Page 19 of Crushed Vow

I froze.

No. No, no, no.

Not again.

“Let go!” I screamed, louder this time, my voice ragged, feral from fear. “Let go of me!”

“Charlotte...”

The voice was calm and familiar. Not from in front of me—but behind.

“Charlotte,” he said again, closer now. Gentle. Cautious. Like he was speaking to something fragile, something that might shatter if touched the wrong way.

I turned sharply, eyes swimming with tears, my body shivering, and see Cassian, his bloodshot eyes wide, his blood-streaked face, still raw from the crash—etched with pity.

He’s close, but his hands hover, not touching, his breath heavy with whiskey. “Charlotte, breathe,” he says, his voice soft, a balm against my panic. “You’re safe with me.”

I blink, my hands shaking as I look back—no Cassian in front of me, only a wall, its paint chipped where I’ve been pounding, my blood smearing the plaster.

My heart stops, my mind reeling.

Was I hitting the wall, like Tess in the ward, screaming at nothing?

Fear grips me, my body trembling harder, my voice shook. “Was I... Was I just...?”

“Babe,” he said softly, “You’re perfectly okay. You’re just... overwhelmed.”

The pity in his gaze cuts deeper, telling me something’s wrong, despite his words.

“No,” I whispered, backing away. “No, I’m not. I thought I was hitting you. I—I saw you. I heard you—”

“Let me take care of you,” he says, stepping closer, his hands still hovering. “You’ve been through hell, Charlotte. Let me help.”

“No!” I scream, my voice shrill, my hands pulling at my hair, strands tearing free.

“You’ll make it worse!” I bolt for the door, yanking it open, the cold night air hitting my face as I run, my bare feet pounding the pavement, my heart screaming:

I need to escape.

I need to escape him.

He chained me, leashed me, slaved me.

My mind jumbles—his voice, “Call me master” blending with the ward’s darkness and my screams in solitary.

I’m not mad, right? I know my name—Charlotte—but the world blurs.

I ran until I reached the tennis court at the back of the estate—the one Elodie brought me to, her laughter echoing from that day she offered to help me escape.

I see her—blonde hair, bright smile—walking toward me.

“Elodie!” I call, my voice breaking, my heart lifting.

Elodie’s safe, not one of the monsters—Cassian, Grayson—who hurt me.

I step forward, smiling, my hands reaching.

“Miss?” A male voice shatters the vision, my chest collapsing.