Page 86 of Summoned
A void yawns open inside me, swallowing everything.
“So what?” Daniel mutters. “Her being late tonight is completely disrespectful…”
The world tilts. Sweat beads on my forehead, but I can’t wipe it—my hands are frozen against the floor.
‘Tonight.’
‘Late.’
‘Obedient.’
‘Your dad liked her.’
My heart pounds against my ribs. Every drop of blood in me screams one word: truth.
Not an illusion.
Not a scene.
Not a game.
Thisisthe dinner with Daniel Deliberov. Gaetano did something that made me lose track of time. That’s why he took me to the cave—to hold me there, to delay me. And now… I’m late.
My breath catches. I’m curled beneath the table, naked and dust-covered, at the center of my own nightmare. This isn’t a dream. This is my life.
I crawl forward a few more inches, but every movement feels heavy. My body throbs with a dark, suffocating sensation. I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. It’s disgust, rage, betrayal, humiliation.
How dare they? Daniel and his mother?
How dare any of them—
I lose my balance and nearly hit the ground face-first when someone grabs my ankles and yanks me out. Panic rises in my throat. I slam my palms against the floor, desperate to hold on, but my bare stomach slides across the stone.
My knees scrape raw as I’m dragged out between thetwo long tables and dropped. I curl up instinctively, trying to hide. But it’s too late.
The shadows around me stir. Chairs creak. Laughter bubbles up. Snickers. Whispers.
Scrambling to a kneeling position, I split my hair at the nape of my neck, covering my chest. God, it’s not enough.
“Years later, and you’re still the same pathetic loser.”
I spin on my knees, facing those rose-pink heels. Boyana towers over me, hands on her hips, her mouth twisting into a sly smile.
“How dare you?” I snarl through my teeth.
Forgetting I’m naked, I start to rise. No one’s going to talk to me like that, least of all Boyana.
Heavy hands slam down on my shoulders. A sharp shove knocks me back onto the stone, biting into my skin. “Know your place, girl,” Daniel Deliberov drawls above me. “You’re here to decorate. Not to yell. Andcertainlynot to speak.”
His hand rests on my hair, fingers sliding through the strands with the kind of possessive boredom you’d show when inspecting a horse before a sale.
“Look at her. She can’t even stand up,” someone sneers nearby.
Shadows envelop me. My emotions cloud my vision, blending faces and voices into a single faceless crowd.
“Andshethinks she can boss us around?”
“This is supposed to be the future Mrs. Deliberov? You must be desperate, Daniel.”
