Chapter 7 — Marked and Mistreated
Weakly, barely above a whisper, I repeated the only words that mattered anymore:
"I'm… hungry."
His footsteps thundered toward me in response.
Without warning, he yanked me off the bed and slammed my back against the cold stone wall. The impact sent a fresh wave of pain through my already aching body. My breath caught in my throat.
"You think I care?" he snarled, his eyes burning into mine with raw contempt.
Then, his gaze shifted lower. His fingers brushed against my breast, pausing at the faint mark beside it. His brows narrowed. "What's this?" he asked sharply. "That doesn’t look like a tattoo."
I didn’t answer immediately. I just stared at him, empty and expressionless, refusing to blink, refusing to flinch. If it would get him angrier, if it wo
