Captive Souls Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement1

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I stared at the plate of meat. Charred and steaming and vaguely sickening.

There was a hunk of bread beside it, and that was it.

I looked from Knox to the meat, but he was already eating, obviously not standing on ceremony. I was surprised he was even sitting at the table with me. It implied some kind of civility that didn’t exist between us.

Instead of speaking, I took a piece of bread and nibbled on the edges. Yes, I was still starving, almost deliriously so, but the smell of the meat was putting me off.

No, that wasn’t it. I’d been a vegetarian for my entire adult life, and I’d never been sickened by people eating meat in front of me. I didn’t have a holier-than-thou attitude about it either. If someone wanted to eat meat, I was fine with that. I didn’t make my preference their problem.

So no, it wasn’t the meat.

It was the predator sitting there, eating it. Blood dribbled from the middle of the steak as he speared it with his fork before putting it to his mouth.

He chewed with his mouth shut, used a knife and fork and had good table manners. Except for the fact that he was blatantly ignoring me, as he had since I walked in the door with the wood.

That should’ve made me thankful. Being out of this man’s line of vision or attention was good for me, it was the only way I was going to survive.

Wasn’t it?

What was the path to my survival? Yes, if I survived this cabin it would be great, but it would only be to pass me over to another death sentence. I’d die before being forced to marry Stone. I couldn’t run without Daisy being hurt or killed.

The scant amount of bread in my mouth turned to dust.

I’d been so lost in my thoughts, everything around me had grown blurry. Even him, except now he was cut from sharp lines against everything else around him. My body felt like lead as his attention zeroed in on me. Then on the forgotten piece of bread in my hand.

“You’re not eating.”

I restrained a shiver over the sound of his voice in the quiet room. It was a cleaver cutting through everything.

Keeping my cool in front of him was paramount. I couldn’t show my discomfort. Therefore, I looked up and held his electric, cruel gaze.

“I don’t eat meat,” I informed him.

His expression didn’t change. He didn’t stop eating either, chewing slowly as we continued to stare at each other.

“You do now,” was what he said once he swallowed.

The iciness of his tone was no match for the fire I felt inside at his words.

“I get that you’re under the impression that you have complete control over me since you took me against my will and have marooned me here in a cabin with you.” My fists clenched under the table, my voice steel. “And you may have control over those things, but you do not have complete control. I will not submit to your every will and whim. I may be your captive, but I am not your puppet.”

I considered myself an assertive person … in more of a passive way. I’d never really rocked the boat with friends, lovers, bosses. I shied away from conflict as a survival instinct since I knew what happened when life turned ugly. If there was any situation where I should’ve shied away from conflict, it was in that cabin in the middle of nowhere with a monster, yet I didn’t. I held on to what little was left of my agency, and I refused to let it go.

Though I was proud of my little speech, how strong and unyielding I’d sounded, Knox didn’t seem the slightest bit impressed. Or even mad.

Though the contours of his face stayed the same, I could’ve sworn he seemed … amused.

That only served to stoke the fire of my fury further.

But before I could do or say anything more, his utensils were on his plate, his chair was out from under the table, and the scrape of wood against the floor entered my ears.

I was moving.

Caged in by him. His hands were on either side of my chair, his thumbs almost brushing my thighs. His body surrounded me, his heady, masculine scent, face inches from mine.

My entire body tensed, and my head throbbed with terror.

He’d never stopped being dangerous or deadly. Even when doing something as benign as eating. I’d figured he’d stop being deadly when his heart ceased beating. But part of me had gotten used to it. Or gotten used to the undercurrent of fear I felt in his presence.

But his entire energy had changed. This was not a passive undercurrent of fear he was eliciting. It was heart-stopping terror as his eyes held mine hostage.

Luckily, I had just emptied my bladder because if I hadn’t, I might’ve wet myself.


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