Page 123 of A Monarch's Fall

“Where has all this come from? What happened to you while we were separated?” she demanded.

I didn’t answer, and she sighed heavily and walked over to the closet. She returned to me and sat clothing on the bed.

“Put this on,” she instructed as she quickly got dressed herself.

She had selected thick grey joggers, a white top, and a quarter zip sweater for me to wear.

I pulled off my old top and got dressed into what she had given me.

“Now will you talk to me?” Selene asked as she finished buttoning up her shirt.

“I’ve already told you everything that matters. I want to go home,” I said.

“Percy,” she growled, “I’m growing impatient. You will explain to me where your sudden desire to leave has come from.”

I looked at her then and saw the confusion, the frustration, the concern all expressed in the way she looked back at me, and I knew that she would never simply let me go. I knew I would have to make her, that I would have to hurt her.

“Isn’t it enough that I don’t want to be with you? Why do you need anything more than that?” I asked.

She stepped forward and took hold of me by my arms. I tried to pull myself free from her, but she didn’t let me.

“Because I know you don’t want that. I know you don’t mean what you are saying. Because you are mine, and you’re never leaving me again,” she said, and it sounded like a promise, like a threat. “Now tell me truthfully what has you behaving like this?”

“Maybe I’m done being abducted and attacked and watching everyone die. Maybe I just want to be safe. Being your soul match is dangerous for everyone, and I don’t want it,” I told her, frustrated, my stomach twisting and burning as the words left me.

“Percy, I’m so sorry and ashamed that I have failed to adequately protect you. But I promise you will never be in such danger again. I will take every precaution necessary. You will never be left unprotected, you will never be taken from me again,” she said.

“It’s not good enough. You know it’s not good enough. You know you’re lying. You know you can’t truly protect me, no matter how hard you try. Life is dangerous. But life with you is a death sentence. You asked what happened when we were separated. I was free from you. Free to think for myself. Free from constant stares, judgment, danger, and I realised that I don’t… I don’t…” The words were stuck in my throat, and I tried to stay strong, forceful, but my eyes began to burn with unshed tears. “I realised that I don’t love you anymore,” I finally told her quietly.

Her expression, which was open and full of concern and pain, became a blank mask of indifference that I couldn’t read.

“Is that how you truly feel?” she asked me, her voice steady, and it scared me how emotionless she seemed.

“Yes,” I whispered, keeping eye contact with her, even though I could barely speak.

“Then it is unfortunate for you that your blood is so intoxicating,” she stepped towards me and domineeringly took hold of my waist.

“Selene!” I protested.

She leaned down to my ear.

“Address me with the correct titles and honorifics; a bloodbag does not have the privilege of addressing me by name,” shetold me with frightening calm, pressing her nose against the column of my neck and inhaling deeply. “Love me or hate me, it does not change your circumstances. You are mine.” She pulled me against her. “Do you understand?” she demanded, her lips ghosting across my skin as she spoke.

“I… You can’t keep me here against my will,” I protested.

She made an amused sound and nipped my neck painfully.

“Have you forgotten that you sold yourself to me? You are property, pet. You belong to me. And I will do what I please with what is mine,” she said, her arms wrapping around my waist, holding me tight against her.

I tried to push her away, but it was useless; I couldn’t escape her hold, no matter how much I tried.

“Please, Selene —” I tried to plead but was interrupted by a nasty bite that included her fangs and broke my skin. Without the effects of arousal and sensitivity, it was simply painful, and I cried out.

“Do not use my name,” she corrected, and began to lick the wound she had created.

“Stop this. Just let me go home,” I begged.

“Your home is wherever I am,” she declared, as she began to mark me.