Destructive Embrace (5 page)

He didn’t mention
why
he wanted to get rid
of his beautiful hair, so I let it go for the moment. “Why did you
want to play with her?” I asked.

A sly smile rose to his
lips, and dread filled my stomach. “Jealous, love? Don’t worry,
I’ll break you before you know it,” he teased. I grimaced.
The bastard…

“Well,” Zeke continued
before I could give him a piece of my mind, “I
really
wanted the haircut, but when
she was finished, I regretted it instantly.”

“So instead of being a grown-up and
accepting your own wrong choice,” I began drily, crossing my arms
over my chest, “you took it out on the poor woman who only did what
you asked of her. Aren’t we mature?”

Zeke glared at me shortly before
sending me an unabashed grin. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you
sure you want to get me all riled up, Elyssa?” he asked. “I’m not
sure you would walk away if I chained you up right now.”

My breathing faltered. Why was he
warning me to back off? Did he really not want to get his hands on
me? With how he always treated me, it was hard to
imagine.

Really?
A small voice questioned me. Vivid memories of my last
‘visit’ to the dungeon invaded my mind.

“I love you…”

I fought to keep my expression blank,
but my heartbeat betrayed me, pounding faster than before. Zeke’s
change of expression told me he’d heard; he grinned at me
wickedly.

“Excited all of a sudden?” he asked,
taking a step toward me. Instinctively, I back up; Zeke continued
his advance until I was backed against a wall. He braced himself
against the wall by placing his arms on either side of me. I held
my breath as he leaned in close, grin fading from his
face.

“Are you afraid of
something, Elyssa?” he asked quietly. His cool breath brushed along
my skin comfortingly, and I released my breath with a sigh. He
smiled – not a smirk or a grin, but a
smile
– and enclosed me in a
hug.

Caught off guard, I began to pull away,
only to be stopped by the wall. Zeke laughed into my ear and
squeezed me harder. I gave in and slipped my arms around his
torso.

The energy in the room changed,
darkening with the weight of… Something. Zeke began to
tremble.

“Zeke?” I asked. My voice warbled. He
pulled away and gripped my arms.

“Why do you want me to have that
journal?” he asked, staring into my eyes. I hesitated. He shook me
once. “Answer me!”

I bit down on my lip in
hesitation.
Was
it
just rubbing it in his face? I didn’t see it that way. “Don’t you
want to know why it all happened? Why he chose Reid?”

Zeke backhanded me. For the briefest
moment, I saw stars, and then my vision cleared. The right side of
my face stung horribly, and I tasted the coppery flavor of my
blood.

“Not only would it rub it
in my face that I didn’t help him, but also the fact that Reid was
our father’s favorite,” Zeke hissed, pulling me away from the wall
to slam me back against it painfully. More stars decorated my
vision as my head slammed against the wall.
Great
, I thought, groaning at the
pain.
I accidentally tapped into his daddy
issues.

I lifted my hands to set them on his
shoulders. As I applied pressure to shove him away from me, he
grabbed my wrists and pinned my hands above my head. “Don’t put
your filthy hands on me,” he whispered.

He’d warned me about pushing him too
far this time, but I’d barely cone anything. “Zeke,” I began,
meeting his gaze. Those eyes were colder than I’d ever seen them
before, and I swallowed nervously. Before I could speak again – not
that I knew what I would say – he swung me away from the wall we
were on, and carried me into the next cell. My struggles did
nothing to slow his process. In fact, with each kick I landed, his
hold strengthened and soon he slammed me against the wall of the
new cell; a sharp pain ran along the length of my back, and I cried
out.

“Ah, such a lovely noise,” Zeke said.
His voice was quiet, almost musing as he shackled me to the
wall.

I began to panic as I wondered how far
he would go to break my spirit. Would he rape me? Or bring me to
the brink of death only to revive me and repeat the process? I
remembered the pain-intensifying serum from before, and cold dread
filled me.

Apparently my face matched how I felt,
because when Zeke’s eyes roamed across my expression, I saw a
certain gleam in his eye.

“Why, you’ve gone pale, Elyssa,” Zeke
said. Nothing but false concern was in his voice, and I narrowed my
eyes at him. “What are you thinking?” he asked as he moved around
the cell, gathering things he’d want to use in my
beating.

“I’m thinking that my wrists are going
to go numb as I dangle here,” I said. My tone was carefully
careless; who knew how easy it would be to set him off
again?

The vampire laughed at me.
“Well, I don’t need you to have feeling in your wrists, so you’re
fine.” Zeke’s voice was teasing, and I gaped at his back; did he
think I was just playing around?
I’m going
to need to figure out a way out of this
, I
thought.
Soon.

My predator began to set
things on top of the table in the cell, and I glanced them over to
try to figure out all he had planned. One ordinary whip sat on the
table, along with another which had three separate tips; a single
vial which held a thick-looking brown sludge was also on the
table.
Good luck getting that down my
throat!

“Ah, before you get it
into your pretty little head to kick me,” Zeke muttered, quickly
ducking down to shackle my ankles. I cursed, realizing I hadn’t
been thinking about my legs. I could have kicked him
already.
But it still wouldn’t free
you
, I reminded myself.

The first strike came while I was lost
in my own thoughts. The sudden biting pain of the whip digging into
my ribs and stomach elicited a gasp from my lips.

It stung more than I cared
to admit, and I bit down on my lip hard. He hadn't hit me that hard
during any session before this... What had I done by angering him
this time?

"Ah, so you aren't as tough
as you would like for me to believe," Zeke taunted me, holding his
whip at his side. The tip barely touched the floor. He lifted it,
swinging it around carelessly. I watched it, trying to guess where
he would hit me next. He noticed my gaze and launched forward,
backhanding me once. "Whatever is going through that pretty little
head of yours," he hissed, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look
up at him, "stop thinking it. You're not going to be able to get
out of this one, my dear."

I ran my tongue out over my
lip, tasting blood. Great. A split lip. "Oh, you don't like that?"
Zeke asked when I glared at him. "Too bad," he bit out, grabbing my
face once more. He forced my mouth open and jammed the opening of
the small vial into my mouth, forcing the disgusting sludge down my
throat. I tried to cough it up before it could all slide down my
throat, but my torturer clamped his hand down over my mouth and
held it there until it was obvious that I'd swallowed the
liquid.

"That's a good girl," he
cooed. I snapped at his hand, baring my fangs at him angrily. He
chuckled and hit me again, reopening the cut on my lip that had
just finished healing. "Enjoy that," he said cheerfully.

I was confused, until the
cut refused to heal itself. My quick mind pieced two and two
together, and four didn't look very pretty right then. "You
bastard." I spat out some blood. "What the hell did that potion
do?" I asked, fighting against my chains. Zeke shrugged, setting
the plain whip down in favor of picking up the triple-tipped
one.

"It slows down the healing
abilities of the one who drinks it. I usually never use it, since
it allows my human toys to die faster, but..." He grinned. "Since
you're a vampire, you'll last much longer. Now shut up and take
what you deserve!" He slashed out at me with the whip, and the
three tips cut into my stomach, chest and hip.

The sharp pain of the hits
took my breath away, but the dull aching as the wounds remained
made me woozy. There was nothing worse than having the ability to
withstand all of this torture and pain, I imagined. I clenched my
fists, digging my fingernails into my palms. When I broke the skin
and more blood spilled from me to trail down my wrists and arms,
Zeke glared at me.

"You are not allowed to
harm yourself, you little bitch," he said, hitting me twice more
with the whip. The lashes dug into my legs and torso and my grip
weakened until my nails no longer dug into my palms. "Much better,"
he murmured, smiling. I glared at him and he clucked his tongue at
me. "What?" he asked, shrugging. "If you're inflicting pain upon
yourself, then you won't feel my lashes as much, and you deserve
nothing less than to feel every biting hit I give you."

His expression was serene,
like nothing would relax him more than being in this cell, beating
the life out of me hit by hit. I tried to read into his expression
more, to see if there was any pain, any weakness that I would be
able to take advantage of. But nothing showed through his mask, and
I braced myself for more beatings.

Zeke stared at my chest
with an amused expression and I glanced down, groaning when I saw
that he'd once again shredded a shirt of mine. "You know, for
someone who detests me, you seem to quite enjoy ruining my clothes.
Before you know it, I'll be running around the castle wearing
nothing at all," I said.

"You should know, Elyssa,"
Zeke said, grinning at me, "that the thought of that doesn't bother
me one bit. However, Olivia may not like it if you spend time with
her Mate in your birthday suit. I'm just saying." He shrugged and I
glared at him. He looked away from my glare in favor of studying my
chest once more.

"You're such a pervert," I
muttered. My face heated, and his gaze snapped up to my face once
more. He appeared puzzled.

"How do you have enough
blood to still blush?" he asked softly. "I suppose I'm being too
soft on you." With that, he hit me three times more, the whip
digging into my flesh three times for each hit.

I screamed as the tips dug
into wounds from previous hits, and Zeke's expression brightened.
The tears in my eyes blurred my vision, but I could easily see the
grin on his face, as well as the happy light in his eyes. "You
screamed," he said, voice wondrous. "Such a lovely
noise..."

I clenched my eyes shut,
letting the tears spill so that when I looked at him again, I could
see him clearly. "Shut the hell up," I growled. I expected him to
hit me again for my backtalk, but instead he crossed his arms over
his chest and leaned his hip against the table. Silence
followed.

My whole body was in pain as I dangled
from the wall. It burned to breathe, and each rise and fall of my
chest aggravated the wounds there.

We’d been staring at one another for a
few solid minutes. I couldn’t figure out why he’d stopped beating
me; not that I was complaining. He half-sat on the table, perched
there like he had all the time in the world; his expression was
unreadable.

“What are you thinking?” he asked me
suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest as he tilted his head to
the side. His quiet behavior threw me off; going from beating me to
a pulp to gazing at me thoughtfully kind of scared me.

“Didn’t you ask me that already?” I
chuckled. Zeke continued to stare at me silently and I sighed. “I’m
not really thinking anything in particular,” I told him. He nodded
once, slowly. When he rose from his place on the table, I tensed,
immediately expecting the flogging to resume.

However, Zeke brought himself to stand
before me, gazing down at me with the most curious of expressions.
I tilted my head back to hold his stare.

Zeke lifted his hands, place one at my
waist as the other travelled to my face. As he trailed his hand up
my body, he lingered an extra moment at my throat before cupping my
cheek tenderly. I winced at the contact as a stinging pain hit me –
his backhanded hits were no joke – but he didn’t let up on the
small pressure.

“What are you –”

His lips on mine cut me off; the hand
cradling my face slid around to fist the hair at the nape of my
neck, pressing me into the kiss with an urgency I’d never felt
before.

Through the pain, a fluttering in my
stomach registered to me and I widened my eyes, staring at Zeke’s
closed eyelids as he kissed me. It felt like a vulnerable, all-in
type of kiss, and my lack of a response caused Zeke to press
against me more.

I gasped in pain as he wound his arm
around my waist and pulled me flush against him. He took advantage
of my weak gasp and slipped his tongue into my mouth.

As I was beginning to give in, his
exploration took a decidedly playful turn as he teased my tongue
with his, and I let out a hiss as I leaned my head away from his.
“Zeke, what –”

“Shh.” He touched my lower lip with his
thumb, brushing it over the spot where it split from an earlier
hit. His gaze was clouded with countless emotions. I parted my lips
under his touch and turned my head to kiss his hand.