That made me a monster.
I wasn’t half as human as I had thought. I didn’t deserve Kenzo’s presence. I wasn’t worth his light. He was better far away from me.
It had been a week now, and I was still here, a prisoner in my supposed husband’s house, just as I had presumed. I had no access to my cellphone, because like all devils did, he lied to me. He didn’t have any plan on getting me a phone.
The night we arrived in Glenfallow was the last night I saw him. According to what I heard from Captain Razzo, Zaghan traveled for business, and he would be making stops in three countries, which meant he might be gone for a week or more.
The soldier was apparently my caretaker until Zaghan would return. He told me that if I needed to speak to Zaghan, I should let him know. I had nothing to say to Zaghan. I preferred it if he didn’t even come back so I could have time to plan my escape from this hell hole.
My days were monotonous. All I had been doing was waking up, showering, and standing at the balcony of our room, which I realised was at least 48 feet tall, and watching soldiers move robotically with weapons hanging around their bodies as if they were preparing for war.
Then at 8 a.m., the butler would knock on the door and echobreakfastwith those feathery wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
The farthest the soldiers watching my every move had allowed me to go was the gazebo. And even in there, I was surrounded by five armed men. And when I looked to my right, at least ten armed soldiers were hanging on the guard tower, which oversaw everything happening on the ground.
The only person that had ever given me a reaction in this house was Callan’s sister. Oh, she hated me. The sight of me alone always set off this grenade in her head.
My first dinner here, on my way back to my room, she cornered me. I really couldn’t catch most of the things she said. I had zoned out, only seeing the rage in her eyes, the twisted way her lips moved as she said another annoying thing to me in Scottish. But she was the least of my problem. I found her rather entertaining.
A heavy sigh broke out of my lips as I leaned off the metal railing, my fingers whisking away the hair that the wind plastered across her face. I wrapped my arms around my body when a gentle shiver travelled through me.
With one last glance stolen at the soldiers disappearing into the large building where they usually went for training, I turned away at the same time a loud knock came on the door.
I slid the balcony door shut, my feet padding against the floor as I crossed over to the said door. I pulled it open, my brows pinched when I saw no one. I glanced down at the hall but saw nothing.
Shaking away the strange feeling, I proceeded to shut the door but something on the floor caught my eyes fleetingly.
It was a folded paper.
Bending over, I moved to touch it, but retrieved my hand cautiously.
Is it a bomb?
‘It’s just a freaking paper,’a snarky voice uttered.
Glancing down at the dark and empty hallway, I lifted the paper with such delicate hands, as if the faintest of pressure would shatter it. I shut the door behind me, then walked to the black leather couch and sat.
I took a deep breath in and unfolded the paper. It was just a note, of course, in black ink.
It had no name.
I read.
~A golden cage is still a prison. I see you, French bird. I see the way your wings twitch, the way your eyes dart to the door you’ll never open because you think you’re not brave enough. But trust me, you don’t have to belong to him just because he said so~
Huh?
???
I was asleep, but I could swear someone was touching me. Maybe it was just a dream, but my body was on fire, heat pooling low in my stomach. And there was an unquenchable, burning ache between my thighs.
A long gasp echoed in the room, my eyes snapping open. For a split, I felt disoriented, unable to make up anything in thepoorly lit room. Then I heard it, a satisfied hum so close, almost like it was happening right in front of—
A zap of pleasure wracked my body, my chest heaving as my eyes fell on the mass of white hair buried between my legs.
The person’s head lifted, a sly grin stretching across his lips, the same lips that were currently covered in my release.
“What the–”
