Page 34 of Coal Hearts

A trapdoor opened.

A narrow table shot upright.

A table with cuffs dangling on chains and a leather strap with a heavy bronze buckle in the middle.

No.

No!

Shooting to my feet, I yanked on the door with all my strength. “Let me out. Anyone! Help!”

Come on.

Open. Open!

It didn’t so much as creak.

The leader raised a toast. “Strap her down, bind her tight, spread her legs, and fuck her. Fuck her like you’ve wanted to fuck but never could. I want to hear her scream, Ward. Prove to me you are what you say you are, and you may spend the weekend at my estate.”

I lost myself as self-preservation kicked in.

I ran.

This door might be locked, but...there could be others. I bolted around the room, my boots flashing in the many mirrors, my black hair streaming behind me.

Please.

There has to be a way out.

There has to be—

A strong arm lashed around me, catching me mid-flight.

“No! Let go of me!”

I didn’t think.

I just fought.

Fast and furious, I struck and pummelled, kicked and scratched.

I screamed as Henri plucked me from my feet and carried me squirming and thrashing to the table.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t let me go.

With inhuman strength, he pressed me flat on my belly on the table. I tried to punch him, but he merely snatched one wrist and snapped the cuff around me before imprisoning the other.

In a few short moments, he’d overpowered me, trapped me, and proven just how wrong I was about everything.

Tears burned the back of my throat as I tried to stand. The cuffs kept me bent over the table, the edge of the wood digging against my hips, teetering me on my tiptoes.

The debasement.

The awful, awful sensation of being held down against my will.

“Let me go,” I hissed, squirming in the cuffs. “Please.”