Page 75 of Shackled to the World
The past week had fucked him up far beyond what was done to his damaged body. Even now blood leaked from various wounds, leaving him lying in a sticky, crusted pool.
As he fought against the ropes, his broken ribs ground together, and he hissed in pain. He struggled against the urge to remain still, allow the pain to fade, but one thought filled him with determination—they were coming for him.
She was coming for him.
He blinked away tears at the thought of seeing her again.
His Annora.
A twinge of worry niggled at the back of his brain—what would she see when she looked at him?
He wasn’t the same man.
He was broken.
Damaged.
He’d survived hell with his pack, but this was so much worse.
He shuddered when he realized he’d barely lasted a week before going out of his ever-loving mind. He was at the point he’d do anything to make the pain go away.
He couldn’t comprehend how she’d survived years.
Alone.
With no hope of rescue.
His heart broke at what she had endured just to survive.
If only he’d known, he would’ve come for her in a heartbeat.
He trembled, adrenaline shooting through him at the thought of her coming for him, and he was determined she wouldn’t find him trussed up like a damned turkey ready to be served. He had to figure a way out and find her.
His arms actually ached at the thought of holding her close.
He shook his head—first he’d kiss her, then hold her, and never let her go.
He needed to let her know she meant everything to him.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he twisted and rolled onto his numb hands, making them feel like he’d stuck them in a woodchipper. With each move, the scabs crusted along his back from his last whipping just hours before broke open, and fresh blood spilled. He wanted to rage and fight, but he couldn’t help but tremble when he thought of the punishment they’d inflict if he managed to escape and they caught him.
Only one thing snapped him out of his paralysis.
Annora was waiting for him.
He would never go back to that cell. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t survive.
He was already becoming conditioned by the pain.
How to avoid it.
Ways to please his captors so he wouldn’t be hurt again.
The fear was like being wrapped in barbed wire. He couldn’t help wondering if he was already too damaged, worrying that she wouldn’t want him back…that he would fail her when she needed him most. With each thought, his doubts sent the barbed wire burrowing deeper.
He fought against it.
Only one thing was more basic than fear—his need to see her again. She was like air. Without her, he would drown in the pain. Only the image of them together when this was over allowed him to hold onto hope.
