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We don’t hurt women, Damon’s voice whispers in my mind again.
Damon’s a Solveig alpha through and through.
“Come along, then,” Alistair says, breaking me out of my thoughts. “It’s quite late already.”
I follow the old, hobbling man.
Glancing back, I look toward Damon. The strangest feeling takes root inside me. Why do I feel uncomfortable that he’s no longer at my side?
I shake myself internally, forcing myself to focus on where I’m going. Now that Damon handed me over to Alistair, I doubt he’d care what happens to me.
Be positive, I try telling myself as the urge to cry overwhelms me.
Maybe this is a temporary situation.
Mom and Dad may eventually come back with the money and free me? Maybe I just had to hold on a little longer?
Alistair leads me down a dimly lit hallway. Ancient portraits of royal guards in battle line the walls. Moving to the end of the corridor, he opens a door.
“This room’s going to cost you zero money,” he says.
I peer inside the darkened interior. Stepping closer, I realize it’s just a storeroom for cleaning material and broken furniture.
Cobwebs hang from the ceiling. I don’t even see a window. There’s barely any space to move around but a cot lies in the corner.
“What a lovely suite,” I say in a scathing tone.
“Your claws come out the moment your master’s gone,” Alistair scoffs.
“Damon’s not my master!” I snap. Breathing hard, I struggle to rein in my temper. “Is there a light switch at least?” I say, stepping inside the dusty interiors.
“That’s for you to find out.” He stays outside while I desperately feel along the walls to find a switch.
I almost run out of hope before I finally find it. To my dismay, the only light here is a dim bulb.
“I guess you can settle in, then,” says the old man, shuffling away. “You must be up by six tomorrow. Not a minute late or I’ll dock your pay. Have a good fucking night.”
“You too!” I mutter.
Left alone, the room feels awfully quiet and lonely. The broken furniture piled around throws jagged, spiky shadows on the walls, darkening the space further.
I hug myself for warmth and comfort. The thought of spending the night here is unbearable but what could I do?
My tired, exhausted body wants to lie down. One look at the bed and I know it’s not an option. The sheet is layered with thick dust and who knows what’s breeding inside the mattress.
I settle down at the foot of the bed and lean against the wall. My limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. I can barely think anymore. A heavy veil seems to fall over me, lulling me into a doze.
I reach into my back pocket to get my phone but my hand comes away empty. At some point after entering the house, I must’ve dropped it.
Ethan would find me missing at work tomorrow. He’d call me and I won’t answer. He’d get worried and eventually visit my home. He’d neither find me nor my family.
Would he forget about me too?
I close my eyes, too tired to even curse my luck.
6
Iris
