Page 23 of Lycan King's Captives
“Can I come with you?” I ask, hoping to escape the confinement of this room. I look at him, my eyes pleading.
He shakes his head, and I feel the weight of his refusal like a stone in my stomach. “Definitely not. Not until I know I can trust you,” he growls, his tone firm and final. I never ran off last time, I’ve done everything he’s asked of me.
I swallow hard, my appetite suddenly gone. I watch Xandros for a few minutes as he returns to fiddling with his phone, texting someone. The more I sit, the more my situation weighs on me. A wave of sadness washes over me, I say nothing as I peer around the room. Despite the little luxuries it offers—luxuries I never had at home, like good heating, a soft bed, and my own bathroom—it is still a prison—a fancier one, but a prison no less.
When we finish eating, Xandros places the tray on the coffee table, and I use that as my escape. I get up and make my way back to the bed, feeling the softness of the mattress beneath me as I lie down wondering if it is truly possible to sleep your life away; if my life will always be confined to this room I might as well try. As I snuggle beneath the blankets, the bed dips as Xandros follows, tugging me against him. His touch no longer excites me and I squirm, wanting to be left alone, but his hand slips into my underwear. However, this time, I pull it out, causing him to growl.
“Sienna?” he growls.
“I want to sleep,” I tell him, my voice toneless, defeated.
“Are you seriously chucking a tantrum about me not taking you with me?” he snarls. I don’t answer; his question doesn’t warrant an answer when he believes it to be a mere tantrum. It isn’t. It’s about feeling like a prisoner. How would he like it if he was confined to four walls and told to be happy about it? When I don’t answer, he shoves me away. He stomps into the closet, retrieving clothes and then leaves the room, slamming and locking the door behind him.
In that moment, I realize I’ve become nothing more than a sex toy to him, and a tear slides down my cheek. The room suddenly feels suffocating, like the walls are closing in and I need some fresh air.
I get up and head toward the window, drawing the curtains aside. Stupidly, I can’t resist the temptation, and I try to open the window, but as expected it is locked tight and I sigh, pressing my head against the glass.
The view outside is breathtaking, with the sun slowly rising over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the landscape. The sight is so peaceful, and I take a deep breath, pretending I can feel the fresh air fill my lungs.
The vibrant colors of the flowers in the garden, glistening under the dusting of melting snow, the fluttering of the leaves in the gentle breeze I may never feel again, and the sound of chirping birds that have more freedom than me. I sit on the windowsill until my butt aches before dragging myself back to bed.
9
The sound of the door opening makes me sit up. Despite being angry with him, excitement bubbles up thinking it is him. Disappointment floods me when I notice it is just a servant. After a few moments, and tidying up on her way, she moves to the door.
The faint sound of her footsteps echoes in the silence, and I feel a sudden ache in my chest. She slips out, turning at the last second and noticing me watching her. She bows her head, giving me a sad smile before slipping out the door and locking it. I peer around. Xandros is nowhere to be found, and I wonder if he’s coming back.
My gaze scans the room, and I spot a tray of food positioned on the coffee table by the fireplace. My stomach growls, despite this the thought of food makes me nauseous. What I really need is him, but he’s not here. The mate bond aches with his absence, and I feel empty and lost.
I get out of bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor, and make my way back to the window. The curtains are still drawn, and I hesitate to take my seat on it. The view outside is no longer breathtaking, but a reminder of my captivity.
The vibrant colors of the flowers in the garden, the fluttering of the leaves in the gentle breeze, and the chirping of the birds only serve to taunt me. I miss my old life, even though it was far from what I would have chosen for myself. At least it was mundane and predictable back then, at least I was free and not confined.
I slump against the windowpane. The room feels suffocating, and I need out of it, my panic growing more the longer I am trapped here without any distractions. I get up and head toward the door, hoping to find a way out. It’s locked, and I’m trapped. The realization hits me harder despite knowing this already, and I feel a lump forming in my throat as I yank on the handle, twisting it and shaking it, trying to break the lock.
I sit on the bed, my back against the headboard, and wrap my arms around my knees.
The silence is deafening, and my thoughts are consuming me. I miss my uncle, which is ridiculous, at least he was someone to talk to—well to yell at me— right now I would take that familiarity over this silence; my friends, the few I had, and I miss my old job, the routine of my mundane old life. I miss the freedom to make my own choices, to live my life the way I want. Now, I’m nothing more than a prisoner, a possession of a man who only wants me for his pleasure.
The tears start to flow down my cheeks, and I can’t hold them back. The sobs wrack my body, and I feel like I’m falling apart. The pain in my chest intensifies, and I clutch at it, hoping to ease the ache. It only gets worse with each passing moment.
Hours go by, and I’m still sitting there, lost in my thoughts. The sun has shifted, casting a different light in the room. The door creaks open, and I peer up, hoping to see Xandros. It’s once again one of the maids, carrying a tray of food.
“Are you hungry, miss?” she asks, her voice gentle as she notices the full tray still sitting where she left it at lunch.
I shake my head, feeling sick to my stomach. She places the tray on the nightstand and retrieves the old one, then leaves without another word. The smell of the food makes me nauseous, and I turn away from it.
The room is still silent, and I’m alone with my thoughts again. The ache in my chest has subsided a little. I wonder where Xandros is, what he’s doing, and if he even cares I’m here. Or, perhaps he has simply forgotten me?
My thoughts go to Carina. Is that where he is? With his wife? While I rot here. I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am. He is hers and I want him too, even though I shouldn’t. She is more suited to him, and it’s clear she hates me, and why wouldn’t she? She should hate my guts! I am her husband’s dirty little mistress, and nothing more.
As the night falls, I crawl back into bed, feeling the emptiness of the room; it makes the room colder, hollow, every movement, twitch, or sound echoing in the darkness. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the thoughts. They keep coming. The memories of my old life, the pain of my captivity, and the ache of the mate bond. It’s all too much, and I wish I could escape it all. Wish I could escape this life.
10
An entire night passed, and half of today is already gone since Xandros left. I can’t shake the feeling of emptiness that’s settled within me. The mate bond has me craving his presence, my body aching without him. I hate how dependent I’ve become of him. He has become an addiction, and despite trying not to think about him, my mind always wanders back to what he could be doing. My thoughts are obsessive and possessive of him. I hate it but can’t help it.
I sit on the windowsill, resting my head against the cold glass of my prison, watching the gardener tend to the gardens outside. The door to my room opens, and I glance over to see the maid entering. She moves around the room, and I pay her no mind until she calls out to me.
