I slap his arm and turn my head to bite his wrist. He hisses through his teeth but doesn’t move away. I don’t know how long I freak out and scream for Jaxon, but my throat hurts and my voice goes out.
“You done?” the man growls. He whips me around, shoves my back against the car, and forces me to wrap my legs around his waist as he lifts me. Even though it’s dark out, I still notice the hunger in his dark eyes as I wiggle against him.
“No!” I sniffle from the unwanted tears. “If my brother doesn’t kill you first, then I will. I hope you know that.”
He tilts his head to the side as he considers my warning, then slowly blinks. “I don’t doubt you.” He leans in until his cold mask brushes against my nose and I’m looking straight into his eyes. “You’re still my wife, and you’re mine. No man, not even your brother, will stop me.”
He lowers me, and I dig my boots into the ground as he drags me to the front door. The whole way, I’m cussing and calling him names, hoping something sticks and offends him, but he’s unbothered. If anything, he seems pleased about it. I don’t know why, unless he has a degradation kink.
A security guard stands near the front door. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him until now. He turns to us and briefly glances at me with a bored look before he turns to my kidnapper.
“Please help me,” I say, raising my voice. “This man kidnapped me!”
The guard swivels his attention back to me and raises his bushy eyebrow. “And?”
My jaw drops. My worry about this place being a cult for old rich men was right.
He jerks his chin toward my kidnapper. “Need to scan.”
The masked man turns me with him as he gives the security guard his back. The guard raises a scanner and clicks the button, making it beep as it scans a barcode on the nape of the masked man’s neck. My kidnapper stares at me the whole time, and once the machine dings, the guard opens the door and waves us in.
As I’m dragged past the security guy, I snarl, “I’ll be sure he kills you, too.”
He scoffs and turns his back to me. “Not if I kill him first.”
The inside is larger than the outside. As I look through the crowd, I notice that the back of the cabin overlooks the lake, which I would have admired if someone hadn’t kidnapped me and brought me here against my will. The dim lights in here make it moodier and more seductive as masked people dance, drink, and fuck. Bass thumps through the speakers, vibrating straight into my bones.
My kidnapper guides me through the house and into what I’m assuming is the living room. My head swivels as I look at each person, hoping they’ll see the terror on my face. A few people look at me, but they show no concern.
I’m screwed. There’s no one here to save me, and it’s up to me to get out of this.
A flash of red near the ceiling catches my attention. As my gaze rises, my lips part in surprise. Scarlet silks hang from the beams, with acrobats weaving through them to the beat of the song.
The further we walk into the building, the more thesinking feeling in my gut grows. It’s consuming me, and a strange sense of seeing this happening before fills my mind.
We pass a large table with champagne flutes, and my stomach threatens to empty itself when I look up. Men and women hang above the drinks, blood dripping from their slit throats to the glasses below.
“Oh god,” I whisper.
What in the house of horrors is this? Is this my fate? Is my kidnapper going to use me, then slit my throat to bleed out in their drinks? I swear to god, if there’s life after death, I’ll haunt his ass and make sure he regrets what he does to me every single second.
The masked man guides me to the back of the cabin and into a room full of shelves lined with old books. A bearskin rug—complete with attached head—sprawls over the wooden floor for the comfort of these shitty rich people. Three masked men sit on leather recliners by the fireplace. They raise their heads and look at me, then my kidnapper.
I don’t need to be a part of this group to know these men are the leaders. The way they carry themselves, with their shoulders drawn back as they relax in their seats, screams power.
“I come bearing gifts,” my kidnapper says.
I whip my widening eyes to him, and my mouth dries. “Gifts?”
One of the men leans back in his seat, folds his hands in his lap, and steeples his thumbs. “And what do you plan on sacrificing, Dahlia?”
I face the three large men who bore a hole in my face with their gazes. I swear I can’t breathe through this panic. “You know my name?”
The one who spoke dips his chin and pauses his steepling. “We all know who you are.”
I wait for them to explain, but they don’t.
“This is your chance,” my kidnapper whispers as he positions himself behind me and leans down until his mask is right beside my head. “Prove your loyalty to them and pledge yourself to the Exodus.”
