Fiona
Next thing I knew, I was lying flat on the bed in the downstairs guest room of my parents’ house. It was dark in the room, but light spilled in from the open door to the brightly lit hallway. My father stood in the doorway, his large frame silhouetted against the yellow light, speaking quietly with the man who had held my head underwater.
Trying to remember whether they had drugged me again or if I’d simply blacked out in the bathroom, I kept my body still and my breathing even, so they would keep thinking I was unconscious.
“Return her to him tonight, so he won’t become suspicious. And be careful not to be seen.”
My father didn’t realize that I could hear every word he was saying.
“I’ll get her to comply, one way or another.”
The other man grunted quietly. “Seems pretty strong, that one,” he said in a low whisper. “A fighter.”
Father said nothing in response to that. He began to turn around, so I clamped my eyes shut tight.
I heard slow footsteps coming toward me. One set, and then two. Some rustling noises. And then that soft towel was over my mouth and nose again, hitting me with another rush of that stuff that made my body go numb and my vision tunnel into blackness.
This time it took me out faster. I could barely open my eyes a tiny sliver. When I did, I saw my father on a sideways angle, looking me dead in the eye and giving me a smug, knowing smile.
I came to in the backseat of the car, strapped upright with the seatbelt.
My neck was sore, aching as I straightened it out, making me wonder how long I’d been out and hunched over in that position.
And I had a dull, worrying ache in my stomach. My eyelids were heavy, though with every passing moment I was starting to wake up more and more. I felt for my hands and succeeded in wiggling my fingertips. I was surprised to find they weren’t bound with restraints.
The driver noticed I was awake, and gave a sharp look into the rearview mirror, making eye contact with me. We were alone in the car.
“Don’t even think about trying anything,” he said. He kept his right hand on the wheel and lifted the left one. In it was a gun. “Just stay calm and you’ll be back home with your boyfriend in no time.”
I shivered as the feeling started returning to my limbs. The words this man was spewing did not merit a reply. I turned to look out the window and recognized the shapes of the trees as we approached the front of the palace.
The car stopped abruptly, though, well ahead of where the cars usually pulled up to, and suddenly the man twisted around in his seat, aiming the gun directly at my head.
“Out,” he said, pointing to the back passenger door with the gun. “Now.”
I did not need to be told twice.
But my legs were not working at full strength yet and I had to pause, shrinking to rest on my knees on the soft turf of the palace lawn, for a few seconds as the drug continued wearing off. I blinked away a few bright spots that were circling my head like birds, willing myself not to pass out.
And then after just a few more staggering steps, suddenly my whole body felt back to normal.
It was strange, how quickly the effects of the drug wore off, almost like a spell had been broken. I lifted a hand to feel my hair. It had dried but was a tangled mess. I started combing through it with my fingers and searched my pockets for something I could use to tie it back into a bun.
The last remnants of the sun were fading down below the horizon by the time I was back in the West Wing, heading for our room. The arched hallways felt eerily quiet.
I pulled my key from my purse, feeling the bulge in the zippered pocket where I had stashed my father’s letter. Crap—I’d forgotten to find somewhere else to put that today. Unlocked, the door swung open before me and I stepped inside, feeling the relief of safety at last.
And then I turned on a light and saw Alexander sitting silently in a chair beside the window, looking at me with golden eyes wide with concern.
“Where were you?” He rose and crossed the room to meet me near the doorway. He put one hand on my arm, and I felt heat coursing from his touch immediately.
I hesitated. I had forgotten to prepare for what to say to him. How I was going to explain my absence.
Because I wasn’t going to tell him the truth. I couldn’t implicate my father in this, his latest crime against me.
It was the same scenario as the letter, all over again. Was I really going to give Alpha Alexander the fuel he needed to ignite the fire of murderous rage against my father? I still did not know what had happened between them. But I was pretty sure that if I told my fiancé about how I had spent my day today, my father’s life would be in serious, imminent danger.
The longer that I paused, my mouth agape as I searched for what to say, the more Alexander’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“I was with Nina,” I said. It was a flat lie, and one that could easily be proven false, but it was the only thing I could think to say. “We met up after I visited Grandfather. I must have lost track of the time while we were talking. I’m so sorry I kept you waiting and forgot to call.”
I stepped forward into the room, zipping my purse closed before I placed it carefully on a chair. I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall and ventured a cautious glance. It did not seem like there was any visible evidence of what had just happened to me. Nothing that my father had done to hurt me had left a mark.
I could see in his eyes that Alexander didn’t believe me. But I met his gaze and held it.
He knew I was lying. All I could do was stand in silence, resolute against explaining myself any further. But my body started to betray the trauma that I had been through… I was weak, and suddenly the façade of calm, collected confidence I had been showing him was crumbling to dust.
“Hey, come here.”
The golden God was holding me in the next moment. I guess he thought I was going to collapse. And maybe I was.
I’d been feeling strangely energetic ever since the sedative had worn off after I clamored out of my captor’s car. But now I understood why – I had been in shock. But now that I was safe, and my body knew that, the pain of it all finally me at last.
Alexander’s energy softened once we touched. He could feel how much I needed his strength. He wrapped me up tight in his arms, tucking my head underneath his chin. I was shaking like a leaf. He pressed his lips to the top of my head gently, swiped a blanket off the foot of the bed, and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
A stubborn tear forced its way down my cheek. I pressed it dry against his shirt and pleaded with my body to keep any more of those inside.
