Release In The Dark (DARK erotic romance series) (15 page)

In the quiet, listening to
Owen's steady breathing, I realize that this may be the end for me.
Stay with Owen, be his whore, his woman.

And forget Jaxon.

No, I can't. I may be forced to
stay with Owen and have him fuck me night after night, but I can
never, ever forget Jaxon.

I turn and regard Owen's body
with an eerie detachment. I should hate him, but I don't. I have
seen what he has gone through, what he has been forced to do in the
Great Hall of the Palace as the Emperor and his guests jeered and
taunted, and laughed while he slit a fellow Slave's throat. I was
made to watch him service the Empress in her chambers in that endless
night. And thereafter, we were both callously injected with the
serum. He is right. We are both damaged. My eyes flick to the
knives on the table and back to Owen's chest. Maybe plunging a blade
into his heart would be a kind of release for him. But—I can't
bring myself to do it. I am not immune to him. I do feel something
for Owen—pity.

Sadness. And pity.

Despite what he did to me, I
reach down and drag the blanket up over the both of us, tucking him
in gently. I stretch over his broad shoulders and pull the blanket
softly up his chest. He grimaces and murmurs in his sleep and drop
his arm from his face with a grunt. And that's when I see it. His
watch.

His arm is across his chest, the
flashing screen of his watch staring up at me.

My heart thudding, I stare at
the image being relayed over from the holding cell. I recognize the
cell instantly. I recognize that small barred window above the iron
shackles and the number twenty-one painted in black just below the
window. I recognize those rusty, blood stained shackles and
manacles. They were used to pull Jaxon's arms and legs wide apart,
locking him against that dirty stone wall. But these shackles are
now empty!

Jaxon is gone.

Owen must have wanted to keep
constant surveillance on Jaxon, tuning his watch to the security
camera in Jaxon's cell. I don't know how long the cell has been
empty. Has Jaxon been moved to another location, or has he been
rescued? Did he escape? When did it happen? It must have been some
time during the night, when Owen and I were...

I press my hand to my mouth,
staring hard at the screen.

There is a sudden blur of
movement across the screen, and I see soldiers rushing into the cell,
checking the empty shackles and then speaking rapidly into their
watches. I can see their lips moving as they shout to one another
but Owen has muted the sound so I can't hear anything. The screen of
his watch goes black, and a message flashes across in bold red
letters.

“
RED ALERT: MANHUNT
UNDERWAY. ESCAPED PRISONER: JAXON RYLETH.”

The message continues flashing
silently. Owen's watch buzzes as it starts to vibrate on his wrist.
I jerk away and wriggle under the blanket in a hurry. Squeezing my
eyes shut, I turn awkwardly to my side and pretend to be asleep.

Owen sits up abruptly, and my
hand is wrenched upwards. I issue a loud cry and scramble up.
“Ouch! That...hurt!”

Owen is already stabbing his
legs into his pants. “I have to go,” he mutters, not
looking at me.

I am forced to stumble after
him, with my hand still cuffed to his as he lurches madly around for
his belt and weapons. His eyes settle on the handcuff around our
wrists, and there is a brief moment of indecision.

Drag a naked woman around with
him the whole day, or uncuff me? Hmm, decision, decisions. I wait
in silence, careful not to get my hopes up. Whatever it is, he is
not letting me go. That is for sure.

With a growl, he unlocks the
cuff, and I bow my head quickly, trying to hide my relief. Rubbing
my wrist, I tell him in a meek, submissive voice, “I'll wait
here for you, until you return.”

He stares at me, his frown
deepening as his angry eyes tear down my bruised, naked body.
“Soldiers will be coming and going,” he says at last. “I
can't leave you where they can...access you. No one will touch you.
No one,” he repeats, his eyes hardening.

I gulp as he goes over to the
stack of crates and kicks them over. He bends down and pulls
something out from behind the stack. Grunting with the effort, he
drags the item out and stands over it, panting.

It is a metal cage. It looks
like it can house a large dog, just barely.

“
Get in.”

I gawk at him.

“
I said get in!”

“
But...” I sputter
and back away. “This is...”

“
I won't let anyone touch
you!” he growls, and marches over. Pulling me up, he drags me
across the floor and bundles me roughly me into the cage. I struggle
hard, kicking and screaming hysterically, but I am no match for him.
Shoving me in, he slams the cage door and padlocks it.

I am forced to crouch
uncomfortably within the confined space. I can't even stretch my
legs out. Rattling the bars of the cage, I shriek, “Let me
out! Don't do this! I won't...I won't leave. Owen! Please, let me
out!”

He steps back, looking
tormented. “I can't risk it, Zoey. Now that I have you, I
can't let anyone touch you. I...I'll go mad, Zoey. I can't...bear
it! And now...he...” He slams his fist suddenly into the thin
pillar at the side, shaking the whole tent. “I will kill him
myself!”

Ignoring my cries, he finishes
dressing and arming himself with deadly purpose.

I continue screaming and
shouting at him throughout. After fucking me like an animal last
night, he is putting me in a cage—like an animal. I can't let
him do this to me. Last night, I didn't fight him. But now, now
that Jaxon has escaped, I will fight him! He can't hurt Jaxon now.
And I won't let him hurt me anymore.

“
Let me out, Owen! Don't
do this! Let me go!”

Stooping down, he reaches
through the bars of the cage and touches my face. I flinch and jerk
away from him.

“
You know I can't let you
go, Zoey.”

I scrabble back as he tries to
touch me again.

He grabs my wrist and yanks me
to him.

With our faces inches apart,
separated by the black iron bars, I tell him through gritted teeth,
“Then kill me.”

He releases me suddenly, his
face frighteningly blank.

We stare at each other
wordlessly for a long time, but only my breaths can be heard.

Without blinking, without
moving, he asks at last, “Why can't you love me?”

I can only stare at him, unable
to formulate a coherent response. What? What!

“
I love you, Zoey.”

At this, I explode. Lunging
against the bars, I scream, “Shut up! Love? You love me? You
dare to say those words to me? You...have no right! Don't you dare
defile those words!”

Those precious words that
Jaxon said to me. I want to see him again, feel him again. Which I
can never do because of you! Because of you.

My words are choked off as I
start sobbing uncontrollably.

“
I love you, Zoey,”
Owen repeats.

I glare up at him, my vision
clouded with tears. “Let me go,” I whisper. “Please.”

“
No.”

He stands and starts to walk
away.

Stopping abruptly, he turns and
looks over his shoulder at me. His expression is unexpectedly soft
and sad.

“
I will never let you go.”

I swipe away my tears and
answer, “I can never be yours.”

He closes his eyes an instant,
and when he opens them again, the fleeting look of pain and regret
that I had glimpsed in those piercing green eyes a moment ago has
disappeared.

In a cold, clear voice, he says,
“If I can't have you, then—” He grips the hilt of
the dagger at his side.

He turns sharply and steps out
of the tent.

The words that he has left
unsaid hangs in the air long after he is gone.

If I can't have you, then—I
will kill him. And you.

I have been gripping the bars of
my cage for so long and so hard that my fingers seem to have melded
to the metal. I press my forehead against my fists, and just close
my eyes. I am sure the soldiers outside can hear me, but no one
comes to my aid. No one dares to disobey the brutal orders of
Commander Owen Vesparr.

No one is to touch me. Or help
me. No matter what.

Owen has locked me in the cage
like an animal. No, not even like an animal. Even animals are given
food and water in their cage. But Owen has left me with nothing.
Not a shred of clothing to cover myself. Not a bottle of water. Not
my dignity. Nothing.

Perhaps he is trying to starve
me, drain me, break me so that I won't have the energy to try to
escape. Wear me down mentally, emotionally and physically.

The shouts and sounds outside
the tent seem to have subsided. I thought I heard the sounds of
rapidly departing footsteps and the fading drone of motorcrafts
earlier, but I can't be sure. The buzzing in my ears grow louder and
louder as my empty stomach churns and growls.

But through my hunger and
thirst, I manage to feel a quiet thrill. Jaxon has escaped! Jaxon
is alive, and free.

My cracked lips form a smile,
even though it hurts to smile.

Don't forget me, Jaxon.
Because I will never forget you.

I sink down, and close my eyes.
Is it evening yet? Or is it night already? Should I care?

I hear some footsteps.
Instantly, I force my eyes open and blink through the bars. The tent
is shrouded in darkness, so it has to be full dark outside. The camp
outside is deathly quiet. No one seems to be around.

But I can sense a presence in
the tent.

I am not alone.

Out of the corner of my eye I
see a shadow move. I turn towards the movement but I can't see
anything in the darkness. When I turn back, a figure is crouching in
front of my cage.

I let out a small scream. “Who
are you? Leave me alone!”

The man is dressed in the black
uniform of a soldier, with his soldier's cap pulled low over his
face. A soldier, who has sneaked into his Commander's tent while his
Commander is away. I doubt his intentions are noble. Maybe he is
here to steal something. Or—rape me. I'd caught many
covetous, curious looks being thrown at me, eyes lingering on my
tattered, skimpy outfit as Owen dragged me through his camp to his
tent.

The soldiers must have heard the
noises coming from their Commander's tent last night and one, or more
of them must have decided that after the Commander was done with me,
they'd come in and help themselves to the leftovers.

I stare at the looming figure in
front of my cage, and am just about to scream again when he rears
back with a massive rock in his hand. I scramble back as he hoists
the rock and starts to smash in the padlock. The bars of my cage
shudder under the ferocity of his assault.

His strength is formidable. He
attacks the lock with a single-mindedness that seems to be borne of
rage. The knuckles on his huge hand are raw and bleeding, but still
he doesn't let up.

I curl myself into a tight ball
at the far corner of the cage, afraid of this terrible stranger,
whose face I am unable to make out in the shadows. His violent
movements make it impossible for me to discern his facial features.
All I can see is his arm drawing back and whirring down with that
murderous rock, again and again. I catch a glimpse of his white,
bared teeth, and hear his rapid, shallow breathing as he attacks my
cage relentlessly. This man is intent on breaking the cage and
reaching me. Weakened and naked, alone and unarmed, I have to admit
that I look too easy. Much too tempting, for any soldier who has
been in this secluded camp for weeks and months.

I cover my ears as he attacks
the lock with raw strength and speed. With the deafening, shuddering
sound reverberating all around me, I expect other soldiers, or even
Owen, to come charging in at any moment, guns blazing to mow down
this rogue soldier. But no one comes into the tent. I can't hear
anything beyond the sound of his rock smashing against that stubborn
lock.

With a final clang, the lock
falls apart. The door of my cage swings open and he reaches in to
pull me out.

“
T-thank you,” I
stammer, not quite sure if he should be considered friend or foe.
But he got me out, right? So, possibly, hopefully friend. For now.

I take a shaky step forward,
weaving my way towards the exit, but it seems that the ground is
listing all of a sudden, tilting and rocking as if I am on a ship. I
stretch out my hand, and the man grabs it and pulls me to him.

I pummel him instinctively. Is
he going to transform from rescuer to rapist right now? Is he going
to rape me, then kill me? Why else would this soldier risk
everything to get a helpless, naked girl out of a cage?