Beautiful Torture *Book Two of the Beautiful series*

19) The Attack

*Violent sexual scene ahead. Readers be advised, you may find skip without missing anything too important.*

Lucy went numb.

The blood recoiled from her fingers and toes, pulling up to her heart and then pushing back out with a sharp rush of adrenaline that made her body sing with fear. There was thunder in her ears and a terror so potent she could taste it. Metallic and bitter. It tainted the air between them, and the dark haired monk breathed it in with a knowing smile.

He was a hunter.

She was his prey.

He advanced forward and the shadows from the lit torches played over his cloying features. Everything about him looked sinister and severe, from his deadly sharp cheekbones to the muscles threading beneath his arms.

Strong, Lucy thought. He looks too strong to be a monk scholar.

She had known from the moment she laid eyes on him, witnessed the burning hate on his face, that he was dangerous, but she never imagined the danger to come so suddenly. She had stupidly thought that after the drama in Bone, the gods owed her a few days comfort and respite. But that was where she went wrong.

The gods owed her nothing.

She blinked and forced herself to move. To kick off the side of the pool and make a desperate attempt for the other end where the waterfall poured in from an opening in the wall of the mountain. "You should not be in here," she said, trying to keep her tone even and unafraid. She needed to maintain a semblance of control.

The man smirked. As he moved closer still, she could see a scar off center splitting his lower lip, and that his eyes were an unnerving misty gray. The wickedness and pure cruelty in them did not seem right on a face that was otherwise pleasing. He reached the edge of the pool, his sandaled toes stopped just before falling off the edge, and crossed his arms.

"You are the one who should not be here, Luciana." His voice was slippery and cunning, flashing Lucy to thoughts of a fox that used to plague the grounds at Granston House. The little beast plucked off chickens, ducks, rabbits... anything it could sink its teeth into. "You are an abomination. A curse wrapped in pretty skin, here to lull us into submission before you strike our exposed necks."

His words echoed through the chasmic room. She shuttered hard and crossed her arms tightly over her bare breasts, hoping the shadowed water was enough to keep him from seeing anything lower. It was tempting to scan around for any sort of weapon that could help her, but she did not dare look away from the man. She felt he would attack the moment she tried.

No, it was best to keep him talking. Distracted. While in her head, she reached for the tethers that bound her to Hunter, sending out a call for help.

"You are wrong," she shot back, struggling not to say it with a growl. She did not want to make him angry, not while being so vulnerable, but she was not about to take his harsh words lying down. "I am going to help you. All of you. Once I learn to control my powers–"

His jaw tightened and he nearly snarled, "We do not need your help. There is nothing a woman could offer us that we cannot achieve on our own. You are a fool like your mother before you. She should have been executed for her treason. For breaking our oldest laws. But no, she was spared. You were spared. And as a result, you now have that thing growing inside of you. It is a threat to us all. Bigger than any threat Endon could pose!" He sounded angry but his eyes stayed unnervingly cool. They were calculating and drinking in every inch of Lucy that she could not hide beneath the pool tide. But the look was layered–mixed with something else. Something darker lurking under it. And it frightened Lucy even more.

Despite wanting to keep her chest covered, she could not help but drop her arms to fold around her stomach. This man spoke of her baby like he was a twisted ugly creature that he would harm, given the chance. She would never allow that. She would fight to the death, whether she had control of her powers or not. "I think you should leave," she countered fiercely, letting her temper flare unchecked. "Now."

"Or what?" his voice was full of mocking laughter. She watched his hand slip to the crimson cincture that held his black robes closed. One tug and it fell open, exposing a pale, muscled torso littered with scars. She realized in horror what he meant to do. He was going to climb into the pool with her, trap and drown her. She needed to act.

It all happened very fast. His robes slithered off his wide shoulders. His tall frame went darting into the deep pool. Lucy uttered a short scream, scrambled for the water-slick edge and heaved herself up onto the narrow clef between this pool and the one next to it. She would have to run the length of it to get past him and out the door. There was only one exit she could see. The water made the stone incredibly slippery, but she dared to sprint anyway. She raced along the tapered path and made it almost past the end of the other side when his strong hand shot out and caught her ankle, jerking her sideways with a powerful tug.

The room shifted beneath her. Her arms flailed as she rocketed backwards before slamming into the solid stone floor onto her back. The base of her skull bounced with a sharp crack that darkened her vision. Pain exploded along her spine. He pulled again, still gripping her ankle, and she was once more in the steaming water. This time not alone.

His touch was everywhere at once. First, he pulled her down under the pool's depths. He gathered her wrists together and used his other hand to grip the side of her neck where it met her shoulder and forced her beneath the surface, holding her there until she thought her lungs would burst. Until she was sure it was the end. He was going to kill her and her unborn son. She would die without saying a final farewell to the man she loved most in the world. The man she had been cold and cruel to over the last week. Regret filled her whole body along with the fiery sensation of no air in her lungs. Just as she was starting to faint from it, he let her up, dragging her above again where she sputtered and coughed water from her throat. She could not scream. She could hardly breathe. The water was turning red with blood from where she had cracked her head on the stone.

"Breathe," he said darkly and pressed her limp body into the pool side so she was trapped between it and his chest. His large hand ran through her tangled hair and down to her neck where he squeezed slightly before reaching the other up to cup her breast. Leaning forward, he buried his nose into the side of her head, inhaling. She felt him tremble against her and the urge to vomit intensified. She sucked in another deep breath and expelled more water from her lungs.

"That is it, deep breaths. I want you awake for this."

Lucy could hardly register what was happening. She was aware of his hands. Of how his touch made her insides coil and fester. She called for Hunter again, in her mind, and yearned for her destructive power, but hitting her head so hard had weakened her. The monk moved his hand from her throat to her chin. He forced her struggling body still and smashed his damp lips against hers. She could taste her salty blood mixed with the water. His tongue flicked out and he used his hips to force her legs open. She felt him pressed against her, and understood fully what his intention was.

"No," she croaked, using every bit of strength she had left to jerk her chin free and shove against him. He tightened his grip, not allowing her a foothold to fight back. When a loud recognizable roar echoed down the hallways outside, shaking the mountain itself, her attacker finally gave pause.