Athena’s POV
Seraphine’s eyes flicked down and locked onto my right wrist, where the shackle hung loose, dangling uselessly from the chain.
Her face twisted with rage, lips curling back like she’d bitten something sour.
“You little bitch,‘ she hissed, stepping closer, her voice low and venomous, ‘you think you can get away?”
Her head snapped toward the shadows behind her. “Daxon!” she screamed, her voice bouncing off the damp concrete walls, sharp and piercing in the stale air. ‘She’s loose!*
I didn’t wait for him to show up. My body moved before my brain could catch up, instinct kicking in despite the pain radiating from my broken wrist.
When Seraphine lunged, her knife flashing in the dim light, I caught her with my free arm and yanked her forward, trapping her head against my shoulder.
Pain exploded up my arm, my broken wrist screaming in protest, but I held on, locking my forearm under her chin, pinning her throat against the crook of my shoulder. Every muscle in my body trembled, the effort making my legs shake and my vision blur.
Seraphine thrashed, her nails clawing at my arm, trying to bring the knife up to my face. I shoved harder, gritting my teeth as sweat dripped down my temples and blood from my split knuckles ran down my skin.
‘Let me go!” she snarled, her voice ragged with fury, her body twisting like a trapped animal.
“Not a chance,” I spat through clenched teeth, my voice barely above a whisper because speaking took too much energy.
She slammed her knee into my ribs, once, twice, each hit sending a jolt of pain through my side until my vision flashed white.
I gasped but didn’t let go, tightening my grip even as my broken wrist throbbed like it was being crushed all over again. She raised her fist and brought it down hard on my broken wrist.
A scream tore from my throat, raw and unstoppable, as hot agony shot through me, my grip collapsing like my arm had turned to fire.
Seraphine ripped free and stumbled back, gasping for breath, her face twisting into something almost demonic. “You think you’re strong?” she screeched, her
voice high and unhinged, eyes wild with hate.
Before I could answer, her hand lashed out.
SLAP!
My head snapped to the side, the sting burning across my cheek.
SLAP!
The second hit made my ears ring, tears springing to my eyes.
SLAP!
The third sent my vision spinning, the room tilting.
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Chapter 170
SLAP!
The fourth made my knees buckle, but I caught myself against the wall.
SLAP!
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The fifth left my face numb, my lip splitting open, blood trickling down my chin.
She wasn’t done. Her fist drove into my jaw, the impact rattling my skull, and I tasted more blood, coppery and warm, as it pooled in my mouth.
‘That’s for taking Tristan from me,‘ she spat, her chest heaving, her eyes blazing with a hatred so raw it made my stomach twist.
I glared up at her through the blur of blood and tears, my voice hoarse but steady. “You’re pathetic.”
Her lips curled into a snarl, but instead of answering, she turned and stormed up the stairs, her footsteps echoing as she called out again, “Daxon! She’s trying to escape!”
I slumped against the wall, my broken hand cradled against my chest, my heart pounding so hard, it felt like it might break my ribs.
The wolfsbane in my system made my head swim, my vision darkening at the edges, but I forced myself to stay conscious, to keep breathing.
I had to stay sharp, had to figure out what to do next. The loose shackle on my right wrist was a small victory, but my left hand was still chained, and Seraphine’s screams would bring Daxon down here any second.
I needed a plan, but my mind was foggy, the pain and the drugs making it hard to think straight.
The air in the basement shifted, growing heavier, like the room itself was holding its breath. Then I heard it, slow, deliberate footsteps on the stairs, each
one thudding like a hammer against my nerves.
My stomach twisted with dread as he appeared in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space, the dim light glinting off his cold, gray eyes. Daxon.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice low and sharp, like ice sliding over stone, a cruel amusement curling at the edges, looks like the little mouse has been busy.”
I pressed myself against the wall, my broken hand still tucked against my chest, trying to hide the loose shackle even though there was nothing to hide.
“Stay away from me,” I said, my voice shaking but firm, even though I had nowhere to run, no way to fight him off with one hand chained and the other
useless.
He descended the last step, his boots hitting the concrete with a dull thud. “Keep quiet,” he ordered, his voice dropping lower, darker, like a warning I was
too stubborn to heed.
‘No,” I said, forcing the word out despite the fear clawing at my chest, “I’m done staying quiet.”
He was on me in an instant, his palm cracking across my face so hard I saw stars. The pain exploded across my cheek, my head snapping to the side, but
before I could recover, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back until my neck strained painfully.
I gasped, my scalp burning where his fingers twisted, pulling so hard I thought he’d rip my hair out.
‘You dare talk back to me? Seems like you’ve lost the fear and respect you once had. His voice was a growl, each word vibrating with fury, his face so close 1 could feel his breath on my skin.
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Chapter 170
I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, my body frozen as pain shot down my spine. “This is where you belong.” he snarled, his eyes boring into mine, cold and unyielding, on your knees, bleeding, broken. You’ve always been nothing but trash, and trash should be treated like trash.”
Hot tears stung my eyes, but I refused to look away, refused to let him see me break.
I know he wanted to see that weak Athena, but that’ll be the last thing he’ll see. Even though it meant me losing my life, I didn’t care no more.
“You can break my body, Daxon,” I rasped, my voice barely audible, “but you will never own me.”
His grip tightened, pulling my head back further until I thought my neck might snap, but then he smiled–a dark, cruel smile that sent a chill through my
bloodied skin.
“Oh, I will,” he whispered, dragging his thumb across my cheek, smearing the blood there, the touch making my skin crawl. “When I’m done with you,
Athena, you’ll beg me to keep you here.”
He let go, shoving me back so hard I slammed into the wall, my knees buckling under me. I caught myself just before I fell, my chest heaving, my heart
pounding so loud I thought it might burst.
Pain throbbed in every part of my body–my wrist, my face, my ribs–but I was still standing, still fighting, even if I didn’t know how much longer I could
hold on.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
