Because that? That right there?
That’smyfucking territory.
And it’s currently being trespassed on like I don’t exist.
I have no right to this fury. No claim on Bash after everything I did. That truth is a bitter pill, but it does nothing to dull the burn.
“Bash!” I roar as they separate, but he doesn’t even glance behind him as he walks away.
“Bash!Sebastian!”
I lunge toward the door, needing to stop him from leaving again, but before I can reach it, Cato catches me from behind and slams my chest against the wall.
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” he growls by my ear. “You’re not getting anywhere near him right now.”
“Let me go!” I pour every ounce of power I have left into the command.
His grip loosens and I surge forward, bursting through the door into the hallway where a small crowd has gathered. They stare wide-eyed as I scream Bash's name down the corridor.
Cato catches me again and yanks both my wrists behind my back as he pins me once more. I watch until Bash disappears through a distant door and slams it shut.
The fight drains from my body. I slump against the wall, trapped there by Cato’s weight, and tears burn hot as I close my eye against the flood.
“He isn’t yours,” Cato snarls, yanking me upright so roughly my shoulders scream with the angle. “Not anymore.”
He drags me through a winding maze of rooms and hallways that pass in a blur. I should be mapping every turn, committing the layout to memory for a chance of escape, but all I can do is picture that closed door.
Eventually, he shoves me into a small, windowless room that’s barely larger than the holding cells at Ljómur. A narrow bed occupies one corner, while a tiny bathroom with a toiletand sink takes up the other. It’s clean, impersonal, and utterly confining.
“How long am I expected to be your prisoner?” I demand, voice scraped thin from the emotions clawing at my throat.
“Until Dom says otherwise,” Cato retorts. The satisfaction in his tone twists the knife deeper, using that name like it isn’t a lie.
I turn to glare at him, but he only lifts his chin in open challenge. The arrogant asshole is fully aware of what I could do to him now that we’re alone, but he’s unbothered by the threat.
“You should never have come,” he says flatly. “There’s nothing here for you.”
“Fuck you,” I grit. “There’s more that he needs to hear.”
“He doesn’t needanythingfrom you.” Cato’s voice hardens further as he takes a half step forward with a storm in his eyes. “Do you have any idea of the state you left him in? He was barely alive when I found him, and I’m not letting you drag him back into that hell.”
The guilt is crushing, and I sink onto the edge of the bed with my face in my palms.
“I did what I had to do,” I say. “It was for his own good.”
“Tell that to the nights he woke up shaking and calling out for you.”
The words slice clean through me, bringing with them memories of my own endless nights.
Reaching for a body that wasn’t there.
Waking in cold sweat.
Sobbing until my throat bled.
Sleep had been my only refuge, the one place I could pretend he was still beside me.
The only time I didn’t want to die.
