Terror flooded Dakota’s system, making his thoughts scatter. How had Bennett gotten in? The door was locked. The window was only open six inches, nowhere near enough for a person to fit through. Unless vampires could do something Dakota didn’t know about. Unless they could slip through cracks or materialize from shadows or any number of impossible things that were apparently possible now.
Dakota tried to scream again, but Bennett’s hand pressed harder, cutting off the sound. His lungs burned. His shoulder throbbed. Every muscle in his body strained against Bennett’s hold, but it was like fighting granite. Immovable. Inescapable.
“I just want to talk.” Bennett’s tone stayed reasonable, conversational. “That’s all. But you need to stop screaming first. Can you do that for me?”
Dakota’s response was to try biting the hand over his mouth. His teeth found flesh, and he bit down hard, tasting blood. Bennett’s expression finally shifted, irritation flickering across his features.
“That was rude.” The vampire's grip tightened, and pain bloomed sharp and immediate. “I’m trying to be civil here. The least you could do is return the courtesy.”
Tears pricked at the corners of Dakota’s eyes, from pain or fear or sheer frustration that his body refused to do what he needed it to do. He was trapped. Completely trapped.
Bennett leaned closer, his face filling Dakota’s vision. “I’m going to move my hand now. If you scream, I’ll hurt you. If you stay quiet, we can have a nice chat and I’ll leave. Do you understand?”
Dakota’s mind raced, trying to find an escape route that didn’t exist. If he screamed the moment Bennett moved his hand, would Kivani hear? Would anyone hear? Or would Bennett just hurt him like he’d promised and Dakota would have accomplished nothing except making this worse?
His body made the decision for him. Dakota nodded, the movement tiny and jerky against Bennett’s restraining hand.
“Good boy.” Bennett’s smile returned, and something about the expression made Dakota’s stomach turn. “I knew you could be reasonable.”
The hand moved away from Dakota’s mouth slowly, ready to clamp back down if needed. Dakota sucked in air, his lungs grateful for the full breath. His mind screamed at him to yell for help, to make noise, to do anything except lie here passive and afraid.
But the fear won. The memory of Bennett’s strength, the casual way he’d overpowered Dakota, the promise of pain if Dakota didn’t comply. But Bennett didn’t want to talk. The deeper threat was written in his cold, flat eyes. He wanted pain. Dakota’s pain.
He stayed silent.
Bennett shifted his weight, settling more comfortably on top of Dakota’s body. The casual nature of it made everything worse somehow, like this was normal for him. Like pinning someone to their floor and threatening them was just a way to pass the time.
“You know what I’ve realized?” Bennett’s free hand came up to stroke Dakota’s hair, the gesture almost tender. “You never really belonged to yourself. Not from the moment we met. You were always looking for someone to tell you what to do, how to feel, who to be.”
The words hit too close to truths Dakota didn’t want to examine. His throat worked, trying to swallow past the dryness there.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” His voice came out rough.
“Oh, but you do.” Bennett’s fingers tightened in Dakota’s hair, not quite painful but getting there. “You belonged to me first. Before that tiger ever laid eyes on you, you were mine. Do you know how that feels? To have something taken from you by someone who thinks they have more right to it?”
Dakota’s mind scrambled for the right response, the words that would de-escalate this situation. But every thought felt slippery, impossible to hold on to while Bennett’s weight pressed him into the floor and his shoulder screamed in protest.
“Kivani didn’t take anything.” Dakota forced the words out, tried to make them sound stronger than he felt. “I’m not a possession. I’m a person who makes my own choices.”
Bennett’s laugh was cold, empty of genuine humor. “Is that what you tell yourself? That you chose him? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like he manipulated you. Fed you some story about destiny and mates and you ate it up like the desperate thing you are.”
The accusation wormed its way into Dakota’s thoughts, finding the doubts already living there. What if Bennett was right? What if the mate bond was just manipulation dressed up as fate? What if everything Kivani had said was designed to trap Dakota into something he would never have chosen on his own?
No. He shoved the thoughts away with everything he had. Kivani had been nothing but patient. Nothing but kind. Had given Dakota space to process, time to decide, freedom to walk away if that was what he wanted. That wasn't manipulation. That was the opposite of what Bennett had done, was still doing.
“You’re wrong.” Dakota met Bennett’s eyes, tried to channel conviction he was still building. “Kivani respects me. Actually cares about what I want. You never did that. You just took and took and made me feel like I should be grateful you even looked at me.”
Something dangerous flickered across Bennett’s expression. His hand in Dakota’s hair yanked hard enough to make Dakota’s eyes water, forcing his head back at an angle that exposed his throat.
“Careful.” The word came out soft, deadly. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Dakota’s pulse jumped. He could feel it hammering, too fast and hard. Bennett’s eyes tracked the movement, fixating on the vulnerable skin stretched taut.
“I came here to remind you of something important.” Bennett’s voice had taken on a quality Dakota recognized from their relationship. The tone that preceded demands Dakota couldn’t refuse without consequences. “You can pretend all you want that you've moved on, that you've found something better. But your body remembers who you belong to.”
The words made Dakota’s stomach clench with nausea. He tried to twist away, but Bennett’s grip was absolute. His wrists throbbed where Bennett held them, his shoulder ached, and his scalp burned where hair pulled against roots.
“Let me go.” Dakota hated how his voice shook, how the fear bled through despite his attempts to sound brave. “Just let me go and leave. I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
