men who visited/assaulted me with some form of fertility charm to ensure their success in impregnating me. As to why Luce was so hell-bent on this mission, I didn’t know and, furthermore, didn’t want to know.
All that mattered to me was that no one had achieved the goal. Truly, no one had bested me.
And just like that, the numbness that had formerly reigned over me for the last two weeks suddenly shattered like a hallway full of mirrors during an earthquake. I was suddenly wide awake, aware. I felt like I’d just awoken from an incredibly long, oblivious slumber, only to be thrust into the stark light of reality.
How completely absurd, ludicrous, and comical that after everything Luce had put me through, all the emotional and physical rape, he hadn’t won. Throwing my head back, I started to laugh. My voice grew increasingly louder as my laughter continued to bubble from my lips, now uncontrollably.
At the sound of my irrepressible laughter, Luce immediately backed away from me and scowled until his angry, little face resembled a white prune. He glared at me for a few more seconds as I continued to belittle his powers with my raucous laughter. Then, apparently unable to take any more, he started for the door. Before he walked out, he turned back to face me. His eyes fuming, he said, “We will just have to ramp up our efforts; that is all,” before slamming the door behind him.
As soon as he left, the laughter died on my lips. Again, I had nothing to embrace but the silence and solitude that surrounded me. That, and the sad realization that even if my body wasn’t playing by Luce’s rules, I still had to. I had to because I remained a prisoner to my entire tribe, and I was, therefore, at their mercy. Mercy that, quite clearly, was lacking.
Sadly, if given the choice, I would have preferred death over living this way. I collapsed against the wall in the kitchen and pressed my back against it, sliding down until my butt met the cold floor. Then I did something I hadn’t done or felt like doing in a very long time.
I cried.
Actually, it would have been more truthful to say I bawled. Tears gushed from my eyes like raindrops during a violent storm, and I started to hyperventilate. But nothing could stop the tears. I cried until my eyes grew sore and tired, and my cheeks stung. And when I thought I couldn’t possibly shed another single tear, I started to weep again.
I wasn’t just crying over my own miserable situation. I cried because I missed my sister and Kinloch Kirk. And because I didn’t know what had happened to Rand and the rest of Jolie’s people after Luce attacked them at her wedding. Yes, of course, I considered reaching out to Jolie via our telepathic connection, but it was way too dangerous. I was convinced that Luce had magical wards placed all around my prison with the intent to spy on any telepathic conversations I might attempt. Not to mention the fact that my powers didn’t appear to work within my confines anyway …
With no way to reach out to Jolie, I reassured myself that my sister and Rand were safe. I tried to imagine the two of them playing with their beautiful baby girl, my niece. And somehow, that was enough. Somehow, I managed to teleport myself to a place far away, to a much more happy reality, far different from the one I now was experiencing.
As usual, thoughts of my sister and Kinloch Kirk branched out to thoughts about Sinjin, and I immediately pictured his piercing blue eyes. I could easily recall the way his left eyebrow arched up whenever I said or did something he found amusing. The truth was that I was so scared about the prospect of forgetting Sinjin—forgetting his perfect, masculine beauty—that I purposely envisioned every angle of his face, every one of his boyish smirks.
Of course, there was a part of me that secretly hoped Sinjin would search for me and save me from the agony I now endured every day and night. But as soon as those thoughts surfaced, I had to
All that mattered to me was that no one had achieved the goal. Truly, no one had bested me.
And just like that, the numbness that had formerly reigned over me for the last two weeks suddenly shattered like a hallway full of mirrors during an earthquake. I was suddenly wide awake, aware. I felt like I’d just awoken from an incredibly long, oblivious slumber, only to be thrust into the stark light of reality.
How completely absurd, ludicrous, and comical that after everything Luce had put me through, all the emotional and physical rape, he hadn’t won. Throwing my head back, I started to laugh. My voice grew increasingly louder as my laughter continued to bubble from my lips, now uncontrollably.
At the sound of my irrepressible laughter, Luce immediately backed away from me and scowled until his angry, little face resembled a white prune. He glared at me for a few more seconds as I continued to belittle his powers with my raucous laughter. Then, apparently unable to take any more, he started for the door. Before he walked out, he turned back to face me. His eyes fuming, he said, “We will just have to ramp up our efforts; that is all,” before slamming the door behind him.
As soon as he left, the laughter died on my lips. Again, I had nothing to embrace but the silence and solitude that surrounded me. That, and the sad realization that even if my body wasn’t playing by Luce’s rules, I still had to. I had to because I remained a prisoner to my entire tribe, and I was, therefore, at their mercy. Mercy that, quite clearly, was lacking.
Sadly, if given the choice, I would have preferred death over living this way. I collapsed against the wall in the kitchen and pressed my back against it, sliding down until my butt met the cold floor. Then I did something I hadn’t done or felt like doing in a very long time.
I cried.
Actually, it would have been more truthful to say I bawled. Tears gushed from my eyes like raindrops during a violent storm, and I started to hyperventilate. But nothing could stop the tears. I cried until my eyes grew sore and tired, and my cheeks stung. And when I thought I couldn’t possibly shed another single tear, I started to weep again.
I wasn’t just crying over my own miserable situation. I cried because I missed my sister and Kinloch Kirk. And because I didn’t know what had happened to Rand and the rest of Jolie’s people after Luce attacked them at her wedding. Yes, of course, I considered reaching out to Jolie via our telepathic connection, but it was way too dangerous. I was convinced that Luce had magical wards placed all around my prison with the intent to spy on any telepathic conversations I might attempt. Not to mention the fact that my powers didn’t appear to work within my confines anyway …
With no way to reach out to Jolie, I reassured myself that my sister and Rand were safe. I tried to imagine the two of them playing with their beautiful baby girl, my niece. And somehow, that was enough. Somehow, I managed to teleport myself to a place far away, to a much more happy reality, far different from the one I now was experiencing.
As usual, thoughts of my sister and Kinloch Kirk branched out to thoughts about Sinjin, and I immediately pictured his piercing blue eyes. I could easily recall the way his left eyebrow arched up whenever I said or did something he found amusing. The truth was that I was so scared about the prospect of forgetting Sinjin—forgetting his perfect, masculine beauty—that I purposely envisioned every angle of his face, every one of his boyish smirks.
Of course, there was a part of me that secretly hoped Sinjin would search for me and save me from the agony I now endured every day and night. But as soon as those thoughts surfaced, I had to
Similar Books
