Merciless Read Online Willow Winters (Merciless #1)

Categories Genre: Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Merciless Series by Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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“What aren’t you telling me?” My question comes out as a demand and that’s when the defiance returns and the girl I’m used to seeing returns.

Her dry lips part but after several moments, she never says a word. I stand up, pushing off the thin bed and making her sway with the dip in the mattress.

“I don’t like hearing you scream,” I confide in her and I’m met with silence.

I turn to look over my shoulder and see her soft eyes staring at me, brimming with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes to me and I find it hard to swallow as she turns her gaze from me to the blanket.

This is moving too slowly. Far too slowly. She’s close to breaking and for both our sakes, I have to push her. I will not let her move backward. We’re so close, and time never stops its ticking.

With that in mind, I reach down and take her blanket from her. She stares up at me like a scared child and I have to push out my words, although they come out with the control and power I always have. “You need to bathe. I don’t trust you. So you’ll have to trust me.”

Chapter 18

Aria

* * *

I’ve never wondered what a prisoner would feel like when led from chains to a feigned freedom. Like a courtyard or elsewhere. I wonder if they feel the same initial instinct to stay close to their warden, the way I do with Carter.

Or, maybe it’s because I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. Of fighting, of starving myself, of not sleeping. I’m not broken, but I am so fucking tired.

The rich mahogany furniture, high ceilings and carved molding accents move around me in a blur. Without shoes, my bare feet pad softly on the polished floors, and it’s all I can hear.

I’m not sure if I should peek up and take in my surroundings, but every time I do, Carter gently brushes my shoulder and I instinctively pick up my pace, focused on what’s to come. Still, I try to track everything, to pay attention to every doorway and window, every possible chance of escape.

My heart beats fiercely as he leads me to the right and I see a thin stream of light in the darkened hall from a room in the distance. The sounds of chatter and even laughter echo around me, although Carter pulls me in the opposite direction.

Adrenaline courses in my veins and my throat tightens.

There are other people here.

“Don’t be stupid, Aria,” Carter whispers in the shell of my ear, making my heart lurch and forcing me to jump back. I hadn’t realized my thoughts were so obvious.

“Come,” he orders me, offering me his hand. My own is small in his as he wraps his strong fingers around mine and leads me deeper down the darkened hall. All I can think about as he takes me closer to where he wants me, is that there were people here, all this time, and I have no idea if they heard my screams or what they would have done had I screamed just moments ago.

Carter unlocks a door, the clinking of metal keys accompanied by his rough voice as he says, “My brothers stay up late. They always have.”

His brothers. Jase. Who else? There isn’t enough curiosity in the world that could lead me to ask him. But deep in my soul, I’m crying for answers although I can already hear the hiss of the truth in the back of my skull.

There is no mercy here. Not from anyone.

The door opens with a muted creak and I only nod as he gestures for me to head inside. The small bit of hope fluttering in my chest is strangled. I can barely swallow, barely do anything but place one foot in front of the other through a large bedroom, until I hear the flick of a light switch.

The dim light flows across the black and white marble tile. Carter doesn’t wait for me to enter before turning on the bath at the far side of the room. I’m struck by the sheer size of the bathroom. Even coming from wealth myself, I’m taken aback.

“It’s beautiful,” I speak softly. Although how I’m able to speak, I don’t know.

The feel of the cold tile under my feet has never been so welcome.

The sight of the plush towel folded neatly on the counter makes me itch to touch like nothing else ever has.

The sound of a running bath has never felt so soothing. And yet, I’m so aware that I’m only a prisoner in a gilded cage, and this moment outside of the cell may be my only chance of escape.

My body is tired from not eating much and having terrors wake me every time I sleep. But I still feel the need to fight.


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