Destined to the Hellhound: BEAST

Chapter 8

My teeth clatter as I sit in the water, trying to cover my exposed chest.

It only takes a moment for the water to turn a murky shade of red as the blood and grime from my body start to spread.

I keep my eyes fixed downward. I'm afraid to look up at him.

"Do you need anything for your back? Alcohol? Numbing cream?" His voice surprises me.

When I look up at him, I feel like I've been stunned by an electric shock. Something about him makes my stomach feel like it's twisting into knots.

He raises his brows, waiting for my answer to his question, but I just look down at the water.

I don't understand why he cares. He cut them off with such ease, with no hesitation or care. Why would he ask if I want something to ease the pain now? I can feel myself getting angrier. How dare he. He took the most precious thing I have, the only thing that was ever really mine.

When he chuckles, deep and rumbling, the slowly building rage surges forward.

"Are you going to let yourself suffer to spite me?"

"Maybe," I snap, angrily pulling myself up out of the water. I don't even care that I'm naked anymore. I climb out of the tub, and search for a towel. The bathroom is empty except for a few centuries worth of dust. "Do I have clothes, or are you planning to hold me here like this?" I look up at him expectantly.

He hums, a smile pulling at his lips. "Either could be arranged."

Fuck him.

"Why am I here?" I'm shocked by my own boldness.

"I told you. You are my prize, my fate. Mine. You were created for me, my perfect match."

My back hits the wall. I hadn't realized that he was stepping toward me with each word.

Suddenly, I care that I'm naked. I really care. His body, though clothed, is much too close to mine.

"I'm not yours. You can hold me captive here, but I am not yours, I don't belong to you!" I cover my chest with my arms. My back is pressed painfully into the wall as he puts his hands on the wall on either side of my head.

An easy smile plays on his lips as he leans down, close enough for his breath to sweep across my cheek. "You're mine, little bird. Your body already knows it. Can you feel it? You're afraid because you think you need to be, but quiet your mind, and look past it. You're not afraid of me."

Bullshit.

I'm terrified.

I think.

My eyes flutter closed, and the slow thump of my heart beats in my ears. My neck throbs, but not painfully.

"I want clothes." I grit my teeth.

His fingers run over my neck, and a shiver rolls down my spine, spreading across my skin. I feel myself leaning into his touch before I realize what I'm doing. With as much force as I can muster, I push my hands into his chest, forcing him back a single step. It's not much, but it's enough to slide away from him.

He kidnapped me. He cut off my wings. He's holding me captive here.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Running back to the room he locked me in, I slam the door closed.

I'm right back where I started!

Screaming, I shove the table, tipping it over onto the floor. The silver tray and domed cover clatter loudly against the ground.