Page 138 of The Harbinger
There was no escaping them—no escaping him.
My ears rang, and my chin trembled as I glanced up at him, sniffling.
Sacha stood with one foot kicked to the side, his impeccably tailored suit clinging to every curve of his powerful physique, accentuating his bulging thighs and biceps. The flawless creases of his clothing belied the hidden danger lurking just beneath the surface of this enigmatic man, whose very presence foretold my fate. “What are you doing?” he said, his tone low and commanding.
My heart pounded like a caged animal, my hands draped over my head, bracing for the fatal blow. “I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I shouldn’t have gone up there, but I... Ivan’s lying.” I turned my face into the crook of my injured arm, my eyelids pinched tight.
“Stand up, Mia.”
I shook my head. “I can’t.” With the back of my hand, I wiped the tears from my soaked cheeks and steeled my spine.” I can’t go home with you.” My gaze tipped up, my eyes burning from the tears. “I won’t be a pawn in your twisted and demented cult.”
Sacha tugged his pant legs up and sunk down to his haunches. A sly grin crept across his lips as he leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto mine. “Is that what you think you are?”
My head bobbed up and down, my mind plagued by Ivan’s insidious words that had burrowed deep into my psyche. “Yes.” I gulped. “But why me?” My eyes locked onto his, searching for any hint of an answer. “What makes me so special?”
His head swayed from side to side, his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear as he tsked. “You’re not special.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and my heart shattered into a million fragments. I picked at my jeans, avoiding his gaze, my fingers fighting the tic.
There he went again, breaking me into a worthless pile of putrid stink. He doted on me, cared for me as though I were someone that brought a twinkle to his eye, then as quick as he could blink the illusion away, he cast me down in the fiery pits of oblivion where it rained darkness and decay, my heart aching with misery.
Sacha sighed and tugged on the ends of my hair. “That’s why you’re still alive.” His hand slid under my chin and lifted my gaze. “It’s why your beating heart isn’t sitting in my hands, and your blood isn’t in my cup.”
A wave of nausea washed over me, and bile rose in the back of my throat as he painted vivid, disturbing images in my mind.
“Now stand up.”
Chapter 32
Sacha
Miarosetoherfeet, her body trembling. I clenched my teeth, my fists tightening at my sides. Hadn’t I made it clear she was mine? Weren’t we passed this?
As I took in her torn shirt stained with blood and her frayed jeans, my mind raced. What had happened to her? Why had she run off, neglecting her safety in the process, and involved my parishioners.
People would talk. Whispers would begin.
“What are you going to do with me?”
“You never learn, do you?” I said, my voice cold and hard. “Breaking my rules, getting into trouble, and then you cry when there are consequences. You sound like a petulant child vying for attention.” I grabbed her by the arm, my grip firm. “Is that why you keep causing problems? You want my undivided attention?”
Her chin trembled as she coiled in on herself, her hands clasped at her chest as I pulled her to her toes by her elbows.
She shook her head, and her lips pressed together.
“Words, Mia. We’ve been over this.”
“N-no.”
“Then what is it? Because this is becoming tiresome.”
Ruslan had ordered me to have her retested, and I’d refused, which only added fuel to my irritation with her.
He’d seen something in her that day that had him convinced the original tests were wrong, despite my repeated assurances they were correct. The fact that he didn’t trust my judgment sent a shiver down my spine, like ice-cold picks digging into my nails. If he didn’t trust me to make the right decisions, then he would turn everyone’s lives upside down.
I studied her, trying to see what Ruslan had seen.
Her blood wasn’t any different from anyone else’s. She was just a normal girl who had worked her way under my skin and refused to be shaken loose.