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The door opens from behind me and I jump, spinning around to see who it is. A tall woman stares back at me through oval eyes. She has long black hair, a tight, lean body, and nails that look sharp enough to kill.
Her eyes flash the color of crystal and she throws her hand out.
A sharp ache starts in my throat and works its way down. She closes her fists and my lungs squeeze, the pain crippling and sending me to my knees.
I fight for air, but nothing.
Panic sets in and I grip at my throat, climbing to my feet as water pricks at my eyes.
The woman cocks her head, and the moment her hand falls to her side, I collapse, gasping and choking in place.
“What—” She pauses when she scans over my body. “—has he done.”
My mouth opens and then closes. Fear drags its talons down every nerve in my body when she takes another step closer to me. My fight-or-flight kicks in and I stumble backward slightly.
“Who are you?” I rush. “Where am I?”
Her eyes narrow, and while it’s clear she’s hostile and confused, there’s also something else about her. Her aura is strong. The woman reads almost…haunted, but what or whom, I don’t know.
Where the fuck am I?
“Hmmm.” She shimmies farther into the room, lowering herself down onto the single sofa tucked in the corner. She pins me with her stare. “I’m the mother, and I’m guessing you’re the Giftless toy my son has taken a liking to.”
“The what?” I bat my lashes so hard they fan out over my cheeks.
She stares back at me as if she’s not going to bother repeating herself. She doesn’t look like the type of person to repeat herself. “Interesting…”
I step backward farther until my back crashes with the curtain. “What is?”
“You.” Her eyes swirl as she slowly lifts herself up from the sofa. I should run. I know I should run. Everything inside of my body is screaming at me to do one thing. “You should not be in this room.”
Run.
The door bursts open again, and he stands on the threshold. “Get out, Mother.”
The two of them hold eye contact for a tense moment before she slowly sashays out of the room, not a second glance over her shoulder, and then the door is closed.
“What am I doing here, Knight?” I stare up at him and he slowly leans back against the door.
“Not leaving.”
Unease scrapes across my spine, and I clench my teeth a moment so I don’t lose my shit.
“What are you?” I ask the question that has been sitting on my mind since the day he and his brother exposed themselves.
“You ask that like I’m going to tell you.” He moves across the room, his arm brushing mine when he meets the curtain, moving it out of the way. An air of comfort washes over me and it makes no sense, so I do my best to block it out. I’m really good at blocking things out.
“Get comfortable,” he says, tossing a bag onto the bed. “You’ll be staying here until I say.”
“I’ll run away,” I whisper, inching around to get closer to the door. The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk.
“Yeah?” He slowly turns to face me, pinning me with a stare. “Go on then. Make my day and run.”
I swallow, but it only feels like sand. “I don’t understand, Knight! You can’t just…keep me here. I have an uncle—friends! I need to go back to them or they’ll think I’m dead.”
He shrugs. “They still could be right. The night is young and my patience is yet to be tested.” He closes the distance between us, bringing his hand to my chin and forcing my face up to his. “They know you’re fine, London. Sit the fuck down and wait this out.”
My fingers flex at my sides. “Where are we?”
His eyes bore into mine for a long moment, and I almost think he’s going to soften. That I’m not imagining the tenderness buried deep behind those brilliant blues, but then he blinks, and just like that, I’m staring into the eyes of a psycho. An angry one.
“You’re in my world now.” Knight roughly releases my chin. “Welcome to Rathe.’’
Before I can ask him another question, he’s gone.
Blowing out a breath, I think over my current options.
I don’t have any.
Quickly tearing into the bag he set down, I pull on leggings and a matching cropped hoodie, sliding my feet into the simple runners as well, ignoring how everything is exactly the right size.
I rush to the other side of the room, my hand coming to the handle. Twisting it, I feel it slip as I pull it open. In a matter of a month, my world has completely shifted. I don’t know what is right and what is left. Up or down.
