He’s on me in an instant, fingers digging into my jaw, forcing my head up.
“You don’t get to provoke me,” he snarls. “Not after tonight.”
“Why?” I choke out. “Because I belong to him?”
His grip tightens. “Because you made him weak.”
That lands harder than the slap. I need to make sure he doesn’t see me have a reaction to his words, but those words are harder, I don’t want to be a weakness to someone else.
He shoves me back into the chair and turns away like I’m no longer worth his attention.
My heart is still racing, but my hands are steady now.
The rope around my wrists is tight, but not impossible. Old. Worn.
I twist slowly, friction burning my skin, testing the fibers.The vampires keep talking, laughing, and planning.They don’t notice when I shift closer to the bar.They don’t notice when my fingers slip free.
I move fast.
I lunge for the shelves behind the bar, grabbing the nearest bottle and hurling it against the wall.
Glass explodes.
Alcohol sprays everywhere.
I knock over another bottle, then another. The smell of liquor fills the room, sharp and overwhelming.
“What the fuck?” someone yells.
I grab a lit candle from the bar and throw it.
Fire blooms.
It’s immediate. Hungry. Flames race across the soaked wood, climbing the walls, licking at the ceiling.
The room erupts into chaos.
“Put it out!”
“She’s trying to burn us!”
Smoke fills the air fast, thick, and intense.
I turn toward the door, lungs already burning.
Almost free.
A hand slams into my back, sending me crashing into the bar.
The gray-haired vampire looms over me, eyes wild.
“You stupid bitch,” he snarls. “Did you think I wouldn’t stop you?”
My lungs scream for relief. My vision blurs.
I claw at his arm, nails digging into his skin.
He laughs in my ear. “That’s it. Fight. I like it.”
