Kidnapped By Mistake (COMPLETED)

Chapter 20 (edited)

Two months. I've been here in this extremely opulent house, which is still extremely disconcerting, for two months. So far I've managed to avoid any contact with the 'master' of the house beyond the multiple occasions where my hands are literally tied, above my head with chains. The occasions where he feels the need to show me off like a prize breeding mare. Somehow there's never any interest on the part of the buyers, maybe they have no need for a wolf shifter who has no idea how to be a wolf shifter? Or maybe they just don't have a thing for girls who don't speak? Either way, it was working for me. But the fake cop buyers Greyson supposedly had coming failed and I hadn't seen him in a month so I figured at this point I was abandoned, on my own. I was also stuck in this social isolation room and drugged anytime I had to go anywhere. The only communication I got was when one of the other women, usually Kathleen, brought me food. Right now I was pacing back and forth between the bed and the lines I made on the wall one for every meal I was served because I didn't actually know the time of day ever anymore. I didn't even know if I could still speak because I never used my voice anymore. All I did was pace and mark the meals I was served. I rarely slept because every time I did I woke up with my hands in chains forced to stand on my toes like a damn ballerina. A bone-deep tired settled over me at all times except when I slept. Then I dreamt. Things that make me want to cry myself to sleep because then I could see Troy. It was always the same dream, it used to be anyway. The one that was a memory of the one time we got to be intimate together before... everything. But now its evolved into something more. In my dreams I get more time with him, we get to grow as a couple. I get to pretend in my head that I am carrying Troy's baby. I get to pretend we're happy and still together when my eyes are closed. But every time I open them I'm devastated all over again. The door to my isolation room opens and I halt my pacing. It's Kathleen.

"Mealtime," She chimes setting down a tray and giving me a long look before leaving. That's it. That's the interaction I get for today. Those two words encompass the entire socialization ritual I go through almost every day except for the days where I'm exposed and visually groped by multiple different men. I walk over to the tray and look at the selection of food. The smell makes my stomach turn dangerously so I turned away and sit on the edge of the bed instead. I'm so tired that I slouch against the frame and then slide my feet up on the bed. My eyes close as I tell myself that I won't fall asleep just rest for a moment. I hear the door open again. The sound of the deadbolt scraping away makes me lazily force my eyes open and turn my face towards the door. The large man who barges his way into the room seems surprised that I'm awake still. His head turns and looks at the tray sitting untouched on the dresser. He curses violently and then reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a large syringe. Sitting up straighter I keep my wide eyes on him as he advances. Shaking my head I press my body against the wall keeping my knees locked against my chest. He advanced and my eyes locked on the shiny tip of the needle as a whimper escaped my throat unbidden. I watched him approach keeping my tears at bay as fear enveloped me. He reached for my arm and I tried to pull away but his grip was stronger. My entire body tensed and I couldn't look away from the needle as he drew it towards my exposed arm. My hand curled into a fist and I tried one last time to free myself from his grip. He didn't let go and instead plunged the needle into my arm. He let go of my arm and I cradled it against my chest glaring at him. After a few moments I began to feel drowsy and my eyes started to slip shut. With one last feeble attempt at a glare I nodded off and felt him catch me as I fell to the side.

When I woke up again I was in chains hanging from the ceiling. Dammit! I cursed this place seven ways to Sunday blinking the rest of the drug from my system.

"So, I've heard you're not eating anymore." The sound of his lyrical tenor was grating on my nerves. I glared at him as he rounded so he was standing in front of me. Some how they never chained us so that we were facing the door as if seeing who would enter the room was the worst thing that could happen. "Right, well this whole not talking thing is getting old," his head inclined as he looked me over. I tilted my head looking at him and thinking that's not going to happen. Never would I utter a word to him ever. He didn't deserve my words, even if they were all curse words. And I wasn't sure if I could still speak anyway. Not that I'd waste a single word on him if I could. Without a single word I looked away. Maybe if I pretended he wasn't here the drugs would take over my system again and I could go to sleep. "Do you know why no one wants you?" His words taunted me and I had a feeling that I wouldn't be forgetting him anytime soon. A bad feeling. When my eyes flicked to his, he continued his little speech. "It's because you're damaged goods." His hand traced over my neck and briefly touched the spot where my mark rested. "You've been claimed and they don't like that." I flinched away from him. "Do you know what it takes to break the bond of an alpha?" Bad feelings swamped me as I waited for him to answer his own question. "There is virtually nothing that can do that short of removing the mark." In his right hand he raised a knife to my line of vision. My eyes locked onto it, my mind completely missing the point for a moment. You can't. The words stuck in my throat as fear stuck its claws deep into my chest and squeezed my heart to the point of strangulation. He brought the knife up to my collar bone tracing it lightly over the spot where my mark sat. It was the only recognition I had that we were still linked. He couldn't take it from me. His knife cutting into my skin indicated other wise as blood began to seep from the wound. I whimpered in pain as he cut all around the mark deep enough to cause intensive bleeding. I released a strangled scream as he cut deeply into my shoulder letting tears free flow down my face as my body twisted. My feet scrabbling for purchase on the floor. His left hand gripped my arm tight holding me in place as much as possible while I panted and whined in pain. When he stuck the knife inside of a previously made incision and dug deeper blood spurted forth and I screamed in earnest. " I knew you had a voice in there somewhere. If I would have known this would bring it out I would have done it sooner." His smirk made me wish I could take the knife and jab it in his eye and then his throat. I looked down at all the blood and recognized the beginning feeling of blood loss. I felt him scrape the knife under the skin tearing the top dermal layer off and I felt every single tear as skin ripped from muscle and blood filled the exposed wound. I sent one more feeble glare his direction feeling the lightness in my head just as I passed out just as the door opened again.