Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(40)

She flinched at that and her body momentarily cooled. “The man who roofied me.” The one who’d come to the dog shelter to warn her, his face mottled with bruises. Don’t think about that. If she went down that trail, she’d start screaming.

There had been so many warnings and red flags. But she wouldn’t listen, would she? She’d explained every one of them away, she’d been so blinded by Marcus. And now... “That man, he’s dead, isn’t he?”

“He put his hands on you. No one harms you and lives.” The words might as well have been carved in stone.

“No one but you.” A wave of tiredness swept through her. “What do you want from me?”

“Your submission.”

Never.

She glared at him.

He bent forward and the light cupped his face. His gaze raked her naked flesh. “Your total submission. Instant, utter obedience. Your training starts now.”

“Training?”

“You won’t act like a wife, fine. You’re still my property.”

“What does that—”

“If you want off of that bed, you’re gonna have to get familiar with crawling.”

Her skin prickled and her chest felt hot, the fury burned hotter and hotter. “Go to h—”

“First things first,” he cut her off. He pulled an item she couldn’t see out of the bedside drawer, something that clinked. “You won’t wear my ring, you can wear this.” He held up a piece of thick leather attached to a long, glittering chain.

A collar.

“You’re out of your mind,” Cora whispered, staring aghast at the collar.

“On the contrary.” He leaned close. So close she could smell the aftershave she used to love. But his face? His face was nothing like that of the man she thought she knew. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to see my enemies crawling at my feet.”

She shook her head. What did he—? “I’m not your enemy,” she whispered. “I barely know you.”

“The sins of the father shall be visited upon the sons. Or daughter in this case. The sins of the father, Cora.”

He caressed his hand down her cheek and she yanked away. Echoes of the fury and the new terrible, terrible sadness warred in her chest. She’d never had a chance with Marcus, had she? He’d always see her as her mother when he looked at her. The thought made her want to throw up. Because that meant it really all had been a farce.

How had he managed it? Kissing and touching her all those months? Holding her hand and looking into her eyes when she wore her mother’s face that he so despised?

She shut her eyes. This wasn’t Marcus. The Marcus she thought she knew was dead. Or worse, he never existed. She couldn’t appeal to this man’s humanity. He had none.

“You said you’d take care of me.” It escaped anyway, a heartbroken whisper.

“I will. I will take care of you. Submit to the collar, Cora.”

It was no use. She needed to harden herself, like he had. Gathering her reserves, she spat, “Go to hell.”

“I see you need more time to consider your predicament. I’ll come back when you’re ready to assume your place.”

He was almost to the door when Cora called out, “Wait! I’m sorry. Please.” Even she could hear the desperation in her own voice. “I… I’m thirsty. And I need to go to the bathroom.”

She closed her eyes. It doesn’t matter. They’re just words. Words didn’t mean anything. And if groveling meant she could get free of being tied naked, spread-eagled to a bed, certainly she could survive a little indignity.

Because that was the key word to focus on—survive.

She’d been strong enough to survive everything her mother put her through. The years of isolation. The punishments. The emotional manipulation.

She’d survived and come out stronger.

But Marcus.

Would she be able to survive Marcus?

A shudder went down her spine even as she forced herself to look up at him and lock gazes when he peered down at her in return.

“I hate you.” It popped out but this time he didn’t pull back, he only chuckled. It was so wrong, hearing the same sound she used to adore, now, here in these awful circumstances, as he lifted her hair and secured the collar around her neck.

“I had this made special for you.” Eyes holding hers, he clipped on a chain and tugged. Heat singed Cora’s cheeks. Followed by terror. She had to get out of here. He’d just put a collar on her. No sane man did that. He’d killed people.

She couldn’t stand being here another second. She had to escape.

He untied her wrists.

Steady, she whispered to herself. Be smart. Think this through.

But her heartbeat fluttered like a rabbit being chased down by a predator.

Run.

Marcus moved to the bottom of the bed, the chain tied to the collar around her neck clinking as he went. It didn’t look like he had the best grip on it. He wasn’t even looking at her as he untied her ankles.

Run.

The second he had her left ankle untied she exploded off the bed and bolted for the door.

Run!

Only to be jerked painfully backward by the collar around her neck. She choked as she was wrenched off her feet onto her ass. Coughing and gasping for breath, her hands flew to the collar.