thought I told you to replace the cameras!”

  “We didn’t have time. She burst past the guards,” the elder says, sighing. “And … she wounded an elder’s wife.”

  I frown. Clearly, I’ve underestimated her. “Is the elder’s wife okay?”

  “They’re still working on her in the infirmary.”

  “Good … keep me updated,” I say, and I take a deep breath.

  I will truly have my hands full with this girl.

  “What about the girl? Is she subdued?”

  He nods again. “Back in the cell. So what now?”

  I stare at him. Has he lost it? I just told him what to do.

  “Then fix the cameras like I told you,” I say.

  His lips part, but no words come out. Then he nods again, and says, “Of course, Patriarch. I will send
a helper to do it.”

  “And put better guards on her hut. I don’t want her escaping again,” I say.

  “Of course,” he says.

  “That is all,” I reply, and he gets the message and leaves.

  I don’t want to know how they fail to secure my captured. I only want to know how and when she finally submits.

  But it appears I can’t leave it to them.

  Time to take matters into my own hands.

  Natalie

  I can clearly hear the girl crawl around the room, but I don’t know what she’s doing or where she thinks she’s going. Maybe she’s losing her mind just as I am. Or maybe she’s ready to give in to them.

  I’m sitting here in a corner, trying not to think about my bloodied hands and how much I’d love a shower right now. My mind can’t stop going back to that moment when I stabbed that lady with the sharp camera piece, and I can’t stop wondering if I killed her.

  If I’m now a murderer.

  A shiver runs along my spine.

  Suddenly, the door creaks open, and I look up. The light creeps in, and I block my eyes to prevent it from blinding me again. A guard steps in and disappears into the same darkness that’s surrounded us for days.

  Where is he? Is he coming to get me?

  I brace myself against the walls, prepared to fight him off.

  A squeal emanates from the left side of the room. It isn’t mine.

  “You’re coming with me,” the guard growls.

  “No, let go of me!” the girl says.

  “Wait!” I yell. “No, wait, don’t take her!” I beg, feeling my way along the wall to try to find them.

  Right then, the guard appears in the door opening, with the girl held down on his shoulder. She struggles but is no match for his strength as he carries her outside.

  I run toward them, yelling, “Take me instead!”

  But the door is slammed shut right in front of me.

  I slam it with both hands. “No … not her. She didn’t do anything.”

  I punch it a few more times, but it’s no use. I have no way of getting out, no more weapons to use, nothing to pick the locks with. I’m here in the darkness, all alone once again … and it kills me.

  The thought of having to spend more time in this cell without any companion is like death itself. With her, I had at least someone to share my pain and fears with. Now I have nothing but my own thoughts. Nothing but myself to keep me company … To drive me insane.

  I crawl back into my trusted little corner and curl my arms around my knees.

  Suddenly, the door opens again, catching me off guard. The light casts a silhouette around a man’s body as though he’s an angel come to rescue me.

  He steps into my cell without hesitation, and I inch back until my body is right up against the wall, and I can’t go any farther. Even though the darkness makes it impossible to see, I know he’s right in front of me. His cologne penetrates my nostrils, and his breath is on my skin.

  I shudder, my lips quaking as he touches my cheeks.

  I’m expecting punishment for hurting the woman, for breaking the camera, for not being compliant.

  Instead, I’m caressed so gently that it breaks me into tiny little pieces.

  Tears stream down my face as the man pets me softly. After all these hours spent here, I almost forgot what human touch felt like. My head instinctively leans into his hand, desperate for more, even though deep down, I know this isn’t right.

  He is one of them.

  But right now, his kindness is the only thing I have, and I crave it so desperately.

  And when his hand leaves my skin, I’m left with a wantonness I’ve never felt before and can’t explain, not even to myself.

  With a dark, soothing voice, he says, “Put on the clothes … and you will be free.”

  The sound of his breath becomes ever more distant, and it lures me forward to the middle of the cell. And as he stands in the door opening, with his back turned against me, I pick up the clothes … and I put them on.

  A white dress covers my entire body along with a long, white shawl that goes on top of my head.

  An outfit worn by the woman who tormented me.

  Now … I am one of them.

  The man glances over his shoulder, a final smirk resting on his lips, before he says, “Wait here.”

  I hold my breath as the door closes once more.

  But the darkness no longer contains me, no longer keeps me from seeing. Because my mind is overflowing with images of a man so gentle, so beautiful, that it numbed every speck of pain in my body and heart and replaced it with a warmth I’ve never known.

  With a simple touch, he’s subdued me.

  Made me … his.

  Chapter 5

  Natalie

  When the door cracks open, I’m prepared.

  I no longer block my eyes. I’m not afraid of the light or the chance that it’ll blind me. I fear nothing except what lies behind me, the darkness I’ve been forced to endure. The light isn’t here to hurt me; it’s an invitation into their world.

  When they come to get me, I stand proud and hold out my hand.

  A new woman enters my cell. She looks much younger than the one who came before, but she has that same stern look on her face that could scare anyone into submission.

  She comes toward me, and without any change in the emotion displayed on her face, she grabs my hand and pulls me outside. The moment my feet meet the grass again, I take a deep breath, soaking in the oxygen, the freedom.

  The door of the cell I was in closes behind me. Two menacing guards standing beside it, almost as if to warn me not to try anything or they will throw me back in there. I gulp, and the woman lets go of my hand.

  “Hello, dear. My name is Gertrude. Follow me,” she says.

  I don’t know why I do what she says, but I do it anyway.

  Is it the need to know what’s ahead? Or the fear of what will happen if I don’t comply?

  I’m not sure. My emotions are a jumbled mess right now, and not even I can get through this tangled web of feelings bogged up inside my heart.

  My mind is too occupied right now to even remotely consider the implications of me complacently walking along with her. It’s the first time since I came here that I’ve had a good look around. There are wooden houses everywhere; some so small they could fit maybe three people max and others so large they could house up to ten people. There are pebble stone paths throughout the grounds to connect each house to one another, with a few larger concrete buildings in between.

  Around the houses, children play happily with dolls and wooden cars, and other home-made toys. Some men chop wood in sync or herd a bunch of sheep along the road while others converse around an open fire while having a drink. Women are tending to young babies hanging at their breasts while they fold laundry, others are sweeping the pebble path, or are washing up clothes, filling kegs with water, and there’s even one cooking a pot over an open fire in the outdoors.

  None of them seems aware of my presence, of me watching their every move. It’s as if they’re blissfully unaware of the difference in their lives and my perception of it.

  Because it’s as if I’ve been transported back in time about three hundred years or more.

  Everywhere I look are old instruments, such as washing bins with the metal to scrub the clothes, bars of soap instead of chemicals, no electrical sockets or wires anywhere, or any modern clothes on any of the women and children. In fact, I can’t find a single modern-day device. No phone, no tablet, no laptop. Nothing.

  Do these people live in the Middle Ages?

  “Come,” Gertrude says.

  I stare at her with my mouth opened, momentarily frozen to the ground, shook by everything I see around me. She taps my arm, pulling me out of the haze.

  “I won’t say it again,” she says.

  I nod and follow her toward one of the larger huts in the middle of the grounds.

  Is this going to be my next pris
on?

  As we walk closer, people around us are starting to notice me. They stop doing their work and stare with narrowed eyes and furled brows as though I’m a stranger invading their land.

  I wrap my arms around my waist while following Gertrude, but they still look at me as if I smell bad or like I’m less than.

  I don’t like this feeling even though, in my mind, I know it shouldn’t bother me.

  None of this should … except me being here.

  I should run.

  I should fight.

  But they’d stop me if I tried. I can tell from their bold gazes and the way they clutch their tools. They mean business, and I’d better not try to disturb the status quo … whatever it is.

  What in the world did I get caught up in?

  Who are these people, and what do they want with me?

  A part of me wants to scream and shout, to tell them to back off and ask what is wrong with them. Why they dared to take me as a prisoner. But another part of me knows that if I do this, I will be punished. And I don’t want to be in that cell anymore, in that darkness, naked, with nothing to do or see.

  No matter how evil it is … I prefer this over what I had.

  No one could convince me to give in, to submit … but that man could. With a single touch, he managed to persuade me to put on the clothes that I’d been resisting since my arrival. They formed the link between my prison and the outside world, freedom.

  And now I’m wearing them … and they cling to my skin like a chain wrapped around my body. It’s only a different kind of prison after all.

  “In here,” Gertrude says, glancing at me over her shoulder before opening the door to the hut. She points inside and waits beside the door. I swallow away the lump in my throat and step forward.

  Inside, there are bunk beds to the side, a table with four chairs in the middle, and to the right is a small counter with a sink and a basket next to it, while long lights hang from the ceiling, illuminating the place.

  Is this a house?

  “This is your hut. You’ll be staying here along with the others.”

  “Others?” I mutter as I turn around, but the door is closed on me before I receive an answer. The sound of the lock being turned makes my stomach churn.