Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
By the time we pull away from each other, my body is wrung tight, desire and need clinging to my bones.
“Beautiful, Ely. You're so damn beautiful,” Sebastian murmurs as he strokes my cheek. “Are you ready to get out now?”
I nod, my body relaxed, my muscles liquid. How did we get here? I’m almost afraid that I’ll wake up at any second and realize this is a dream.
He helps me into a sitting position and then lifts me out of the water, placing me on my feet. It takes a moment for me to get my legs to work, and I catch myself against his chest.
“Sorry. I think I forgot how to use my legs.” I laugh.
He uses one hand to steady me and grabs a towel off the counter with the other. He wraps me up in the fluffy towel, securing me like a burrito, and then we’re moving.
“Hey, I can walk. I got my legs to work,” I announce.
All he does is grunt as he carries me into the bedroom and lays me out on the huge bed.
He disappears from view, and that’s when the thoughts pop into my head. The debt I owe him, Tanya, our future together. Is there even a future for us? He reappears holding two bottles of water, and I find I’m even more consumed by the thoughts.
“What about the debt? I don’t think I can work as a maid for you anymore.” I think a moment longer on it. “I could always get a job and pay you that way.”
“Stop, Elyse. You’re thinking too much into it. Fuck the debt. I don’t care about the money.”
Climbing up onto the bed, and he twists the cap off one of the bottles. Bringing it to my lips, he orders me with his eyes to drink.
“You act like I’m incapable of caring for myself.”
“No. I act like I let you care for yourself long enough. Now it’s my turn to care for you, so please let me and take a drink.”
I do as he says, keeping my eyes trained on his face. I believe him, believe his words, but there’s still that trickle of doubt. It all seems too good to be true, so all I can do is lie here, waiting, watching, and counting the seconds until he changes his mind and throws me out the door. After I’ve drunk enough water to satisfy Sebastian, I unwrap myself from the towel and use it to dry my long hair.
He settles against the pillows, and I follow suit, letting any awkwardness I might have fade. Resting my head against the pillow, I bury my nose into it, inhaling his scent.
Sea-salt and spice.
It calms me, and when I lift my head to resituate it I realize just how tired I am. My head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds.
Sebastian tugs me into his chest, and I snuggle against him, letting the warmth of his body encompass me in a cocoon. In his arms nothing can hurt me. Not my father. Yavon. Tanya. No one can touch me.
I’m overwhelmed with emotion, even as sleep lingers at the fringes of my mind.
“This feels like a dream…” I whisper.
His gentle laugh vibrates through me, “No, Little Prey. This is very much not a dream.”
“Hmmm, it might be.” I smile, while struggling to keep my eyes open.
“It’s not. It’s real. You’re real. What happened is real.”
“In that case…” I blink my eyes open, but they fall closed just as fast, the exhaustion finally overpowering me.
“What was that?” Sebastian hums, his fingers stroking my skin.
“I think…I…I love you.” I give up my fight to stay awake and let my eyes fall closed at the confession. There is no response, and fog fills the spaces in my mind, dragging me down into the dark depths of sleep.
Right before I succumb I swear I hear Sebastian whisper, “You’re more than I deserve, Elyse. I just hope when the truth is revealed you still feel that way.”
37
Elyse
It's dark. There's an overhead light shining down on me, but not fully as a person towers over me, blocking out part of the light. No, this is different. This nightmare is different. I don't see the tattooed hands, or hear Yanov cursing. My entire body aches, pain radiating throughout my limbs. I strain to hear something, anything, but it's quiet except for the soft whisper of a fire crackling nearby. Even if I can’t feel the heat of it, I hear it.
I try to squint, to make my eyes work so I can at least make out the features of the person towering over my body, but there’s no point. The light is too bright, and I'm barely holding on as it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if that very light was me passing into an alternate dimension. Death clings to me. All I can do is brace for the fists that will inevitably come.