Althea

07

ALTHEA

The door slams shut behind me.

Thud.

Thud.

I could hear my heart protesting in my chest.

Eamon doesn't waste time.

Before I can even turn around, his hands are on me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me toward the bed. His grip is so tight, I can feel my skin tearing underneath his fingers. His nails dig into my flesh.

"You think you're better than me now?" he spits. "Because you got dressed up and made eyes at him?"

My heart drops.

He saw.

He knows.

He leans in, breath hot and foul on my cheek. "I saw the way you looked at him. Like a little w***e. Like you wanted him to save you."

I turn my head, bile rising in my throat. "Please don't—"

His slap comes out of nowhere.

Hard. Sharp.

My cheek explodes with pain. My head slams sideways into the wall again. The room tilts. I taste blood.

I blink rapidly.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

He's already half-undressed, his trousers hanging low on his hips. The hunger in his eyes makes my stomach twist.

I try to yank my arm away, but he only pulls me closer, his body pressing against mine. The heat of him suffocates me. I want to scream, but it gets caught in my throat.

He spins me around, his other hand grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You're gonna learn your place tonight," he growls, his words a dark promise. His thumb digs into the corner of my jaw, pinning my head back like I'm nothing more than a doll for him to control.

"I'm not—" I gasp, but his hand smashes into my face before I can finish.

The slap isn't just loud; it's a shockwave. My head snaps to the side, my ear ringing with the impact. My lip splits, blood filling my mouth.

He grabs me by the hair and throws me.

I hit the mattress hard, bounce once, ribs screaming. I scramble to the edge, but he's already on me, pinning me down, straddling my waist with a weight I can't push off.

"No," I scream, panic taking over. I scratch at him, try to kick, try anything—

He punches me.

Right in the ribs.

All the air leaves my lungs.

I can't breathe.

Before I can even blink, he's on me, tearing at my dress like it's nothing. Like I'm nothing.

I fight. I scream. I push against him, kick, claw, beg—but it's useless.

Eamon is a wall of muscle, his rage pouring into me like a flood.

His fingers dig into my thigh, bruising. He grabs his belt lying beside us on the bed.

I try to turn away.

The first lash burns across my ribs.

I scream.

The second lands just beneath my breast.

I scream again.

Then I stop screaming.

Not because it doesn't hurt.

But because it doesn't matter.

Because no one is coming.

Not Khaos.

Not the guards.

Not God.

And in that moment—something inside me breaks.

I stop fighting.

My eyes glaze over, staring at the ceiling. I feel the tears fall, but I don't wipe them away.

This is it.

This is my fate.

I've always known it, haven't I?

Girls like me don't get saved.

We don't get happy endings.

We get owned. Touched. Used.

And no matter how much we scream, no one listens.

His hand pressing against my throat, just tight enough to make the world spin.

I can't breathe. The pressure against my windpipe is suffocating. I gasp, clawing at his hand, but it's like trying to fight a storm.

"You're mine now," he growls, slapping my thigh so hard it leaves a red print. "You belong to me."

Tears burn my eyes. I sob, full-body, soul-deep sobs as his hands roam—grab—violate—while I scream.

He backhands me again, pulling my breast so hard, for a second I get scared he's going to rip it off. My lip splits. Blood runs down my chin. He's panting now, yanking my dress higher—

"No," I cry. "Please, please, don't—Eamon, stop—I'll do anything—"

He laughs.

God, he laughs.

"You're already doing exactly what I want."

"Beg for it," he demands, his lips curling into a sick smile. "Beg for me to stop."

I choke on the words, my lungs burning. My hands feel heavy, weak. I can't even push him off. All I want is for him to stop—please. My pride is all that's left, and it's slipping away, piece by piece.

"Please," I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

His grip on my throat tightens. "What was that? Speak louder."

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. His hand presses harder. My vision goes dark. I claw at his wrist, my fingers numb. But it's too late.

With a sickening twist of his lips, Eamon drops his hand from my throat. I cough, gasping for air, feeling the burning in my chest.

I can't escape him. I can't escape this.

My dress is torn to shreds. My chest heaves with every shallow breath, but it's no use.

His hands rip at my underwear, and I freeze. My skin crawls.

His lips curl as he spreads my legs, struggling to settle between them.

"No. Please." The words barely leave my lips. But he's not listening.

My voice is lost in the silence of the room. My body trembles beneath him, tears slipping down my cheeks.

I can't breathe.

I can't think.

I can't escape.

I don't fight anymore. What's the point? Fighting only makes it worse. This is my fate. This is who I am now.

The world feels like it's breaking around me. My mind shuts down.

I'm sitting on the soft grass beside a creek. The sun is shining, and the world smells like fresh flowers and warm earth. I look over to see Khaos, his face smeared with dirt and his hair wild. He's holding out a daisy to me, grinning like a fool.

"This is for you, you look just like a princess today."

I laugh, my small fingers reaching out to take the delicate flower. I tuck it behind my ear and spin around in a little circle.

"Do I look like a princess now?" I giggle.

Khaos nods seriously, his eyes twinkling. "Of course. You're the princess of the whole world. And I'm your knight."

The world is simple, and the only thing that matters is the way the sunlight dances through the trees and how Khaos always knows how to make me smile.

"I'll protect you," he makes me feel like nothing could hurt me. "No one will ever hurt you. I promise."

My heart swells with warmth as I look at him, that boy who was my best friend, my protector.

My Khaos.

The door slams open.

A voice, guttural rips through the air. "Get the f**k off her."

I blink, but my vision is blurred with tears and blood. I can barely process what's happening.

But the suffocating weight on top of me is gone.

Thankfully.

I hear a crash.

A sickening crack of bone.

I hear him screaming.

But I don't care.

I'm too numb.