“Open them.”
It’s not a request. It’s a fucking demand.
The men waiting on either side look to us for confirmation, and Rafe nods.
She doesn’t wait for us. She walks straight through with her head held high, the chains forcing her to limit her steps to a shuffle rather than a strut.
It doesn’t matter. Even through the filth, she still holds herself like a damn queen. Rafe and I watch her like fools, belatedly jumping to catch up with her once she’s through.
But the crowds have disappeared. Silas appears next to me, his eyes on Stasi. “We spread word that she was coming out of another entrance. But we don’t have long.”
She doesn’t give a sign that she’s heard us. She just keeps walking, heading straight towards the black car that sits at the end of the barriers, engine idling.
“Ours, I presume?”
Her voice is tight, and Rafe moves forward to open the door. He bows, mockingly. “After you.”
She can’t lift her feet enough to climb in, hampered by her chains. Silas slaps his arm against my chest when I go to help in a silent order.
Wait.
The seconds tick on as we watch her struggle. She tries to lift one ankle, then the other, testing the give. There isn’t any. Even her wrists are tied.
When Rafe snorts, she loses her temper. “Will we stand here all day, or do you plan on actually helping?”
Silas straightens. “That depends on how nicely you ask us.”
She turns, her voice icy. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He saunters up to her. “We own you now, Anastasia. Twenty years. And you will need to speak to us accordingly. Very,verynicely.”
I can almost see the glint of hellfire in her eyes. “Fine. Help me, please.”
Silas leans in, and his teeth flash. “I think you mean ‘help me, please,Sir.’”
Her head jerks back. “Likefuckam I calling you Sir, Silas.”
“Language,” Silas murmurs. “I see we have a lot of work to do, Anastasia. But we’re not going anywhere until you prove you can obey directions.”
There’s a shout from behind us. Stasi’s eyes flicker.
“And the crowd is heading this way,” Silas says, his tone bored. “So, what will it be?”
“Fine,” she grits out. “Help me. Please.Sir.”
“There,” he says coldly. “Was that so hard?”
He lifts her in before she can respond, but we all catch the hissed curse that echoes out. Silas turns back to us, raising an eyebrow at the looks on our faces. “What?”
Shaking my head, I push past him and climb inside, settling next to a silently seething Anastasia. Rafe slides in from the other side, Silas getting into the driver’s seat.
The door closes, and it feels like I can breathe for the first time in days.
Or maybe for the first time in ten years.
Because she’s finally here.
And she’s ours.
