Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
It’s as if Carter’s already killed him; he’s taken my only companion in this world away from me. And the anger in that realization grows by the second. Hardening my heart.
Maybe next year, when I visit my mother’s grave, Nikolai’s will be near.
The thought and visions of an old gravestone next to a newly carved one bring a new flood of tears.
That’s all I can do. To mourn them.
To mourn us all. And to cling to my hate for a man I’m growing to love.
A soft click causes my eyes to lift to the doorknob and I watch it slowly turn. Haphazardly wiping my eyes, I slowly rise to my feet, leaning against the wall as Carter opens the door. Steam that fills the room drifts to the open space and the hot air makes my heated face feel that much hotter.
Carter stops after one step in the room, staring at the empty shower for a moment before turning to me when I let out a heavy and broken breath. The look in his eyes showed true fear until it settled on me.
I saw fear in the eyes of a man who does nothing but revel in it.
Still, I feel like nothing beneath him as he stares down at me. “I thought you were in the shower.” His eyes roam my face, searching for something.
I try to swallow, but I can’t. Instead, I shake my head softly and pray for him to leave. I should have stayed in the hideaway room.
“I don’t like to see you like this.” Carter’s statement sounds genuine, but all I can give him in return is a sick and sarcastic huff of a laugh. It croaks from me and I can barely breathe in after. Reaching for the tissues by the sink, I turn my back to him. My shoulders are still shuddering with the mess of sorrow that weighs down on me.
His large hand settles down on my shoulder, carefully, gently, and he tries to pull me close to him. To hold me like he’s done before. With half a step forward, he attempts to hug me from behind, he even closes his eyes and lowers his lips to kiss my bare shoulder.
But I’m quick to turn, push him away and step out of his embrace. He can’t hold me and think it makes it all go away. Not anymore.
The tissue is balled in my fist as I push him again, shoving him away.
He doesn’t let me comfort him, so I won’t let him do the same to me. To use my pain against me. So, he can do as he pleases, regardless of the consequences they hold for me.
“No, you don’t get to touch me.” My words come out sharply with a fierceness I didn’t know I still had in me. Rage heats in his dark eyes as his expression hardens and he stills where he is, his jaw tense and his shoulders rigid.
“Tell me now that you don’t want to throw me back in my cell.” Again, emotion cracks my words. I stare back at him, waiting for a response. It’s difficult not to see the sorrow and fear in his gaze that he’s showed me before.
“The only place I want to throw you is on my bed to remind you of what I can give you.” He speaks quietly, in a deep tenor that sounds raw to my ears. “You still belong to me,” he reminds me.
My lips twitch up into a sad smile. Sad for him that he thinks he could possibly ever have me the way he wishes. It will never happen.
A flicker of anger, the cluck of his tongue, one step toward me, and Carter morphs back into the man I recognize from weeks ago. Cold and calculated.
But you can’t go back. He, of all people, should know better.
“Kneel,” he commands but I can hear the desperation in his voice. He may want to pretend but he knows can’t control me when I’m like this. I can barely control myself.
“Send me back to the cell.” My demand comes out strong and with defiance, no one could deny.
I’ll be better in the cell. Better there than the hideaway where I’m simply avoiding him. The cell leaves me no options. I need it. I need to get away from the man standing in front of me.
If Carter touches me, I’ll cave. I know I will. I’ll forget the pain and the anger. I’ll forget to mourn. There will be nothing of me left but what he wants there to be.
I’m weak for him. “I need to be away from you,” I whisper with harsh anger on my tongue.
“No.” His denial of my request should only strengthen my resolve to disobey. But my limbs feel weak, and I so desperately need to be held. I want him to be the man to do it.