Tenebrous ↠ Volturi Kings {1} ✓

029

TW: Abuse and Graphic Violence

It's a dream. It has to be a dream. It has to be.

I didn't have to open my eyes to know that it wasn't. The first thing I was aware of upon my slow ascent into consciousness was the aching in my head. Whoever had snatched me had put me in the trunk. My head bounced with every bump, shooting a fresh jolt of pain through my skull.

I opened my eyes. The trunk was dark, but I could perceive the darkness around me, swirling worriedly and concealing me in the shadows without my bidding. I knew that the shadows were a defense mechanism, but right now my power was going to be the very thing that damned me.

Demetri couldn't track me when I was hidden, and the shadows weren't about to leave, even at my command. I let out a groan, wishing I could take the gag from my mouth, but my hands were bound behind my back. I couldn't even feel my phone in my pocket. I was completely, absolutely defenseless.

I had no idea how long I was unconscious or how long my captor had been driving. I screwed my eyes shut, praying that I would wake up in my bed. The car hit a particularly bad pothole and my head slammed against the floor. Sparks erupted behind my eyelids and I sunk back into darkness.

When I woke again, the car had stopped. I could feel my heart drumming wildly in my chest as the car door slammed. Footsteps headed towards the trunk. There were tears in my eyes. The trunk opened. It was still dark out. I knew who it was, of course I did. He haunted my dreams and walked my reality. He grabbed my arm, yanking me out of the shadows, but what remained still clung around my mind, as if that would protect me.

Blue eyes met blue eyes, and my father smiled at me. It wasn't a kind expression. "Welcome home, Rowan."

He yanked me out of the trunk so harshly that, when he stepped smoothly out of the way, I fell flat on my face. With my feet bound, I had no hopes of balancing. I could feel warm blood as it trickled out of my nose.

"Pathetic. Get up," he snarled, hauling me to my feet. He dragged me across the lawn and up the stairs of a dilapidated house. Did he live here?

"I'm going to take out your gag, now. Say anything and you'll regret it, understand?" he snarled. His face was very close to mine and his breath was rancid. I nodded quickly, feeling tears fall from my eyes without my volition. He pulled the gag from my mouth and my breathing came out in sharp, punctuated gasps.

"Shh, Daddy's here," he said tauntingly, pushing me towards the radiator on the far side of the room. He fished out a keyring from his pocket and unlocked the cuffs that he had around my wrists. I knew better than to try anything.

"How did you find me?" I whispered as he handcuffed me to the radiator. He chuckled as he walked away with slow, deliberate steps. From his pocket he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag from it. He hadn't smoked when I was with him.

"You are a very difficult girl to find, Rowan. So imagine my luck when a friend of yours posts a picture from her graduation. A picture with you. It was oh-so-easy to find you after that. Though I must say, that new family of yours did a good job of hiding you, and it was so hard to get you alone. What's your new surname, again?"

It was clear that he was expecting an answer. I swallowed. "Cullen."

"Cullen." He sneered the word before backhanding me across the face. I cried out as my head hit the radiator and my vision fuzzed before coming back into focus. "That's not really your name, now is it?"

"No," I whispered, pressing myself into the radiator, try to get away. There was nowhere to go.

"What is your name, Rowan? Why don't you tell me your name?" he asked, crouching down beside me. My eyes stung when he blew smoke into my face. "Your. Name."