Page 23 of Captive Union
“Let me show you to your room,” he mutters, turning away from me.
I follow behind, staying silent, no more chit-chat for us, I imagine, until Erik shows me to a room. Inside, it’s painted in light greens, which blend well with the dark floors and a white bed that dominates the space. This room is fancier than my bedroom back home. My own room was plastered full of my sketches, which hurt my mother since she’d been so meticulous when picking out the color for my walls.
“Is this more to your liking?” Erik asks as I step inside.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Then I suggest you get used to it. This is your home now. Tomorrow, I’m bringing some wedding dresses for you to try on.”
I whip around to stare at him. “Why?”
He shrugs. “The sooner you pick a dress, the sooner we can get married. I expect you to comply. Have a good evening, Kira.” He shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone in this large, strange room.
Erik is serious about us getting married. A small part of me hoped he was joking.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to try on wedding dresses. So this is my fate now.
To be married to Erik, who sometimes feels like a man, and at other times, a monster.
CHAPTER8
Kira
I’m woken up by the sound of feet scurrying in and out of my room. When I open my eyes, the only color I can see is white. While asleep, it seems Erik made good on his promise, bringing in a plethora of wedding dresses.
The housekeeper, Amalia, walks in with another dress, setting it next to one of the hundreds of others in the room. Well, more like ten or so dresses spread around, but it feels like hundreds. I’ve grown up with fine things my entire life, but as I sit in a room surrounded by wedding dresses that I’m sure cost thousands of dollars each, I’ve never felt more out of place. I like my fair share of dresses, and I was a little excited to pick out my wedding dress when I thought I’d get to choose who I was marrying. But now that all my choices have been ripped from me, staring at these wedding dresses makes me feel sad—like I’ll never get to marry a man for love. Instead, I’m being forced into marriage to a man who scares me as much as he fascinates me.
I get out of bed slowly, watching Amalia bring in more dresses. Soon, the light green color on the walls will just be a sea of white. She doesn’t even look at me as she sets the dresses down and leaves, only to return with another dress in hand. It’s strange not being woken up by my mother demanding my attention and ordering me to get ready for the day and be the good girl she expects me to be. Honestly, it’s kind of nice not to be bossed around by her any longer. The only kicker is—I have someone new to boss me around, one with much more power than my mother and who is insistent on marrying me. One who has the power to hurt me seriously.
So far, though, Erik hasn’t laid a hand on me, other than the barely-there kiss in the car and when we held hands last night and stared into each other’s eyes. I can’t believe I wanted to kiss him at that moment. What was I thinking? I can’t get lost in his magnetic charm. It’s dangerous. I need to remember the words my mother told me—to stay strong and not give in to him. It’s just tough when Erik is strangely nice to me, even though he’s keeping me prisoner. God. It’s all so confusing.
When we held hands, I wanted to feel his hands over more of my body. Why am I feeling this way? I’ve only known him for a week, and in that time, I’ve been confined to a basement. Maybe I already have Stockholm Syndrome. Falling for my captor because he’s being nice to me.
I need to remember he only took me to get revenge on my brothers. While he may like me, he has ulterior motives. He’s not a pure and good man. He’s a villain. I can’t ever forget that.
I approach one of the dresses, a slinky silk one that I would never dream of wearing. My style has always been modest, and that’s not going to change now. I turn to another dress that’s so poofy it kind of makes my eyes hurt.
Maybe it’s nice that Erik is providing me with all these options. It’s clear he wants me to feel like I have some say in what’s happening to me, but we both know the truth. I don’t ultimately have a say when he has the power to do whatever he wants to me.
Amalia enters with another dress.
“How many more are there?” I ask.
She doesn’t respond, only laying the dress down and scurrying out of the room again. I sigh, looking around. If Erik expects me to actually try all of these on, he’s sorely mistaken. It’s time to start my act of defiance.
I sit on the bed and wait until Amalia finally stops returning with more dresses, deciding to stay there all day if I have to. I’m not trying them on.
The only problem is that after Amalia stops showing up, Erik takes her place instead. The way he strolls into the room with so much confidence and ease makes me feel uneasy. He has a plan, one he’s been putting together for years, and I don’t think he’s going to give up so easily if I refuse to try on the dresses. But I have to try—for my family, for me.
“How are you this morning?” he asks, settling in a comfy, light-green chair. He doesn’t look out of place at all, surrounded by all this white. I almost expected his mere presence to corrupt the dresses and turn them black.
I swallow, licking my dry lips. Erik’s eyes catch the movement, and his gaze darkens. I avert my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“I was hoping you’d be more than fine. I gave you a nice room to stay in, did I not? I was expecting a thank you.” He pauses.
Another beat goes by when I realize he wants me to actually thank him. “Thank you,” I whisper, not fighting it. He’d just pester me until I said so. Might as well get it over with.
“Compliance looks good on you,” he says in a dark tone.
