With every breath, a surge of adrenaline courses through my veins, heightening my senses and sharpening my focus—which isn’t always a good thing, as that’s when fears can manifest. Forcing myself to remain calm and collected, I mask my face, willing my cool, harsh exterior to show and my heart to remain at a steady pace.
Abchanchu casually strolls into the cavern, dropping a load of wood next to the makeshift firepit with a loud thud. Then, without sparing a glance my way, he walks over to the spot where the water runs through, squats down, and washes his hands.
The way he’s completely ignoring me makes my heart race with unease, and I despise the feeling. My fingers curl into my palms, nails digging into the flesh as I fight the urge to lash out. This silent treatment bullshit is going to drive me over the edge. Tension coils inside me like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.
A low growl rumbles up my throat, bubbling to the surface before I can stop it. The sound is primal, raw, and it slices through the air like a warning. Abchanchu halts abruptly, his movements sharp as he turns his head to glance over his shoulder. The mischievous grin that spreads across his lips only stokes the fire burning inside me, adding fuel to the rage. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the fact that he’s enjoying it makes my blood boil even more.
“Pet?”
I press my lips together as the pressure builds in my chest, then glare at him. Rising to his full height, he strides over to me, and I meet his gaze with a defiant lift of my chin.
“You have my attention. Is there something you need?”
“For you to drop dead.” My voice is low and scratchy.
Abchanchu tips his head back and laughs. “Oh, pet. If that were to happen, you’d die here in this cave with no means to set yourself free. Only I can remove those chains.” His expression turns thoughtful as he stares down at the shackles.
“What’s it like not having your magic?” he asks.
I bare my teeth at him but refused to answer.
Stooping down, he snatches the chain that binds my wrists and forcefully jerks me to my feet, lifting my arms painfully above my head. I use the momentum to try to knock him off balance, but he’s quick. His other hand wraps around my throat, squeezing painfully hard. The punch of dread in my stomach has my eyes widening in fear.
“None of that,” he says, and I hate how calm he is right now.
Lifting me from the ground, he takes two steps, pinning me against the wall. Despite my kicks, he steps in closer, skillfully dodging my strikes. His body completely engulfs mine, suffocating me with its overpowering stench that slithers into my lungs, depriving me of the little oxygen I have left.
Abchanchu’s tongue darts out, gliding over the wound on my arm. His saliva burns my skin like acid. A scream erupts from deep within my throat, and I squirm against him, but it’s useless.
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I can’t escape the overpowering scent of blood that accompanies the waves of nausea rolling through me.
His mouth moves from my arm, and his fingers tighten around my throat, squeezing so hard that black spots start to dance in my vision. As he inhales along the column of my neck, I’m paralyzed, unable to move a muscle. Despite my best efforts, my stomach tightens into knots and a whimper escapes me.
I feel his mouth curl into a wicked grin against my skin, then his teeth pierce into my neck.
The pull of blood and lack of oxygen has my body trembling, a cold sweat breaking out over my skin as I’m engulfed in pain, every nerve in my body set ablaze. A strangled gasp falls from my lips as I struggle to remain conscious. Darkness consumes my sight, and a deep sense of panic takes hold.
No, no, no, no, no . . .
Abchanchu’s other hand reaches between us and roughly cups my breast. I squirm desperately, anger and fear swirling inside me like a tornado. But the more I squirm, the harder he presses those nails into my flesh.
A sudden sense of calm washes over me, and my mind is filled with the ethereal sound of a gentle voice.
“Hold on, child.”
Then another voice.
“You’re stronger than you think.”
“Block out the pain.”
My body goes limp, and I sag against Abchanchu. I feel his teeth slide from my neck, and he abruptly steps back, letting me crumble to the cold, unforgiving ground.
“Your blood is so warm. It’s like drinking the finest whiskey, but with more screaming.”
“I will kill you,” I croak out.
“Pet, you can do little more than lift your pinkie finger,” he taunts.
