“Please,” I whispered to the water, to the walls, to whatever higher power might listen. “Please get me out of this.” My words were lost in the steam, a final plea from a spirit stretched so thin it felt like it would snap. A silent cry as I looked up to the ceiling, the spray hitting me in uneven bursts, cooling along with my hope.
That’s when the bathroom door crashed open, and the specter of my tormentor filled the space. Harrison, unyielding as the bond itself, stared at me with eyes that reflected nothing but a cruel satisfaction. The moment stretched, filled with a tension so thick I thought it might strangle me.
“Get up,” he said, a command wrapped in velvet and steel. The harshest whisper.
The sound of his voice sliced through me, cutting deeper than any lash, any blow. I scrambled to my feet, unsteady, trembling, wrapping a towel around myself as the final shreds of warmth slipped away. His eyes never left mine, pinning me in place, making it clear that escape was futile. That I was bound to him in every sense, and that resistance was nothing but a fantasy.
“Follow me,” he ordered, turning with the confidence of someone who knew they wouldn’t be refused.
I went. Dragged one foot in front of the other, my soul screaming against it, my body obeying the cruel reality that Harrison had locked me into. The walls closed in around us as I followed him, as the fear wrapped tighter and tighter until I couldbarely breathe. What did he have planned this time? How far would he go to break me? Did he even know, did he even care, that the further he pushed, the more desperately I longed for release from him? For release from everything? That this was as much torture as anything he could inflict?
Even as terror settled like lead in my stomach, I realized with growing dread where he was taking me. To the wall. The wall in my cell that held every implement of torment imaginable. Items rolled out on hydraulic arms, benches folded out of nowhere that held me down as he administered his brand of punishment and humiliation. It happened sometimes once a day, sometimes more often. The most frightening part? I found myself giving in to all of them. Hating and loving them in equal measure. If Bronc ever found me, he would surely cast me aside. I was broken. Unloveable. Could I survive it? Would I be Juliet at the end of this nightmare, or just another possession of Harrison Hastings?
The answer, the only answer, was to endure. To last. To hold on to the slimmest hope that Bronc was coming, even if it was foolish. Even if it was a lie, I told myself to stay sane. To stay alive. I clung to that lie with all I had, my knuckles white around the edges of the towel. No matter what, I wouldn’t let this break me.
Not yet. Not ever.
Harrison led me to the wall, a space designed for cruelty and submission, and I was drowning in the metallic scent of leather and the terrifying sight of the equipment it contained. My heart raced wildly, the sight filling me with a sense of dread that matched his gleeful eyes as he announced he had something special planned. His sadistic delight sent my fear crashing like tidal waves over my trembling body. What was he going to do? Would I survive it? As he approached with predator-like grace, my hope dwindled to a fragile thread. He touched the mate bite on my neck and whispered with breath hot in my ear, “You’re mine, Juliet. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
The dim light threw shadows across the room, and the chains and straps and darkly gleaming tools loomed over me, each one whispering of the torment they were made to inflict. I was trapped. Caught in this twisted den with no way out, each tool moved in closer as my heartbeat thundered in my ears. Harrison reveled in it, the predator who’d caught his prey, and there was nowhere to hide from the reality that he could do anything. That I was helpless. That every shred of safety I’d ever known was lost the moment he closed the door behind us.
He approached slowly, drinking in my terror like fine wine. It filled him. Made him bolder. My mind raced with all the terrible things he might do, all the pain and the darkness waiting. Panic bubbled up, a visceral thing clawing at my insides as his predatory grace closed the distance. What would be left of me after tonight?How could I possibly endure? He’d set the stage perfectly, and as the realization of it all crashed down on me, I felt myself begin to unravel.
He walked over and pulled the curtain back so his “observers” had a full view of what he was doing. It only added to my shame. I locked eyes with the dark-haired doctor. I saw something flicker there. Jealousy?
The air seemed to grow thicker with the scent of leather, and something darker, something primal that made my skin prickle and my breath hitch. Harrison’s hand clamped around my wrist like a vise, dragging me toward the wall where his tools of torment hung like twisted trophies. My heart hammered in my chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that matched the storm raging outside. But it wasn’t fear that made my pulse race—it was something far more fucked up. Something I didn’t want to admit.
“Oh no,” I whispered, my voice trembling as he pressed a button on the control panel. A long metal rod stretched out over my head. Two chains with leather cuffs on the ends were attached to eyebolts. He reached up and knocked them loose. The loudclangmade me jump. Calmly, he attached a cuff to each of my wrists. He pressed another button, and a metal platform slid from the bottom of the wall with two eyebolts attached to similar chains and cuffs. He tapped my ankles, so I stepped up. Within seconds, my legs were spread and cuffed to the platform that was flush with the floor. I then heard the sound of the wall’s hydraulics as my arms were lifted above my head. I stood completely stretched and exposed to him, front and back sides.
His claws were extended as he ran them around my middle, walking a complete circle around me. “We’re going to play extra hard tonight, Juliet,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’m going to hurt you tonight. And we’re going to talk.”
He grabbed a flexible cane from the wall, the polished wood gleaming in the dim light, and I swallowed hard, my breath coming in shallow gulps. The first strike landed with a sharp crack against my ass, and I cried out, my body jerking forward. The sting was instant, sharp and searing, followed by a rush of heat that spread through my veins like wildfire. My pussy clenched, wetness soaking my thighs as another strike came down, harder this time, leaving a red welt in its wake.
“That’s it,” he snarled, his voice dripping with malice and something else—something that made my knees weak. “Take it like the little whore you are.”
I moaned, the sound torn from my throat as he brought the cane down again and again, each strike a mix of agony and ecstasy. My ass was on fire, the pain a living, breathing thing that pulsed through me with every heartbeat. He stopped and ran a finger through my wetness, and I cried out.
“I had no idea you were such a pain slut, Juliet. I’ve learned so many things about you.” He crouched down and slid his tongue across my clit, causing me to jerk against my chains. “You’d like more of that wouldn’t you?” He stood, his breath across my lips. His fingers rammed inside me while his thumb circled, bringing me closer to release.
“Please,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my face as he abruptly pulled his fingers away.
A cruel smile split his monstrously handsome face. “I’m afraid you can’t come yet, Juliet. You see, I need some information from you first.”
I tried to still myself in the chains that bound me. “What do you want to know?” I asked.
I realized my mistake too late. In a flash, he had the cane in his hands.
The back of my thighs exploded in a flash of pain. Then he slapped my clit hard and painfully. “How are you to address me, Juliet? That’s five swats. I’ll give you ten next time.”
I was sobbing. “M-m-my lord! I’m sorry!”
He started rubbing my clit again. I was right to the point of orgasm, moaning, crying. And he stopped.
“Alright, now. I have a few questions my little cum slut.”
I could barely hold my head up to look at him. “Yes, my lord?”
“Better.” He gave an evil grin. “I need to know the name of your former Alpha. His name, and where he lives.”
