AllFreeNovel
Share Us
10
No one tells you how the most minuscule detail might finally break you in two.
I was perfectly fine throughout the entire duration of the drive to tonight’s event, keeping my fury hidden away beneath a placid layer of composure. Quietly watching on, I studied the way we left the compound where I’m being held captive—managing to remain unaffected when faced with nothing but vast darkness stretching before us. We followed a winding, lengthy gravel road, passing through an armed sentry with imposing high gates that indicated the moment we left the grounds and re-entered the outside world.
From what I can tell, the house where I’m being held is miles from anywhere. I’d be trekking for days if I did try to escape, and even then, I’m almost certain to get shot on sight by the ruthless-looking security team dressed in combat gear manning the only exit.
This place might be cloaked in thick forest and perpetual mist, but it is a fortress all the same.
We drive for what seems like an age. Maybe an hour? Thorne is in the front with the Viking who drives us, while I’m locked in the back seat with a rabid creature. Wolf boy bristles with the energy of a frayed wire. He toys with a knife in tattooed hands, sending me a not-so-subtle message: don’t try anything foolish.
I make myself as small as possible, wary of whatever malice he might unleash at any given moment. There’s no mistaking how this man detests me. Out of the three of them, I’m sure he’d gladly slit my throat right here and bury my body in amongst the thick cover of the surrounding pines.
Actually, I’m certain he wouldn’t even bother with that much effort. He’d probably push me out the door, bleeding, while the car was still rolling. Leaving my carcass to be pecked apart by his feathered namesakes.
Eventually, we reach a series of all too recognizable winding roads as we descend into the devil’s mouth itself. My heart rate begins to race the moment ornate iron gates appear before us, illuminated by the vehicle’s headlights.
The entrance to Noire House, in all its familiar, disgusting glory.
My home for the better part of seventeen years.
A hundred-room mansion, rumored to have been built by a king, furnished with chandeliers, priceless antiques, and grotesque people loyal to my father.
We make our way through the grounds, following the lengthy driveway, and finally pull up with gravel crunching beneath the tires.
That’s when my eyes fall on the sight that nearly breaks me. Of all things, it’s the ornate gold door knocker in the shape of a wide serpent’s mouth—completed with bared, glinting fangs—that has me breaking out in a cold sweat.
I don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because I saw that damn thing every day. Maybe it’s due to all the times I heard it knock and prayed it wouldn’t be someone at the door my father would sell me to this time.
Like I say, no one prepares you for that moment some insignificant detail threatens to drown you in a tsunami of terrifying memories.
Each of the men exit the vehicle, but I’m frozen in my seat. Fear and an all-consuming panic keep me rooted in place until my door is wrenched open and a huge hand roughly reaches across my lap to unbuckle my belt. I’m grabbed by the upper arm, and I numbly follow the sight of the calloused palm pressed against my tattoos, up the length of a suit jacket, until I find its owner.
The Norse devil himself.
His touch is warm and grounding in a way that it has no right to be, considering that only an hour or so ago he threatened to have me shackled and dragged through here naked.
“Come.” It’s all he offers, and I really don’t have a choice in the matter. He tugs me to my feet and guides my arm to lock around the crook of his elbow, leading me to my doom. Thorne’s imposing figure moves in front of us, and on my right side, I’m flanked by a prowling wolf in a suit.
To onlookers, it might look like a familiar gesture between lovers. With my arm tucked around his and our bodies nestled together as we make our way toward the vast frontage of Noire House. But, in reality, his touch is a reminder of my purpose here tonight.
With every stride forward, the crushing weight of what they are forcing me to do against my will bears down. Nausea rolls around my stomach like I’m being tossed at sea in a storm.
The sound of rushing blood fills my ears. My fingers feel numb where his hand loosely covers mine. There are people everywhere milling around and making their way inside, all dripping with couture gowns and diamonds.
I remember these events.
The terrible people who frequent them. Ones who hide amongst the elite members of the Anguis.
Whispers start before we reach the first step. They only intensify as we ascend the short flight of stone stairs and reach the imposing front doors.
Holy shit...look.
It’s really her.
The Noire House heir.
I assumed she was dead.
