I’ve seen the proof right there in front of me that the Bond changes your body…
…what I now believe is that it can change your very mind.
And I can’t be a slave any more – not to the likes of Peter Paradooli, or to the Bond.
“Will this room be good for you?”
Conan must have a perfect mental map of the mansion. It’s like he knows it as well as me, and I’ve spent years working here. He’s led me to one of Peter’s luxurious guest rooms as if he’d been working as a doorman here for years.
I just hope he doesn’t know everything yet – all the nooks, crannies, and passageways that Peter installed through his mansion.
“This one is fine,” I try to sound nonchalant, “but I think I prefer the first-floor guest suite. I’d always dreamed of sleeping there.”
“Very well,” Conan smiles, and leads me further down the corridor. I can tell he suspects nothing – truly believing I’m just indulging my whim.
He leads me to the first-floor suite, and I stagger through the door and flop face-first onto the massive bed.
I’m so terribly tired. This was the most stressful day of my entire life, and all I want to do is fall asleep right now.
“Goodnight, Conan,” I say, face still buried in the sheets. As I close my eyes, I struggle to fight back the urge to instantly fall asleep. “Could you open the window a crack? It’s stuffy.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“No – I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow, Conan.”
It takes every effort not to fall instantly into a deep slumber as soon as I hear the door click shut…
…but the moment it does, my eyes snap open.
My weariness disappears instantly, and I clamber to my feet and roll off the bed. As soon as my feet hit the floorboards, I raid the cupboards, grabbing whatever supplies I can.
Like all of the others in this luxurious mansion, Peter’s guest suite has ample toiletries and a fresh bowl of fruit. I tip them all into a pillowcase, using it like a sack.
From the closet, I pull different sets of spare pajamas in various sizes. Peter had a selection placed in each room, in case any visiting guest forgets their own pair.
I slip on a comfortable, well-fitted set and then pull the bathrobe back around my body – because I know how cold it will be outside.
Then, I move silently – very aware that Conan is standing guard on the other side of this very door, to ‘protect’ me from any possible intruders…
…or, I now believe, more likely just to keep his triad’s new ‘acquisition’ held securely inside.
I tiptoe up to the door and peer through the crack in the frame. Through it, I can see the soft, white cotton of that absurdly too-short bathrobe.
Well, it might look ridiculous – but even in that cotton bathrobe, Conan is more intimidating than any human man could ever be. With him standing guard, no one would ever dare come to the door to kidnap me…
…or, I chillingly realize, to rescue me.
I know the triad won’t hold Danielle, or the other women hostage. Why would they? They only care about me so fiercely because they think I’m their gods-damned ‘fated mate’ – the one woman in the universe that they can be Bonded with through the act of mating.
But now I have to face the terrifying reality:
If I refuse them, and yet they truly think I am their mate,
who’s to say they won’t force the Bond upon me, by seeding me against my will?
I don’t think the three of them could be capable of such a vile act as rape… Or, at least, I didn’t…
But if what Conan told me is true – if the sole purpose of an Aurelian male is to find their fated mate, and to make her theirs – then surely they’d eventually grow so frustrated by my refusal that they’d just take me; whether I allowed them to or not.
I had the sudden vision of those three towering warriors bursting through the door, pinning me to the bed, and forcing me to be Bonded to them, one after the other – taking me by force and filling me with their hot cum.
And the worst part? My nipples actually harden at the thought of submitting to such absolute, despicable dominance.
Ugh! I don’t want that…
…or do I?
I push the thoughts out of my mind and focus on what needs to be done.
I chose the first-floor bedroom for a reason – because it has windows that open onto the main courtyard down below.
Because of my years working in Peter’s mansion, I know that opening the window can trigger an alarm – which is why I made sure that Conan did it himself, so that he won’t get suspicious if the three of them are keeping tabs on my room.
There’s still a chance that the three men will come knocking on my door to check on me. I wish I had Danielle here to give me advice, but I know that I need to move forward regardless.
I can’t stop now. I’m done being the decorative toy or the sexual plaything of powerful men. I’m done having gangsters and criminals decide my future.
I want to be me.
The universe is a terrifying place, but I will conquer it on my own terms.
Scurrying away from the door to my room, I gently push the window that Conan opened a little further. Through it, I see the courtyard down below; strangely quiet at this time of night…
Or maybe not ‘strangely’. I suddenly remember that most of the men who’d be strolling through the courtyard and guarding Peter’s manor died at the same time he did – and are probably still lying in their own blood back in the main hall.
Nausea suddenly fills me as I remember that horrific sight…
…but it fuels my will to escape.
19
Evander
Augustus and I sit in one of Peter Paradooli’s luxurious
