Page 32 of Cruel Deception
I can’t breathe.
I’m shaking, my hands clawing at my arms, phantom legs skittering across my skin. “No, no, no,” I gasp, stumbling back, my gown tangling as I scan the floor, the walls, the ceiling, terror choking me.
The spider darts toward a corner, and I lose it, my panic spiraling.
Without thinking, I lunge at Cassian, climbing him like a lifeline, my legs wrapping around his waist, my arms locked around his neck. “Please,” I sob, burying my face in his shoulder, his cedar-and-leather scent grounding me just enough to keep me from breaking. “Kill it, please, I’m terrified of spiders.”
“Get off me,” he says, his voice low, chilling, a command that cuts through my hysteria.
“No,” I beg, tears streaming, my body trembling against his. “Please, help me.”
He’s still, his muscles taut, then speaks, his tone deliberate. “You’ll do as I say.”
“I will,” I gasp, my voice breaking, panic overriding pride. “Anything, just kill it.”
He moves, my body still clinging to his, his steps steady as he crushes something under his boot—a sharp crunch that makes me flinch.
He drags his foot across the tiles, opening the door to the balcony, the sea’s roar flooding in.
“It’s gone,” he says, his voice flat.
I don’t move, my heart still racing, my skin crawling with phantom spiders.
I’m too scared, too raw, to let go, his scent intoxicating, his warmth a cruel comfort.
“Charlotte,” he says, his voice a command, “get down.”
“I will,” I whisper, but my grip tightens, my face pressed into his neck, my panic a chain I can’t break.
He stands there, unyielding, my husband, my captor, and I’m trapped—not just by him, but by the terror that’s owned me since I was a child.
My body is still trembling, but it’s no longer from fear of the spider.
It’s from knowing—I didn’t marry a man.
I married a monster.
And monsters don’t forget.
I finally peeled myself off Cassian, my body still trembling from the panic. My lungs heaved, the room swaying slightly around me.
My skin still crawls, my arachnophobia a live wire in my veins, every shadow a potential threat.
I scan the room. half-expecting another black leg to skitter from a corner.
Cassian’s phone shrills, shattering the silence.
He glances at the screen, his face darkening, a storm cloud passing over his sharp features.
“I’ll be back,” he said, voice flat, unreadable.
He didn’t wait for a response before walking out the door.
I collapse onto the bed, the black silk sheets cool against my flushed skin, exhaustion pulling at me like a tide.
My eyes dart to the corners, the ceiling, searching for spiders, my phobia a relentless ghost.
I’ve never felt this drained, my body heavy, my mind a tangle of Cassian’s cruelty.
