“I would break every bone in my body if it meant getting the truth!” I hear the axe slide from the floor as someone behind me picks it up. The handle connects with my skull, and pain ricochets through my head causing everyone around me to start to spin. I try to steady myself before my limbs go numb.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Catarina
The hallway is silent as I walk toward Fenris’ office. Well, silent except for the sharp click of my shoes, each growing louder, drowning out everything but the mounting dread in the air. There’s something sitting on my chest that only seems to grow the closer I get. I take a deep breath and try to push it aside. Is this about the necklace? Did Zed say or do something? I stop just outside the door.
Harold stands beside it. I’ve never studied his face up close before. He has deep, sharp lines that define his features like a jagged sculpture. Dark hair, cold eyes. His lip is busted, and his knuckles are wrapped. Harold opens the door, and I hear Fenris speak, “Catarina, enter.” Harold presses his hand to the door, and I see the blood seeping from the cotton as he twists the handle and pushes it open more before ushering me inside. The office is dim, the air thick with the scent of leather and frankincense.
Fenris is seated on the couch, his posture is relaxed, but his eyes are anything but. A predator watching its prey. I force my legs to keep walking as the door is shut behind me. He gesturesfor me to sit next to him, his fingers curling toward the empty seat.
My skin crawls the closer I get. I want to run. I want to turn and flee before I have to face whatever is going on. I can feel my pulse in my throat, beating hard. Should I leave? Should I just—No. I can’t. I keep walking and finally reach the couch.
“Sit with me,” he commands, his voice sounding like he’s amused, like he knows exactly what’s going through my mind.
I lower myself carefully onto the couch, the cool velvet pressing against my palms. My hands rest on my lap, but I can’t get rid of the tension in my body. Fenris’ voice cuts through the small space between us. “Zed has sacrificed so much for you. You should be grateful for that.”
“He’s shed blood to get to this moment. To you.” His smile is slow, the corners of his lips sharpening as he shows all of his teeth.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
Fenris shifts beside me. “He didn’t tell you? We made a deal. Brady was supposed to get you. But Zedediah’s desires know no bounds. He killed Brady to get rid of his competition.” Wait, Brady’s dead? I don’t have a second to absorb what he’s saying because he’s directing my attention to a TV in the corner when he picks up a remote. “Let me show you the type of man your fiancé truly is.”
Fiancé?
“Zedediah told you about Lucy, I’m sure?” He almost poses this as a question and a statement; it confuses me. “Yes, I see it in your face. You know her name. I’m sure he told you how terrible it was. The pain. How despicable me and my men were. But…” He lets the space drag out between us. “I’m sure he didn’t tell you everything.”
He presses play. The television shows a video, the camera angled in a corner looking down. I see a naked woman, who Ican only assume is Lucy, on the television with a bag over her head, being led by Harold, Brady, and Zedediah before making their way to a table. Are those chains? The screen is fuzzy, and I’m not sure if it’s the quality or if her body is shaking as much as the video makes it seem. They bend her body over the table top, laying her on her stomach. I’m going to throw up.
Harold and Brady step away, but Zedediah stays. He turns his head and nods. It looks like he’s taking instructions from someone… I’m sure that someone is Fenris but I can’t see. It only shows the table and the ten or so feet around it. He walks to each corner of the table, securing her wrists first, then bending down and securing her ankles to the floor before he finishes binding her torso to the table with a belt around her waist locking into place. I can only see her red hair once Zed removes the bag and is handed something. He brings it to her neck. Did he just inject her with something? My eyes are dry, and I try to blink but it doesn’t help.
She isn’t thrashing, she just remains still like she’s just been drugged. My eyes recognize the carpet. This has to be the fellowship hall. Nausea washes over me when I think about the things Zed and I did, in the same place. Questions run through my mind, like was she the only one this happened to? I highly doubt it. Zed looks down at the bag he removed from her head, his chest rising and falling rapidly. But his face is void of any expression.
It doesn’t even look like the Zed I know. This could easily be the version of him I saw earlier. Is his quickened breathing due to anger or excitement? I wouldn’t even be able to guess. My mind races, consumed in panic.
Was this all a game to him? Am I about to be the girl on the table? Zed looks up and walks out of frame. A few seconds go by before someone walks into frame and centers themself behind her. It’s Brady again; I watch as he messes with something infront of him. I swallow down bile that’s burning the back of my throat. He’s unbuckling his belt before I see both ends fly out to his sides. He fidgets for another second before sliding his pants down in one motion. He’s not wearing underwear. I squeeze my eyes shut as he grabs her hips. “I can’t. I won’t watch that,” I whisper before looking at Fenris. Something is building in my stomach, and I don’t mean the sickness.
It’s anger.
I squeeze my eyes together and he scoffs before forcing out a laugh. “The fun hasn’t even started yet. Come on, open them.” I feel him nudge my arm with his before pushing away. “Fine.” I hear the light sound of him putting down the remote. “You know, before you arrived, I gave Zedediah an order,” Fenris whispers, his breath warm against my skin. “I told him to break you; to make you his.”
“I’m sure you wanted to run, to leave. But, I told him to claim you.” I don’t respond and my body tenses at his words slithering through me, digging under my skin.
“Isn’t that what you are, Cat? His?” I don’t like the sound of my nickname coming from his mouth; it sounds wrong—like he’s taunting me with it. For the first time in my life, I don’t even know what to say. I just want to cry. His fingers trail along my arm, just a brush of contact from him sends a jolt of repulsion through me. “You’re used to it, I’m sure. Used to being Zedediah’s little plaything. You won’t have any problem with being mine for the night, will you?”
“You’re mistaken,” I say sharply, my voice gaining some strength. “I belong to no one.”
The moment I stand his hand snaps out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back down toward him. The heat of his touch sears through me, and I wince and pull back. “You don’t get to make that choice anymore,” he says softly. “Not whenZed’salready chosen for you.” I try to pull my wrist free, but his griptightens. “He told me everything, Cat. Everything about you. About your willingness to bend, to break. You’re not as innocent as I thought, you know.” He leans closer, his breath brushing my ear. “You can be mine tonight.” I twist in his grip, my pulse racing, and I shake my head.
“You’re lying. Zed wouldn’t?—”
Fenris’ laugh cuts me off, sharp and cold. “Don’t you believe me? Maybe you will, soon enough.” His voice drops lower, hitting like a punch to the gut. “I know you like this, Cat,” he says, his lips barely brushing my ear. “You like the struggle; the fight. Zed told me how you fight, how you beg for release. How you need it.” My head whips back and forth. I won’t believe him. I can’t. A moment passes and the fight in me rises to the surface.
I push against his chest, shoving him away, but he’s stronger than I expected. We fall from the couch, our bodies hitting the floor with a loud smack. I gasp when he rolls on top of me and his body presses me into the hard floor. The movement of our fall causes the record player to begin playing.
Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.
“You think you can fight me?” Fenris sneers. “Zed’s had enough fun with you. I’m just going to show you what true submission feels like.”
