Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 170747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 683(@250wpm)___ 569(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 683(@250wpm)___ 569(@300wpm)
I approach my friend. Tears streak down my face and my heart pounds frantically in my chest. She’s going to die anyway. They’ll make it so much worse for her. My hand trembles as I lift the knife, pressing it to the skin of her throat. I don’t even know how to make this quick for her.
“One,” the master calls. “Two.” If he gets to three… With a ragged cry, I drag the blade over the side of her throat, watching as her neck opens like a tap. Blood rushes down her throat, coating her naked body. Ava’s body jerks for a few seconds before she slumps forward in her chains. I scream.
I’m torn from sleep by a loud bang as the bedroom door flies open. I squint against the bright light and find Lucas standing in the doorway looking at me. My chest heaves, and I swipe at the tears streaming down my face. The nightmare clings to me like a blanket of despair, one of the worst memories I have. I press my hand over my mouth to try and quiet the sobs leaving my lips.
“Anna,” he stammers awkwardly. “Are you okay?” All I can hear is my own ragged breaths as tension cuts through me. “That sounded worse than normal.”
Heavy footsteps come down the hall, and then all the air seems to get sucked from the room. “Leave!” Rafael.
The door clicks shut as Lucas leaves, and then Rafael is striding over to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight before he’s cupping my face, both thumbs wiping away my tears. “Anna.”
“I’m sorry,” I choke. I’m trying to pull myself together, but his soft touch makes me all the more vulnerable.
“I thought someone was trying to kill you.” He huffs a small laugh.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” God, I don’t want him to see this, and yet I crave the unyielding sense of security that I have when he’s near, as if nothing can touch me, not even my own memories.
“No one apologizes for having a nightmare, Anna.”
“Probably because no one you know has nightmares,” I mumble, absentmindedly twisting a piece of hair around my finger.
“I’d say that requires a conscience.”
“I’d say that you have one.” Does he? I’ve repeatedly told myself that he’s bad, but the more I learn about him, the harder it is to believe. Especially when he’s looking at me like he’d slay every demon I have if he could.
He snorts. “You’d be wrong.”
“And yet here you are. Coming to the aid of a sobbing whore.” My words are almost mocking because the irony is a bitter one.
His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with something volatile. “You are not a whore,” he growls.
I watch him for a moment as the muscle in his jaw ticks. “Why does it upset you?” I whisper, confusion riding me. He’s like a puzzle I cannot figure out.
“You are not a whore,” he repeats. I say nothing, waiting until the tension in his muscles dissipates. “You should sleep.”
“I was trying.”
“Are you getting smart with me?” He smirks.
“No.”
“Do you want some sleeping pills?”
I shake my head. “I stopped taking them.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to be helpless and caught unaware if anything happens.”
His warm palm cups my cheek. “No one can get in my house. No one will touch you.” But they did once. The last thing I want to be is helpless. “Lucas is right outside the door.” Lucas doesn’t make me feel safe though, not truly. “You don’t feel safe?”
I chew my bottom lip, staring into those dark, dangerous eyes that should not soothe me in any way. “I do now,” I whisper, like a shameful confession.
With a heavy sigh, he moves, getting on the bed next to me and leaning back against the pillows.
“What are—“
“Sleep, Anna. I’ll keep the monsters away.”
15
Rafael
I should leave, but I couldn’t if I tried. I’m angry. I’m angry at the fact that someone has put those nightmares in her head and that she feels the need to apologize for them. I’m pissed that those fuckers took her from my house and now she doesn’t feel safe here. I hate that she looks at me like I’m both the monster under the bed and her salvation. But most of all I’m angry that I’m here, that I can’t seem to stop myself from caring, that her pain cracks me wide open. She makes me want to bleed for her.
I glance down at her tucked against my side, her fingers clutching at my shirt as if I’ll disappear at any moment. Golden blonde hair sprawls over the pillow, and she looks so small, so damn breakable. The scent of her surrounds me—raspberry shampoo and a trace of night Jasmine.
I have no fucking idea what I’m doing anymore. She’s this perfect balance of pure innocence and the most depraved darkness, drawing me in. I want to both cure her of the taint on her soul and corrupt it so entirely that she’s just as blackened as I am. Yes, little Anna Vasiliev is unrivaled beauty marred by the scars of brutal war. She’s learned to survive in the dark, caged, her wings clipped. Now, I want to set her free.