Uncaged

Wanting

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"Thaddeus, Zeke and Cammi said there's been no trace of Jocelyn or rogues in their territory but are doing a sweep and have agreed to cooperate with us in her search," Collin reported, with a wary look in his eye that tracked me as I paced the length on my office.

"What about the others passed the north bor- ARGH!" I doubled over with a strangled cry, clutching at my mark with rigid fingers. Jasper whimpered and howled, retreating to the hollow of my mind and curling into a mournful ball. Collin rushed at me placing a hand on my shoulder and asking what was wrong.

I didn't answer, all I felt was pain shooting through my body. As if my nervous system had caught fire, burning from Jocelyn's claim at the base of my neck. The agony subsided after a few moments, fizzling to a dull smoulder. I straightened myself, rolling my shoulders and Collin's hand off my person.

"He's sending me a message," I panted, clenching my trembling fist.

"What message?"

"That she belongs to him."

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I hung like a rag doll from rusted cuffed chains hoisted to the ceiling. My toes hovered a few inches off the ground. My weight was left to hang heavy and unbearable off my near-dislocated shoulders, which creaked and moaned like the deck of an old ship. My head hung in defeat and my skin glistened with a thick veil of sweat; so dense that my hair was plastered across my naked breasts and down my back.

It would have bothered me in a sticky, uncomfortable manner if it weren't that I could almost hear my muscles tearing beneath my skin. And my bones weren't broken at every juncture sending blinding pain radiating from from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I seemed to heal at an excruciatingly sluggish pace, much slower than I remembered ever having before.

I had broken into a cold sweat that poured out of me in such excess, that it gathered on my forehead and trickled indolently down the bridge of my nose; Before dripping off the tip and landing into a small puddle on the concrete.

After he had finished contorting every joint and bone he could wrap his meaty fists around, he'd lazily strolled across the room. Sat down in his warm leather chair and watched with a bemused smile as my broken bones slowly, painstakingly knit themselves back together. All while his eyes wandered obscenely over every inch of my glistening exposed flesh.

Time passed and a high-pitched, strung-out whine leaked from between my down-turned lips. Like the steam from a kettle, the pain seemed only to grow louder the longer I dangled there.

He stuck me every so often with an infection different from the one before. It was void of giddy euphoria and instead left me weakened and immobilized.

His watchful eyes were as torturous as his hands and just as fear-inducing, I avoided them at all costs.

He continued to wait and observed in suspended animation for the perfect moment to strike and break me all over again. That was until his face fell into a scowl of disappointment and his fingers tensed in anticipation, preparing to rise from his villainous throne.

"Please..." I whimpered, my broken ribs shifting as I begged. Proving dangerously close to my lungs.

"I'm sorry I was bad." I cried. "I'll be good, I'll be good, I promise! Please...please no more."