Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
“Did she tell you—” Carter starts again and my fist slams against the table. The spoon rattles against the porcelain bowl and Daniel leans back. Braelynn’s nails dig into my skin as she struggles to hide under the blanket, making herself even smaller than she already is.
“Leave it, Carter,” I tell him, my jaw tense, my fist still at the ready.
Daniel stands slowly and with a grip on Jase’s elbow, ushers him out.
“We should go,” he says loud enough for Carter to hear. His gaze drops from me down to a petrified Braelynn.
I ignore him. He’s done far worse than I. If I want her, I will keep her. That is something a man like him should easily understand. It doesn’t explain the flurry of agony and loathing that consume me in this moment when I look down and she stares back at him in fear, rather than listening to me.
Just as the thought enters my mind that I don’t owe them a fucking explanation, I know I do. I know she’s a threat to us all.
“Eat,” I command her and she buries her head in the crook of my neck.
I position her how I’d like her, needing her to fucking listen. She needs warmth. With both hands on her hips, not giving a fuck about the blanket, I force her to sit forward. “You will eat, Braelynn,” I seethe. The words are spoken from between gritted teeth and with her eyes shut tight, a gasp of a sob leaving her, she reaches for the spoon with shaking hands but she can’t grasp it.
I hate them. I hate them all. I hate my fucking life and who I am.
Carter is to my left, still standing in the same place he was when I entered. There wasn’t a single attempt from him to help. He says, “Declan, you need—”
Fuck him.
“She’s mine!” Lowering my voice and swallowing the lump in my throat, I bring my gaze level with his and tell him, “I will do with her as I see fit.”
My tone and words are careful, the threat they contain thinly veiled.
He stares me down for a fraction of a second before finally joining my other brothers to leave. The tension in my shoulders keeps them stiff, until I can no longer hear their footsteps.
I’m left only with a deep wound that’s unfamiliar but aches, and a broken Braelynn who doesn’t dare look me in the eyes as she cries in my arms.
“Eat,” I say, and the single word is softer than before. Gentle and kind, and I hope she hears the remorse I feel. I take the bowl into my own hands and lift a spoonful of the soup to my mouth to blow on it, and to test the temperature before bringing it to her lips.
She’s still shivering slightly, but when the first bite is swallowed, her eyes close with a comforting murmur. It’s slight, but with tearstained cheeks and color barely suffusing her lips, I’ll take the small sign of life from her as a blessing.
The spoon clinks as I dip into the bowl for more warm broth for her.
Whispering gently for her to open her mouth, she obeys and then readjusts in my lap, pulling the blanket tighter around her.
“You’re going to eat it all, my little pet. And then I’ll decide what to do with you.”
BRAELYNN
Both the fear and the chill still have a grip on me even an hour after slowly eating soup with Declan warming me. He hasn’t let go of me, and I haven’t let go of him either but I know it’s coming soon. I can’t hold on to him forever.
Even though he’s taken me through his home, from the vast kitchen and through the den to what he said was his wing and safe, to his bedroom, I barely saw a thing. The terror is blinding and I don’t know how I made it out of there alive. I don’t know what happened but I would do anything to never go back.
The only image replaying in my head over and over is of the iron cage being lifted and lowered repeatedly into the ice water. I can’t breathe, I can’t think. All I can do is cling to him even if I can’t look him in the eyes.
Did he send me there? Did he know what they were going to do? The questions are so easily answered. I know he did. The knowledge is paralyzing.
“Let go, Braelynn,” Declan commands as he lowers me down onto his bed. Still wrapped in the damp blanket, I hold on to it until he tells me otherwise.
“Get under the covers.” His tone is subdued, as if he hates this. As if he regrets taking me out of there. He killed him, didn’t he? The muffled gunshot comes back to me in a flash. The man who was questioning me—Declan killed him. I know he did. But there were other men present too.