Page 5 of Marked By Him

I know that voice.

I scoffed. "I’m strapped to a chair, locked in a dark room, and you're worried about me hurtingmyself?"

He stepped forward in swift, long strides, stopping in front of me. His hands gripped the wooden arms of the chair as he leaned in. His breath was inches from my face. His scent swirled around me, filling the air with something dangerously intoxicating. It was clean. Masculine. Nothing like the pine needles and mud that I’d been surrounded by for hours.

But it reminded me of the woods and invoked something primal inside me. I held my breath to keep myself from getting wrapped up in it. This man—whoever he was—was dangerous, and I needed to be alert.

His eyes were as fierce and blue as the ocean. They seared into mine, pulling me under, deeper and deeper into their trenches.

"I’m not worried aboutyouat all. You're strapped to that chair for my protection."So, he’s not a vampire."I don’t know you, have no idea where you’re from, who you are.” A pause. “Whatyou are.”He thinks I’m one of them.He looked me over. “What I doknow is that you showed up at my gates, covered in dirt and blood. And you’ll stay strapped to that chair until I find out why.”

Why.

He wanted to know why. Why I was here, what I’d been running from. He wanted to know about the nightmare that had crawled out of the darkness and stood in the middle of the road, wiping my father’s blood from his lips.

He wanted me to tell him how I’d found the strength to leave my parents with a monster. How I’d run through the forest until my lungs burned and every muscle felt like it was on fire.

I remembered it all now, every second of it.

Thorns from the Lawrence trees had torn open my skin. Branches had slapped my arms and face. The ground was still soft from last night’s rain, leaving me stuck in the mud over and over again. Every step grew harder, heavier. Until finally, I took off my shoes and kept pushing, kept running. Sharp edges of rocks sliced the skin off my bare feet. I’d tripped on fallen branches, skinning my knees and scraping my palms when I’d landed on the ground. The scent of blood that surrounded me was my own.

There had been no one chasing me through the trees. No one’s voice had whispered against my skin.

It was a dream.

But one thing I knew to be real was the courage in my mother’s eyes as I took a final look at her. There was the blood on the monster’s lips and the very high possibility that it was my father’s.

The reality was that I was alone.

I ran.

And telling himwhymeant saying those truths out loud. Saying them out loud meant living the moments all over again and that was not going to happen.

“Let me go, you sick fuck.” I stared back at him, straightening my spine and holding my chin high, determined not to show fear. “I’ll scream.”

That was one of the three rules.No matter what, never, ever scream.Screams were like beacons of light at midnight. They attracted unwanted attention.

His eyes narrowed, as if he could break me with a simple stare.

“Did you hear me?” I gritted my teeth. “I said, I’ll scream.”

He grabbed my chin between his thumb and index finger. His gaze dropped to my mouth and my heart raced with a vengeance.

"Go ahead,” he said. “No one will hear you. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care. No one questions me."

They.I wasn’t alone. There were other people here. Were there other prisoners? Or other people like him? People who didn’t care about screams or rules.

He dropped his hand. “Where did you come from?”

I scanned the room for a hint of life, a weapon, a way out other than that tiny sliver of a window at the top of a wall.

There was nothing but darkness.

My throat closed. My pulse pounded in my ears. I was strapped to a chair, held captive by a man twice my size. I’d been running for hours. I had no idea where I was or how to get back to where I came from. My parents were dead. The only power I still had was my own mind, my thoughts, my voice. My memories. And I wasn’t about to give those to him.

I clamped my lips shut.

“Have it your way.” He stood up straight and I felt his gaze like a thousand needles pricking my skin. “But this is not a game you want to play with me.”

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