He blinks sluggishly, trying to orient himself.
“Sera?” His voice is raw, hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
“I’m here,” I breathe, pressing my forehead to his. “I’m right here.”
His breath shudders against my skin, and for the first time since waking, I feel strength return to me. The terror doesn’t leave—it never will while we’re in this place—but it quiets beneath the sound of his voice.
Because if Trey is alive, there’s hope. A reason to breathe. A reason to fight.
I’ll burn this entire place to the ground before I let Gideon take him from me. Even if it kills me.
Chapter forty-one
Trey
When It’s Cold I’d Like To Die – Moby
Her voice cuts through the dark, soft and trembling, wrapping around my name like it’s the only thing keeping her together.
Should have set up a safe word.
Papaya. Papaya. Papaya.
“Sera…”
My throat feels shredded. Every breath burns, dragging through broken ribs, but I force my head up anyway. The room tilts, spinning in shades of grey and red, until she comes into focus—hair loose, eyes wild with fear and fury.
She can only be an angel before me.
“Baby,” I rasp, voice cracked and raw. “Have they touched you? Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head fast, too fast, eyes darting to the shadows behind her where soft chanting rises and falls like waves.
“No,” she says. “I’m fine.”
The relief hits hard enough to make me dizzy. I drag in a breath and instantly regret it—the pain sharp, white-hot, spreading through my chest.
Sera hands roam my body trying to access the damage. I take in what she’s wearing, my blood heating my cold body with rage.
A white gown clings to her body, fabric sheer whispering against her skin.
“What’s happening, why are you…why are you dressed like that?”
Her eyes glisten in the weak light. She glances over her shoulder at the women behind her, still praying.
“Gideon’s chosen,” she says, her voice breaking. “They dressed me. For my nuptials.”
For a second, I think I misheard her. Then it sinks in.
The wordnuptialsturn everything in me to fire.
Motherfuckers. I’ll kill them all.
The chains clatter as I lunge forward, the steel biting into my wrists.
“We’re married,” I snarl, every word a growl pulled from my gut. “He can get fucked.”
She flinches at my tone but doesn’t move away. Her eyes soften instead, shining in the dim light.
