Page 105 of Ransomed to the World
Before she could protest, the door to her room was thrown open and everyone whirled. Daxion stood just outside, casting an unreadable glance over her men. When his gaze landed on her, it turned smug. “I knew you’d never go anywhere without your mates. It was only a matter of time before they showed up.”
Fuck!
She’d been a damned fool. She thought they were safe, but he’d set the perfect trap, one that was guaranteed to make her do exactly what he wanted.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Annora wanted to kick herself, and she would later. For now, she had to find a way to deal with Daxion that didn’t get them killed. She squared her shoulders and centered herself, unwilling to let him intimidate her. “What do you want?”
His brows rose and he smirked. He had all the cards, and the fucker knew it. He leaned forward, tapped the center of the doorway, and the air rippled like a rock hitting the surface of water. A deep gong resonated through the room. “Your men will remain here until after the ceremony. I’ve made sure of it. Once you fulfill your part of the bargain, you’ll be able to return to them. If you try to leave or renege on the deal, I’ll start killing them. Do you have a favorite? One you want me to save for last?”
Her insides went cold at his callous taunt.
He had no intention of letting her or them go.
Ever.
The guys were tense, willing to fight. Daxion noticed and gave the guys a cruel, imperious smile, smugness practically oozing from his pores. “The wards circle the entire room. If you try to leave, you’ll be banished to the center of the dead zone. I’ve heard survival there is chancy at best.”
“He’s right.” Edgar nudged her, never once taking his gaze off Daxion. “It’s a war zone. As soon as we enter, it will be like a dinner bell going off. I can’t guarantee our safety.”
Fuck!
Her heart sank.
“Checkmate, my dear.” Daxion smirked when she glared at him. “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, you’ll see them again…as long as you do what I say. Come, it’s time for the ceremony.”
Annora shook with impotent rage. Darkness whirled around her, staining the dress black, leaving the purple to shimmer over it like stars had been embedded in the dress. The darkness urged her to rip off his head and fuck the consequences.
Without a hint of fear, Camden wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her back against him. Wisps of darkness danced around him like eager puppies. He hummed when it soaked in his skin, as if he enjoyed the shock of it. He kissed the mark he’d placed on her neck. “Go with him, love. We’ll be fine without you for a few hours.”
She reached up and clutched at his arm, allowing his calm to soak into her. It had nothing to do with his toxic touch and everything to do with his ability to remain unruffled no matter what was thrown at him.
Annora swallowed down her anger, resigning herself to spending an afternoon with people who wanted nothing more than to kill her.
She gave a nod to the guys, her chest aching like she’d taken a mortal wound as she walked away from them, knowing if she didn’t do this, they’d all be marked for death.
Which was more than enough incentive.
Annora squared her shoulders and stepped through the doorway.
The wards bit at her skin, the portal rough, like traveling over a bumpy road. A narrow path no more than two feet wide glowed in the darkness. Particles swirled around her as if in welcome, her dress floating weightlessly around her, when she heard the low snarl of a deadly creature as it caught scent of its prey.
Her.
The urge to run sparked deep in her gut, but she resisted the need to bolt. If she left the trail, she had a feeling it would be difficult even for her to find her way back in one piece.
She followed the path, pushing through the darkness until it thinned and she found herself back inside the mansion.
“Come, we’re going to be late.” Daxion marched off with a scowl, expecting her to follow, and a dozen or so guards fell into step around her. She wasn’t sure if they were there to make sure she didn’t escape or so she couldn’t kill him.
Voices carried up the stairs, and her breathing stalled for a moment, everything inside her rebelling at once again being paraded in front of people like some damned broodmare. Memories of her uncle doing the same, selling her healing abilities to the highest bidder, made bile rise in her throat.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they turned and headed farther back into the house. Double doors were open wide, and people mingled beyond, drinking and chatting, their attire magnificent, the men in fancy suits and the women wearing gowns so elaborate, it made hers look like something found at the bottom of her closet.
As soon as she entered the massive ballroom, everyone turned to look at her, some watching her curiously, others with disgust, but one thing was the same…they all looked down on her. It was easy to pick out the people on the council—they exuded power like a physical punch. She suspected they could pull it back but didn’t, so others would know how much more power they had over them.
A man hailed Daxion from across the room, and her father turned toward her. “Mingle with the others and try not to embarrass me.”
