Stealing Cinderella(21)

The kitten meows from behind me, and when I turn, he’s watching me like a silent witness. His eyes wise and brave as he comes closer, daring to pass the monster who took his human mother. Without much of thought, I scoop him up and haul him back to the barn. Today, he will have to learn to share.





10





Ella





I’m completely immobile. Frozen in my body, my mind swirling with strange and terrifying images. Am I drunk? High? I can’t seem to recall what happened to make me feel this way. But the hallucinations continue, and I could swear I was on an airplane. The rumble of the engines vibrates my eardrums, and it’s difficult to distinguish reality from my imagination.

“She’s just had a little too much to drink,” someone says.

Another seat belt clicks, and something brushes against my face. Is it Alfred? Am I still at the sanctuary?

Seconds and minutes drag on for what feels like an eternity. Everything is so slow. Time has never felt this expansive. For a while, I think I drift off. Or am I just staring at the sky? A pill squeezes past my lips, and it seems familiar. How many of these pills have I had?

The next thing I see is a pair of dark gray eyes. The eyes that have haunted me for weeks. Thorsen Lykken. Is he real too, or just a figment of my imagination? He hoists me into his arms, and my face collapses against his chest, hard as steel. He smells clean, like mint and expensive cologne, but not overwhelming. I want to inhale that scent, and I think I do. But then it all starts coming back to me.

The sanctuary. My heel. His threat. The needle.

My mouth falls open, and I try to ask where he’s taking me, but my lips refuse to move. My muscles are starting to twitch, and it feels like the life is coming back to me. Soon, I can fight him off. I can run away. These are my best-laid plans until he drops me into the seat of another car, securing me before he gets behind the wheel himself. I don’t know where we are. That becomes abundantly clear when I observe the passing scenery outside.

Colorful houses dot the landscape as the car speeds along the road, and I catch glimpses of hills and water off in the distance. This isn’t England. That much, I know. I’m beginning to wonder if he actually brought me back to Norway. A million different thoughts bounce around my mind, giving me a pounding headache. Or is that the drug?

What will Narcissa do when I don’t come home? Will anyone even look for me? No, I don’t think they will. She will be angry, but I can’t see her actually bothering to worry about my absence. What about Olivia? Relief springs up inside me, only to be dimmed when I remember that she wasn’t even home. She didn’t know I was there and probably never will. But I remember I had my phone and my purse. Where are they? Did he take those too?

My head flops over to study him, and it occurs to me that whatever he’s given me is wearing off. Maybe I shouldn’t be so obvious. Maybe I should wait until I’m certain I can move my body and then strike. But how?

The man is a towering steel frame and royalty at that. Which is about the time it occurs to me that none of this makes sense. Why would he take me? How can any of this even be real?

I lick my lips, desperate for water, and then try again. “Why?”

This time, the word comes out as a throaty whisper, and I’m not imagining that I really spoke because Thorsen turns to look at me.

“Why?” he repeats. “Because I can. You asked me what I wanted, Ella. Remember?”

His words should terrify me. I think that would be the normal reaction. But I don’t know if it’s the drugs or the fact that my entire life has been a series of unfortunate events that’s left me numb to my fate. If it isn’t one monster, there’s always another lurking around the corner. The men who killed my father. Narcissa. Lavinia. Magnolia. And now, Thorsen.

What can he do to me that hasn’t already been done?

Grief, so dark and deep, sinks into the chambers of my heart like lava, snuffing out the last flickering flame of hope I held. For me, survival mode has always meant abandoning my feelings and icing over my heart. Numbness is the only way I can function through the bad days anymore. But I think what scares me the most is that when I look at Thorsen, I can’t go to that safe place in my mind. I can’t turn off my fears, and I feel… too much.

I wonder if he can sense that weakness in me when his eyes clash with mine. A bolt of lightning strikes my heart, and adrenaline floods my veins as he narrows his gaze like I’m the enemy. I couldn’t see it before, but I see it now. This man hates me.

I shrink into my seat as he turns the car down a private lane, coming to a stop at a secure gate. It’s dark outside, and I can’t be sure, but I think he punches in a code. When the car lurches forward again, and the gates lock us in from behind, a lump forms in my throat.

I’m likely never getting out of here alive.





“This will be your quarters.” Thorsen drapes my body onto the bed, his massive figure blotting me out beneath the soft glow of the lamplight. “Tomorrow, we will discuss expectations.”

Expectations?

He lingers for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes burning a path over my face. There isn’t a single ounce of warmth radiating from this man, and I understand now why they call him the coldhearted future king. Every word he utters is like a biting wind in a tundra. There is no escape from his hostility.