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A silent scream heaves from my lips as I try to run, but Theron captures me by the hair and yanks me back against him. I thrash and fight, trying to twist in his arms and get away, but he’s not having it. He’s not going to let me go, and he’s so strong, I know I can’t really hurt him. That’s why he laughed at the very idea of it.
Hope is a dying ember, but I can’t give up. I throw my head back into his chin, and he grunts before wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing.
“Behave,” he growls. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I claw at his hands, trying to drag air into my lungs as my vision darkens and real fear soaks into my veins, slowing everything. Gradually, I become too weak to fight. My slaps are sluggish, my body boneless, and I know when I start to collapse, I’m screwed.
Theron releases his hold on my throat, and I gasp for air, but my muscles have stopped cooperating. I fall into a useless heap on the floor, my need for oxygen greater than anything else. I can’t even fight him as he drags me over to a leather bench and starts to rip at my clothes.
A solitary tear slides down my cheek as I shake my head violently, but as I do, the room spins, and I nearly pass out again.
“You don’t have to do this,” I croak.
Theron discards my shirt, and then moves onto my pants, dragging them down over my hips along with my thong, leaving me completely bare. His knuckle caresses the length of my back as I try to get up again, and then he slams me back down with the weight of his palm. It knocks the wind out of me, and again, blackness threatens the edges of my vision.
“I know I don’t have to, Mercedes.” He leans down, his voice dark silk against my ear. “But I want to. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
Her Rebellion
The Rite Trilogy Book 2
About This Book
I am a Sovereign Son. A king within The Society.
* * *
With a look I send men to their knees.
* * *
Yet she stands tall against me, taunting me with her rebellion.
But we all have rules we must live by.
Even me.
* * *
And I have broken the most sacred.
I took her to my bed.
I claimed that which did not belong to me.
And now that the beast within has had a taste, it wants more.
1
Judge
I check my watch when the knock comes on my study door. Miriam is prompt, as I expect. “Enter.”
“You wanted to see me, sir?” she asks, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“I did. Come in and close the door.”
“It’s late, sir. I was—”
