[THIS STORY WILL BE TAKEN DOWN ON SEPTEMBER 30, 2024]
He had hunted me, captured me, and locked me in a tower.
Season 3 'Of Crows and Thorns'
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While in RISING, Tabitha discovers something peculiar that may assist Nelle in her plan to escape the...
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Fear pressed a chilled hand above my heart. My breath thinned and quickened. All the fine hair on my body rose. How long I stood there gaping at Jett, I had no idea. All my thoughts were caught in a terrifying undercurrent from which I couldn't escape
The Emporium.
A courtesan.
Sweat beaded on the top of Jett's lip and gleamed in the dim light as he curved his mouth into a condescending smile. He was enjoying this. Dislike was too weak a word for how he felt for me. He loathed me. Utterly. Intensely. He had to have to subject me to something so abhorrent. Tulle grazed my trembling hands. The dress fluttered around my figure as I jittered on the spot, my gaze darting toward the shadowed foyer. An escape.
What was I going to do?
I needed Graysen to put a stop to this.
But he wasn't here.
Hells, hells, hells.
It slowly filtered through my mind. An answer. Graysen, I realized, wasn't here.
I became as still as the stone block I stood upon. My gaze sliced back to Jett who stood before me, staring coldly back with narrowed eyes and distaste carved deeply into his features.
As of yet, I wasn't 20, and according to the amendments made to the Alverac, Graysen was the only one with authority over me when I was in his company. I didn't have to yield to the rest of his family. I didn't need to put up with this vileness.
Boldness flowed through me as hot and fierce as steel armor forged by flame and hammer and anvil. It warmed my flesh, burned away my distress, and strengthened my resolve. I pinched the skirt between my fingers and raised it haughtily. My toes met the edge of the pedestal as I shifted forward, intending to step down.
Jett tut-tutted me. "Don't even think about it, Wychthorn. You stay right there."
My nostrils flared as I glared down the length of my nose at him. "You can't make me. Under the terms of the Alverac, I'm under Graysen's authority when he's present." I lifted the skirt higher. "Clearly, he's not here." I went to lower myself from the pedestal when Jett moved fast.
All of a sudden he was right beside me reaching for the rope. In a deft twist of his hand, the cord wound around his wrist like a python. The noose tightened around my throat and my head was yanked back. A flash of raw pain stung my flesh, and a claustrophobic sensation pressed against my windpipe with the threat of denied oxygen. Jett stood so close his breath washed against my cheek. His voice was whisper-soft. "You dare take another step and I'll keep hold of this noose like a leash, Wychthorn, as if you were my little pet rat I wanted to take on a walk." He leaned back so I could see him clearly, and arched an eyebrow. "Is that what you'd like?"
