Page 7 of Wicked Chains
Ash moves through the crowd with the easy attitude of someone who knows he's the most dangerous person in the room. Students part before him like water, some looking curious, others admiring. If they only knew what he really was. His eyes never leave mine as he approaches, that same cold smile playing at his lips.
"Rose," he says when he reaches me, his voice carrying just enough for those nearby to hear. "You should join me at the front. Helena is eager to speak with you."
It's not a request. It's a command disguised as a polite invitation, and the expectation that I'll comply is evident. Everyone is watching me.
"I'm good here, thank you," I say, mimicking his fake politeness while staying firmly in my seat.
Irritation flashes in his eyes. He clearly didn't expect public defiance.
"I insist," he says, extending a hand toward me. His tone is still pleasant, but there's an edge to it now, a warning.
"And I decline," I counter, meeting his gaze. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure everyone can hear it, but I keep my face a mask.
The people around us shift uncomfortably.
Ash's smile tightens, the mask of civility slipping just enough for me to see the rage underneath. Let him get angry. Angry people make mistakes.
"Rose," he says, softer now, almost intimate. "Don't make this difficult."
"I'm not making anything difficult," I reply, still not moving. "I'm just enjoying the assembly from my current seat. But thanks for your concern."
A small crease appears between his eyebrows, and for a moment, I think he might drop the act entirely and drag me to the front by my hair. Part of me almost wishes he would. At least then everyone would see what kind of monster is really taking over our school. Whether they would care is another story.
Instead, he straightens, adjusting his shirt cuffs. "Very well."
The relief I feel doesn’t last long. Ash's eyes drop to my arm, where the mark is hidden beneath my sleeve, and he smiles.
I gasp, my hand automatically clutching at my arm. The pain is immediate, but it's nothing compared to what comes next.
Something hooks into my chest, and yanks. My body moves without my permission, rising from my seat as I try to resist, to plant my feet, to sit back down, but there’s no fighting it. My muscles aren't my own anymore. It’s like vampire compulsion on steroids.
"What are you doing?" Panic rises as I take one step forward, then another, my body moving on its own. "Stop it!"
But Ash just watches, that same cold smile in place, as I walk toward him with jerky, puppet-like movements. Students stare, confused by my sudden change of heart and awkward gait.
When I reach him, the invisible hook in my chest contorts, and my knees buckle. I fight it with everything I have, but it's useless. My legs give out and I drop to my knees at Ash's feet like a beggar before a king.
The humiliation is worse than the pain in my arm. I'm kneeling on the floor of the Great Hall, surrounded by my peers, completely powerless to stop what's happening to me.
"What a touching display of respect," Ash says loudly. His hand comes to rest on the top of my head, the gesture possessive and demeaning.
Ash crouches down, bringing his face level with mine. To anyone watching, it probably looks like he's having a friendly chat with a student. But there's nothing friendly in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair from my face.
"Everyone in this room will soon understand that you belong to me, Rose Smith," he murmurs so only I can hear him.
"Fuck you," I breathe.
"Such spirit. It will make breaking you all the more satisfying."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Soren, rising slightly from his seat, his expression darkening as he watches Ash's hand on me. I can see the tightness in his body, the protective streak in him that I glimpsed yesterday is still there, despite his apparent alliance with the new regime.
I squint my eyes, trying to communicate without words. Not now. Not here.
Whether he gets the message or just decides on his own, Soren settles back into his seat, though his eyes remain on Ash andme. Lucien is watching too, his face still carefully blank but his crimson eyes narrowed.
Ash notices my attention shift and follows my eyes to the two men. "Your friends can't help you," he says softly. “They’ve made their choices.”
The magical compulsion finally releases me, and I nearly collapse forward with the sudden return of control over my own body. I catch myself, refusing to show more weakness than he's already forced from me. Slowly, I rise to my feet, my legs shaking with the aftereffects.
