Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I cling to the metal bars and watch in horror as he backs away from the cage, his beautiful, passionate eyes narrowed. “The cuffs and collar are to remind you that you belong to me. That you are my property. And because I cannot trust you.”
His accent is thick as fog, he’s so angry, and I can hardly understand him with the pounding of blood in my ears. I begin to shake, full body tremors overtaking me. He curses in a stream of Russian so furious and heated I can’t decipher a word, then he looks back at me. “The cuffs are to save you from yourself so you do nothing stupid that would force my hand to punish you.” His voice raises in tempo and I crouch, pulling into myself because I can hear not only anger, but hurt in his tone, and it lacerates my heart. Even now, as he rages and fumes at me in a cage at his feet, it tears me apart to hear the way his voice cracks with pain. “The fucking cage is to save you from me!”
I blink, stunned. He wants to hurt me and doesn’t trust himself not to. The cage is not mere punishment or degradation but to save me from what he would do to me in his anger.
Turning on his heel, he goes to his room. I can barely see him, tugging on a pair of shorts before he leaves the room. The door shuts with a clang. I crouch and listen. He’s gone.
I’m all alone. More alone than I’ve ever been in my life. Married to a man who hates me. Wrenched apart from my sister. Friendless. Unloved.
I close my eyes, trying to still the tears that will fall despite the effort I’m making to stop them, but I can’t. I lost everything when I came here. I gave up what little I had to save my sister, who never would have survived these men, this punishment. And I fell for it. I thought I actually meant something to him. I thought I actually mattered.
But I have to work this out. I need to know what he knows, because it will impact what I do next. I have to keep my head on straight.
So even though my heart feels as if it’s been wrenched in two… even though I long to weep until I have no more tears to shed… I compose myself as best I can. I draw in a deep breath and still my breathing.
He didn’t hurt me. He chained and cuffed me to remind me he could, and so I wouldn’t… hurt myself?
The cage is to save you from me.
He’s furious and wants to hurt me, but doesn’t trust he won’t take it too far.
Why? What happened?
How did he discover I called Glen? Did he find Calina?
What will his men do?
If they find Calina… if they hurt her…
I tug fruitlessly at the cuffs and chain, my own helplessness making anger rise in my chest.
If they find Calina, I did this all for nothing. And if I did this all for nothing, then what? That makes him a liar and a cheat. That means he never intended to allow me to pay off my debt to him. Perhaps the purpose of a fucking cage is to teach me to submit. To temper defiance or suffer punishment like an animal. To be objectified and humiliated.
I kneel, my feet tucked into my backside, and raise my head, though the top of the cage presses tightly against my scalp. I draw my shoulders back and refuse to cry. I refuse to beg. In my hurt and anguish, I lost control of myself, but I will not do so again.
I came here to pay the debt of my sister. I’ve succumbed to his punishments. I’ve given him my body. And yes, I called my sister to check on her, but I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment. I gave him my fucking vows and allowed him to make me his wife, and I do not deserve this.
So when he comes back in the room, panting and covered in sweat, likely after trying to work off anger at the gym somehow, I glare at him. I don’t give him the submissive posture he wants. I will not shed one more tear for him. When he steps in the room, I have something to say.
“How dare you!” I say, my voice shaking with the anger that’s grown in his absence.
Swiping an arm across his brow, he stands in the doorway with his arms crossed on his chest, and Christ, I hate it, I fucking hate it, but he’s so stunning standing there like that that it does something to me. All hot and muscled and powerful, like a fucking god. He belongs with the legendary kings and heroes united with Odin in the golden halls of Valhalla. I hate that even now, I’m attracted to him in his beautiful, magnificent fury.