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A Wind of Change(30)

By:Bella Forrest


“Your half-blood?” I breathed.

“My half-blood.”

I stood up and moved away from him. “What is this tattoo you placed on my arm?”

“We all have them.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed me an identical brand on his right upper arm.

“Did you etch this into me?”

“That’s not important. What is important is that you listen carefully to what I’m about to say. If you want to survive in this new body of yours, you’ll need to learn to depend on me. I can show you how to live without pain, and how to enjoy your life.”

I backed away as far as I could from him in the wooden room.

“There are certain rules,” he continued, “that you are designed to abide by. My rules. If you disobey me, very bad things can end up happening to you… and your sister.”

I choked up. “You have given me no proof that she’s even still alive.”

“I’m telling you that she is still alive. And she will remain alive and well, provided you do as I say.”

“What do you want from me?”

He paused as he eyed me over. “First, I want to show you that you will enjoy having me as your master. I will be good to you and you will enjoy submitting to me.”

This man is crazy.

“Come here,” he said.

I didn’t budge.

His eyes darkened. “Come here, River.” His voice was dangerously low. “I won’t ask you again.”

I remained rooted to my spot.

I wasn’t going to submit to this monster.

When I still didn’t respond, he leapt up, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of the sauna. He began striding down the corridor, dragging me along behind him. To my shock, I found that I could keep up without difficulty. Before, even his walking had been so fast, I could barely keep up.

He stopped at the door right at the end of the corridor, and pushed it open. It was dark but, bizarrely, I could see everything clearly. It was a small room, bare except for what looked like a huge freezer in one corner.

He moved so fast, I barely realized what happened next. He dragged me over to the container, lifted up the lid, and wrestled me inside. I submerged in icy water—so cold my body seized up. My breathing came hard and fast as the agony intensified in my bones.

“No!” I screamed.

He slammed the lid shut above me. The container was so filled up with water, even my mouth was submerged. I was forced to breathe through my nose.

I bashed against the lid, but it wouldn’t budge. I kicked, and realized that I was too short to even feel the bottom. I moved my body as rapidly as I could, trying to generate warmth. I wondered whether even as a human I would feel as much pain as this. No matter how much I moved around, I was unable to conjure up even the slightest bit of heat.

I had no way of knowing the time, but it felt like an eternity before Michael raised the lid again. My body had become so stiff I was barely able to keep myself above the surface. If he’d come even ten minutes later, I was sure that I would have drowned.

He reached inside and picked me up, and set me down roughly on the floor. Unable to stand, I collapsed.

He bent down to my level, touching my forehead with his palm.

“That was uncomfortable, wasn’t it?” he asked softly.

I was in too much pain to even respond.

“River, I’m sorry. I don’t like to do this to you. But you need to learn to do as I say.”

He scooped me up in his arms even as I shook, and carried me out of the dark chamber. We re-emerged in the corridor and he headed back to the sauna. He set me down on one of the wooden benches and I backed up against the wall as he turned the dial up high. He didn’t say a word as I sat in the corner, still trembling, until the sauna grew hot enough for the pain to begin to subside. The shock remained with me much longer, however. I was still breathing in rasps, my body still in some kind of trauma.

He reached for a towel and handed it to me.

I clasped it in my hands and buried my face in it. It was the only barrier I could form between him and me in that small room.

“Now,” he said, after perhaps twenty minutes had passed. “Come here.”

Even after the pain he’d put me through, I couldn’t find it in myself to give in. Instead I shot him a glare. “I know your type,” I spat. “Who were you before you became a vampire? Were you bullied at school? Unable to get girls based on your winning personality alone? Stay away from me, you creep.”

He got to his feet slowly, and closed the distance between us. As he extended his fingers, claws shot out. He pressed his forefinger against my cheek, cutting a thin line. The blood seeped down my cheek, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that I was in pain. I kept my face as expressionless as possible, even as my cheek stung.