Chapter 75

Agnes

The cold wall slamming against my back sent a sharp jolt of pain barking through my body, but it wasn’t enough to clear the haze that was creeping into my mind.

I tried to push the man away, but my limbs were suddenly feeling sluggish and weak. It was like trying to fight through the onset of a thick fog, my hands fumbling against the solid wall of his chest with no effect. My head swam, a sickly dizziness taking root, and I realized with a sinking feeling that something was wrong—deeply wrong.

“What’s the matter, princess?” the man sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he leaned close to me. His breath was hot against my ear, sour and cloying. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

“Let me go,” I managed to slur out, but even to my own ears, the words sounded weak and pathetic. My vision blurred at the edges, and the dim lighting of the hallway seemed to twist and warp.

Had I been… drugged?

Before I could comprehend what was happening, the man grabbed my wrist, yanking it upward and pinning it against the wall with a force that made me wince. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’ve caused a lot of trouble, you know that? It’s about time you pay for what you did.”

Trouble? What was he even talking about? My mind fumbled to remember what I could have possibly done, but it was like grasping at smoke. All I could remember was Elise and I brushing off his advances at the bar. That was it. That couldn’t possibly warrant—

The man’s grip tightened, and I cried out softly, the sound barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

“Let’s go,” he hissed as he yanked me away from the wall. “And keep your mouth shut. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear, would you?”

My heart thudded wildly in my chest as he dragged me down the hallway, past the bathrooms, and toward a small, unmarked door.

I didn’t even have time to cry out or comprehend what was happening through my sudden fog; no one would have heard me, anyway, with the music pounding through the empty hallway. My head lolled back, searching for Elise over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. She was likely sitting at the bar, sipping her drink and waiting for me to get out of the bathroom.

With a shove, the man opened the door to reveal a cramped coat closet. The smell of musty fabric and cheap perfume assaulted my senses as he pushed me inside and slammed the door shut behind us.

Panic clawed at my throat as he threw me onto my hands and knees, pain lancing through my joints, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Whatever was happening to me—whatever had been slipped into my drink—was working fast. I tried to get up, but it was no use. All I managed to do was stumble up onto one foot before falling flat onto my back, arms stretched out to the sides like a starfish.

“Please,” I whispered, the word barely audible over the slur in my voice. “Whatever you want, I’ll—

“I know exactly what I want,” he said calmly as he fished something out of his pocket. My hazy vision caught the glint of a marker. A marker? What the hell was he—

“You’re going to regret messing with my family,” he muttered, uncapping it with a sharp click. “Let’s see how high and mighty you feel when I’m done with you, bitch.”

I tried to push him away again, but my arms felt like lead. He loomed over me, his grin widening as he crouched down to my level.

“Hold still,” he said mockingly as he pressed the marker to my skin. The cold tip dragged across my exposed collarbone, leaving behind a streak of dark ink.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as he began frantically writing something across my skin, but I refused to let them fall. Not for him. Not for this. My head lolled to the side, my vision swimming as he yanked my shirt up to expose my bra. I could hear the faint sound of the bar beyond the door, laughter and clinking glasses a cruel reminder of how close—and yet so far—help was.

But oddly enough, he didn’t do what I expected—he didn’t take advantage of me.

Rather, he just kept writing across my exposed skin. Like he was leaving some kind of message. He tugged my skirt up next, revealing my thighs and my panties, and continued to write. And all the while, I was limp and helpless, whatever drugs that had been slipped into my drink quickly taking hold.

When he was finished, he leaned back on his heels and slipped something else out of his pocket: his phone.

“Smile for the camera,” he said, snapping a photo. The flash seared through the haze in my mind, and I flinched, my body trembling with the effort to move, to fight back. But I couldn’t. My limbs were no longer my own, and my thoughts were slipping away faster and faster.

“Elijah,” I whispered, the name slipping from my lips before I even realized I had spoken it.

The man’s grin faltered for a moment, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s that?” he asked, leaning closer to me. “You think your big, bad Alpha is going to save you this time? Sorry, sweetheart, but he—”

Suddenly, the door burst open with a deafening crash, cutting the man off mid-sentence. Light flooded the tiny closet, and for a moment, all I could see was a tall, dark silhouette framed in the doorway.

And then Elijah stepped inside.

His eyes were glowing a fierce red that sent a shiver down my spine, even through my fog. His chest heaved with rage, and his fists were clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles had turned white.

“Get away from her,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, more dangerous than I had ever heard it.

The man scrambled to his feet and began backing away with his hands raised. “Hey, man, I wasn’t—”

Elijah didn’t let him finish. In a blur, he crossed the room and drove his fist into the man’s chest with bone-crushing force. The impact sent the man crashing into the wall, where he crumpled to the floor amongst a pile of coats, wheezing and clutching his ribs.

Elijah didn’t spare him another glance. His focus was entirely on me.

“Agnes,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less urgent. He crouched down beside me, his hands trembling as he gently cupped my face. “Agnes, look at me. Are you okay?”

I tried to answer, but my voice failed me. The haze in my mind was thickening, pulling me under like quicksand. My vision blurred again, and I felt the last remnants of my strength faded away.

But even as consciousness slipped from my grasp, I managed to lift a trembling hand and clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer.

“You heard me,” I whispered as he scooped me up against his chest, cradling me tightly against his warm body. “You heard me…”

And then everything went black.