"Fuck!" he cursed, releasing me completely, but he cracked a hard fist across my face as he climbed off the bed. "Don't fucking move, little flower," he snarled at me. "We're not even close to done."
I pressed a hand to the side of my face, watching as he stormed out of my apartment, not even trying to hide how tented his pants were. When he left with two of the three black-clad guards who had been standing near my front door, I collapsed back into the pillows and let my heart thunder.
My face was throbbing, promising a bruise across my cheekbone. It fucking killed me not to fight back against him. If that had been anyone else, they'd be currently trying to pick pieces of their shattered jaw up off the floor. But when it came to Uriel, I knew better. He always bested me in a fight, even when he didn't have the upper hand. Worse than that, he was holding Jordan's health and well-being in his iron grip.
My front door slammed shut, and I covered my face with both hands. I wanted to cry and scream and rage, but nothing came out. Nothing. As badly as I was resisting Uriel's reprogramming, some old habits had started sinking into my bones again. Never showing emotion was one of the first things he'd drilled into me as a child, so it seemed reasonable that would be the first thing to return.
A shoe scuffed on the carpet, and I sat up with a jerk. I'd thought I was alone—stupid me for not checking—but the remaining guard was still there with me.
A brief ripple of apprehension radiated through me before he took two steps closer and I locked eyes with his deep sapphire-blue ones.
"Rafe," I breathed, scrambling up and launching myself into his arms.
He caught me, but his body was stiff and I could feel the tension and anger radiating off him in waves. "What did I fucking tell you, Vi?" he growled, even as his arms banded around me. He held me to his body, my feet off the ground, but his mind had gone to murderous places.
"Like I fucking asked him to come in here and try to kill me?" I snapped back, pushing him away and dropping my feet to the floor. "I'm not exactly carrying on some kind of creepy affair here, Rafe; I'm just trying to get us all out alive."
His eyes were hard, his dark brow furrowed as he inspected the marks blooming on my face and neck. "I'm going to kill him with my bare hands," he told me, "and then—"
"No," I snapped, cutting him off. "No, if anyone is killing Uriel, it's me. We just need to figure out how to get out of here first."
Rafe's eyes narrowed at me, anger burning bright, but after a minute he released a frustrated sigh. "That's why I'm here. It's happening today. The heads of all the Society factions are meeting here to discuss the next steps, and there's a plan in place to get you out."
My brows shot up. "And Jordan too?"
"Of course," he replied. "But he can handle himself; you're my priority."
My heart thumped a little harder at that statement—at the fierce protectiveness in his voice—even though I felt Jordan needed to be the priority. He had never suffered torture like this before. Who knew what it might be doing to his mind...?
"When Uriel comes to take you to the meeting around midday, don't go," Rafe implored me with his eyes. He hadn't removed his half mask, so I could only see his eyes, brows, and part of his nose. I couldn't kiss him, despite how badly I ached to do so. "I can't stress this enough, Vi. Do not go to that meeting, okay? I'll come for you when the time is right."
He started to leave, and I grabbed onto his arm.
"Wait, what the fuck? Rafe, you can't be serious. That's it?" I gaped at him in disbelief. "Just... wait here until you get rescued? You're kidding me, right?"
Rafe's eyes flashed with anger and something darker. "No, Violence, I'm not kidding. Wait here until you get rescued. Don't do anything stupid in the meantime, and we will all be back in the Switzerlands by dusk."
Shock held me immobile as he stormed back out of my apartment, slamming the door behind him. What in the fuck..?.
Something had changed with him. I had suspected it when he'd first come to me, but now I was positive. Things weren't the same between us, and a horrible part of me wondered if they ever would be.
"Fuck," I cursed, sinking onto the side of my bed in defeat and rubbing at my aching, bruised throat. Uriel hadn't been careful; the bruises on my neck and cheek would already be showing. They definitely throbbed hard enough, that was for sure. "Shit fucking dick cunt balls."
Sometimes it helped to just curse out loud. This wasn't one of those times. My words fell empty into the air and dissolved without taking any of my anger and frustration with them.
Pulling myself together, I went through to my bathroom and quickly got ready for the day. The last thing I wanted was for Uriel to come back and find me still in my thin pajamas, regardless of his order not to move. I could only hope whatever distraction Rafe and his allies had created would keep Uriel busy enough that he would forget about me.
Yeah, wishful thinking.
Just as I was tying off the hair tie on my tight braid, there was a knock on the door. Uriel didn't knock, though, so at least it wasn't him in person. Small mercies.
"Good morning," my familiar escort—Caine—greeted me, sounding almost sincere.
"Trust me, Caine," I replied with a scratchy voice, "there's nothing good about this morning."
His eyes widened, taking in the bruising down the side of my face and around my neck with shock. The marks had darkened while I'd showered and dressed, so I'd deliberately chosen a low-neck T-shirt and braided my hair back to ensure everyone could see how Uriel treated his "rose." Maybe it would snap some sense into his loyal sheep or, if nothing else, make them more cautious. Especially the women.
"Uh..." Caine gaped at me, at a loss for words.
I rolled my eyes. I knew better than to try and convince him to help me. He was one hundred percent on team Uriel, and I'd only be wasting my breath trying to sway him to my side.
"We need to be somewhere?" I prompted him, and a blush hit his cheeks.
"Um, yes. Yeah. Yes, I was to take you to the training center today." He awkwardly indicated that I follow him, and I let out an irritated sigh. Trying to maintain the illusion of normalcy while knowing today was the day that Rafe would break us out? It was going to be one hell of a test on my patience.
I closed my apartment door and let Caine lead me out of the housing building. Rafe said it was the meeting around midday that I needed to avoid, so I’d stay alert but avoid suspicion for the morning. We started to cross the main yard, but a group of black-clad soldiers got in our way.
"Well, well, well, looks like someone is giving you the kind of attention you deserve," a familiar voice sneered, and my shoulders stiffened.
Brandon motherfucking Morgan.
"You're not supposed to be here," Caine said. "My orders are to take his rose to the training center."
Both of us ignored Caine. "I should have known a snake like you would be here under the thumb of Uriel," I said, wanting both to irritate him and actually find out how his appearance here had fucking happened. "You were born to be fodder for a more powerful man."
Brandon's face was hidden; the winter outfits of these soldiers were very covering. It was a benefit for Rafe, but in this situation, I'd have preferred to see Brandon’s face and read all of the emotions there. I learned so much from that.
It was clear he disliked my words, though, from the tension in his shoulders.
"I'm here to take down the monarchy so I can be a leader, as I should always have been."
I snorted. And it turned into hard-core laughter until tears ran down my cheeks. "Oh fuck," I choked out. "That's a good one. You're a sheep, Brandon. Born powerless and will die powerless. That's your legacy."
With a muffled growl, he stepped forward, only stopping when one of the other men with him reached out and grabbed his arm.
"I'll be seeing you soon, gutter whore," Brandon snarled, pointing his finger at me.
At this point Caine started to edge me around the group, his hand out to prevent anyone from coming closer to me. "Uriel will not be happy about this, soldier," he said gruffly. "Despite what you see, our orders are still to protect her at all costs. Even from each other."
Brandon's group pulled him back even further, and I gave a little smartass wave as we passed, reminding him that I wasn't scared. Not of that loser.
"Hope it didn't take too long to recover from our last fight," I called over my shoulder. One last reminder for him.
He lost his shit, cursing and punching the building nearby, but I was being marched away at that point and didn't get to see the show. That was fine, though, because I'd accomplished my goal. Brandon would come find me, and I would kill him this time.
Uriel's men were going down, one by one, starting with those who’d hurt me and my guys.
Brainwashing got under way after that, right on schedule, and honestly, if I didn't hate Uriel so much and love two princes like I did, I'd be on the side of the resistance too. The absolute atrocities I had witnessed over the past days of conditioning… they were enough to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.
No matter what developed from all of this, change was needed in the system. It was flawed. Broken. And it had been that way for too long.
Did I have a solution that didn't include killing all the monarchs and replacing one broken system with another? Because Uriel was way too crazy to be any sort of leader. So, nope. I had no solution, but I was eighteen years old with zero experience running anything. Surely there were others out there who had plans. There had to be.