I hissed in pain, my stomach clenching violently as he leered. His body crushed against my side, then he wrapped a leg around mine, so he was half beside me, half on top of me. By the Gods, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe. Fuck! This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. Not to me. Not like this.
Not with Rhyan.
He lifted himself up onto his elbow, and hovered over me, making it plain just how much larger he was—how much more powerful. He’d always been bigger than me. Taller. Stronger. Atleast, until my power arrived. But I hadn’t always noticed the height difference really, or the weight—because I’d always felt so safe with him, so comfortable. He’d always been so gentle with me, so careful. Never once using his body against me. Now the power it exuded, the strength rippling through every distorted, elongated part of his akadim form was terrifying.
I shuddered, and tried to slide away from him. I nearly rolled off the bed.
“No,” he said, his hand wrapping around my neck. He pulled me closer, sliding me back to him. Staring down at me, his claws digging into my hair, he started to squeeze. And I coughed, choking, his grip roughened, tightening and I kicked helplessly against the stone strength of his leg over mine.
“Rhy—” I choked.
He released his hold, looking unbothered by the tears in my eyes, and slid his hand up the length of my neck to the underside of my chin. His fingers used to be callused at the tips and blunt, his fingernails always trimmed. But now, all I could feel were the sharpened edges of the claw that spiked from his fingers. Trembling, I tried to look away, but he grabbed my jaw and forced my gaze to meet his. Forced me to stare into their red glow, into the light which was devoid of humanity. Of life. The rest of his body pressed into mine.
“Rhyan, please. Please, don’t do this.”
“You never answered my question before,” he drawled.
“Y-Your question?” I asked. My entire body was shaking. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t even remember what he’d asked me. Or anything he’d said. Just that I was here, his prisoner. Bound, and weaponless beneath him. And he had my shard. He had the light of the Valalumir—his cure, and I couldn’t touch it, couldn’t wield it.
The torch flickered and hissed, darkening as smoke undulated. And beyond our alcove more akadim moved about,growling low. They were arguing, and whatever they were fighting about, it was getting louder. More intense. There was a slapping sound, and then another, followed by a roar.
Rhyan squeezed my face, forcing my attention back to him. “What were you dreaming about?” he asked.
“D-Dreaming?” My heart thudded.
“Mmmmhmmmm.” His nostrils flared. “I could sense it. The quickening of your pulse, the stirring in your breath.” He squeezed my chin harder, forcing my lips to squish together. “Your heart pounding, your hips wiggling.” He smirked. “But most of all,” his tongue darted out, sliding against the tip of a fang. “I could scent it.” He paused, and took a pointedly, long, drawn out sniff.
I stiffened, my entire body tensing.
“You smelled sweet, and musky, and … wet. Makes me think that it was about me.” He leaned in, his lips just over mine, his breath metallic. Like blood. “Makes me think it was about fucking me.”
I gasped, and shook my head. “I … Rhyan.” Think. Think! He wanted to know, he wanted proof it was about him. Fine. But he needed to give me something in return.
“I-I can tell you,” I stammered. “But I need you to untie me first.”
He chuckled. “Untie you? Just to talk? It’s not like I sealed your mouth shut.” He released my chin and suddenly he’d pushed me back onto my side and gripped the ropes behind my back.
“What are you—?” I screamed.
He lifted me up by the ropes. My arms burned, and started to go numb as the rope tore into them. Something warm dripped down my hands. My wrists were being cut.
He watched me, literally dangling like a toy for him to play with. My entire body hung, suspended in the air, and slowly, Ibegan to turn as I kicked helplessly. He looked transfixed, and then without warning, he dropped me back onto the bed.
I landed with a wheezing feeling in my lungs before he pushed me onto my back again, and this time he crawled completely on top of me.
I shook my head. “Rhyan, please, please.”
“Untie you?” he asked again, his eyebrows lifted. Both of them. Something he hadn’t been able to do since his father had scarred his face. He tilted his head, his red eyes running down my body. “You mean these ropes?” He reached beneath me, his hand sliding up my ass, to my bound hands. The rope tugged violently beneath me as he brushed his nose against my neck, sniffing me. He smelled so metallic and sulfuric, like he was part of the cave. So unlike himself. But there was something else that made want to retch. A scent I could only describe as death. He dragged his rough, dry mouth against my skin until he reached my earlobe, wrapping it between his lips.
I closed my eyes, my body shaking. There was a sharp, painful piercing. Fuck. He bit me. I cried out. Warm blood rolled back into my hair, and slid down my neck.
“If you don’t like it,” he growled low under his breath, “Why don’t you just—tear those ropes apart?” He burst into laughter.
A tear rolled down my cheek.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “That was funny.”
I sniffled before I could help myself. Rhyan would have never said that to me. Never made fun of me. But Rhyan would have also never tied me up. He’d have been the one tearing the ropes apart, killing anyone who got in his way to reach me.
