Page 37 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

DARCY

T he hospital room is quiet, the morning light filtering through the blinds casting soft shadows across the bed. I sit beside my father, watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling steadily.

When he stirs, his eyes fluttering open, I lean forward, brushing his hair back. “Morning, Dad.”

“Darcy,” he murmurs, his voice rough. His gaze lands on me, softening with recognition.

“I’ve been here just since this morning,” I say, offering him a small smile. “Rose is fine. She’s at home with Kellan.”

Something flickers across his face at the mention of Kellan’s name, an emotion I can’t quite place. He says nothing, just nods slightly, his expression guarded.

The nurse comes in then, setting down a tray with his pills. “Here you go, Max,” she says cheerfully, handing him the small cup and some water. She glances at me. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please,” I say, grateful for the offer.

She leaves and returns moments later, placing a steaming cup on the table beside me. I thank her and take a sip, the bitter warmth a small comfort against the exhaustion tugging at me. I set the coffee down, a yawn escaping me.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell my father, needing a moment to wake myself up.

I head to the bathroom just down the hallway and wash my hands, then splash cold water on my face, shaking off the weariness that clings to me like a second skin.

When I return, my father is sitting up, his sharp eyes following me.

“I owe you an apology,” he says abruptly, his voice steady but low.

I stop, blinking in surprise. “Dad, we’ve already?—”

“No,” he cuts me off. “I need to say it again. I’ve failed you, Darcy. But I’m making things right now.”

My stomach twists at the weight of his words. “What are you talking about?”

Before he can respond, the door creaks open. Guy steps inside, his face split into a grin so smug it makes my skin crawl.

“It’s done,” he announces, his voice filled with self-satisfaction.

I blink, confused. “What’s done?”

Guy glances at my father, and Max gives a small nod of encouragement.

“I got your marriage annulled,” Guy says proudly, as if expecting gratitude. “You’re free of him now, Darcy.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath hitches, and I stare at him, my mind reeling.

“What did you just say?” I demand, my voice rising.

“We annulled your marriage,” Guy repeats.

“It’s for your own good,” Max says firmly, his tone as unyielding as stone.

I turn on him, my anger boiling over. “You had no right! Neither of you! How dare you make decisions for me like I’m some child who can’t think for herself!”

Guy reaches for me, his hand brushing my arm. “Darcy, calm down. We’re just looking out for you.”

I jerk away, my vision starting to blur. The room tilts, the walls closing in. My head swims, and my legs feel like lead.

“Darcy?” My father’s voice cuts through the haze, but it sounds distant, warped.

My grip on the chair falters, and I stagger. The dizziness intensifies, and the coffee I drank earlier churns in my stomach.

“Darcy!” Max’s voice is sharper now, laced with something like panic, or guilt.

I crumple to the floor, the cold linoleum pressing against my cheek. My limbs feel heavy, my vision darkening at the edges.

The last thing I hear before the darkness claims me is Guy’s voice, low and urgent. “We need to move. Now.”

When I wake, it feels like hours have passed, though it could only have been a few minutes. My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, the pounding relentless. I blink, feeling disoriented as my vision swims in the dim light. The smell of gasoline fills my nose, making my stomach churn.

It takes me a moment to understand what’s happening, but the cold press of metal against my back and the blackness around me send a jolt of panic through my veins.

I’m in a car trunk.

I struggle, but the sharp pull of something tight against my wrists and ankles halts me. My hands and feet are bound tightly with duct tape, the sticky material biting into my skin as I test my restraints.

My breaths come shallow and fast, my chest tightening with fear. I twist, trying to get my bearings. The surface beneath me vibrates faintly, the hum of an engine reaching my ears. The car is moving.

As my eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through a crack near the taillights, I spot something familiar. It’s a tattered duffel bag shoved into the corner. The sight of it makes my blood run cold.

It’s Guy’s bag.

The one I’ve seen slung over his shoulder countless times, its faded logo and frayed straps unmistakable.

This is his car.

My pulse thunders in my ears as the realization sinks in. Guy took me.

Panic claws at my chest, my breaths hitching as I tug at the tape binding my wrists. It doesn’t budge, the adhesive biting into my skin with every movement.

I try to focus, to think past the fear threatening to consume me. My father—he did this. He helped Guy. They planned this together.

The betrayal is like a knife to the gut, but there’s no time to dwell on it. I need to get out of here.

I twist again, ignoring the burn of the tape, the claustrophobic weight of the trunk pressing down on me. The car slows, the engine rumbling as it comes to a stop.

My heart races.

Where is he taking me?

I press my lips together, forcing myself to breathe through my nose, to quiet the sob building in my throat.

I can’t fall apart now.

I force myself to breathe. In and out. Slow and steady. Panicking won’t help.

My hands are still trembling, but I close my eyes, trying to recall everything I’ve ever learned about getting out of situations like this.

The self-defense class I took a few years ago rises in my mind. The instructor’s voice comes back to me like a lifeline. Duct tape is strong but not indestructible. Focus on leverage, not brute force.

I twist my ankles together, creating a gap in the tape. It burns against my skin, but I don’t stop. My movements are slow, careful. It takes time, too much time, but finally, my feet feel the cool freedom of movement.

I draw my legs up, the cramped space forcing me to bend awkwardly. My heart pounds as I shuffle to my side, twisting my body until I can reach the back panel of the trunk.

Another memory flashes. If you’re in a trunk, kick out the taillights. Make noise. Make yourself seen.

I shift, pressing my back against the wall of the trunk for leverage. My foot connects with the cool plastic of the taillight cover. The first kick doesn’t do much, but on the second try, the cover cracks, shards falling away.

Yes!

I wiggle my hand through the opening, feeling the rush of cool air outside. My fingers stretch as far as they’ll go, and I start waving frantically.

I don’t know if anyone will see me. I can only hope.

The car speeds up, and my heart lurches in time with it. My hand wavers, desperate, flailing against the taillight’s opening. We pull up to an intersection, and then I feel the sharp turn and increased speed telling us we’re on the interstate.

Fuck. Panic grips my heart and I pray that someone knows I’m here. Time seems to slow to a crawl. Where is he going to take me? What is he going to do with me?

Just as another wave of panic grips me by the throat, I see flashing blue and red lights.

Relief washes over me so suddenly I almost sob. The car slows, then jerks to a stop, throwing me sideways. I hear muffled voices outside, and the crunch of gravel as someone approaches.

“Driver, step out of the vehicle!”

My breath catches. It’s over.

The trunk is wrenched open, and blinding sunlight streams in. I wince as my eyes adjust.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” the officer asks, his tone laced with concern as he leans down to check on me.

“I’m okay,” I manage, my voice hoarse. “I think he drugged me.”

The officer nods, helping me out of the trunk and onto steady ground. My legs are weak, and I lean on him for support as I catch sight of Guy being cuffed, his face a mask of rage as he shouts protests at the officers.

“Darcy!” he yells, his voice venomous. “You’re making a mistake! I’m trying to save you!”

I flinch, but the officer steadies me, guiding me toward an ambulance already pulling up.

As the paramedics check me over, I watch Guy being shoved into the back of a squad car. The surrealness of it all settles over me and I just stare, unable to reconcile my father’s actions.

“Is there someone you want us to call for you?” the officer asks, coming up after Guy is driven away.

“My husband,” I say, my voice shaky. The officer presses a phone into my hands and I dial Kellan’s number, heart pounding in my chest.

He picks up on the second ring, and as I try to explain what happened to me, the tears begin to fall. The realization is sinking in that I could have been seriously hurt, or worse.

“I’m sorry!” I say, barely able to talk around the lump in my throat. “Oh, God, Kellan, I’m so sorry!”

“Darcy, where are you?” Kellan says, his voice gentle but firm. I look around and give him the intersection, and he promises he’ll be there as soon as possible before hanging up.

The paramedics try to get me to go into the ambulance, but I refuse. The idea of being taken back to the hospital right now makes me feel sick to my stomach. I just want Kellan. He’s the only person I feel safe with right now.

He manages to arrive in record time, probably breaking every speed law known to man, but as soon as he’s stepping out of his SUV, I push the paramedics away and run into his arms, clinging fiercely to him.

“I’m so sorry!” I sob, tears bubbling up again. “I don’t want an annulment!”

“Shh,” Kellan says, rubbing a hand over my back while he holds me tightly. “No one is annulling our marriage.”

“Guy… my coworker, he’s friends with my dad. He said he got our marriage annulled this morning!”

“Darcy,” Kellan says, pulling back to look at me, his arms on my shoulders. “No one can annul our marriage without the both of us being present. Whoever this man is, this Guy, he’s going to pay for what he did. I assure you of that.”

“I want to go home,” I sob, burying my face in his chest.

The paramedics try to insist on taking me to the hospital, but I refuse, and Kellan speaks to them in a low tone before they finally relent, giving me one last check before allowing Kellan to take me home with him.

Once we arrive, Rose is clearly upset at seeing how distraught I am, but Clary promises to take her to the park until I’ve calmed down. She also promises they can get some cotton candy from the park vendor as a bribe, so Rose willingly agrees to go.

“We’ll text you when you can bring her back,” Kellan promises as they leave.

He turns to me once they’re gone. “What do you need from me right now, Darcy?” Kellan asks, pulling me to his chest. “What do you need?”

“I need you,” I whisper. “Just you. I need to get out of my head. Can you do that thing where you tie me up and order me around?”

“Are you sure?” Kellan asks, a dubious look on his face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now. You’ve just had a whole ordeal. You’ve just been tied up, baby.”

“I’m sure,” I say firmly. “I need this. I need you. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to know that I belong to you.”

Kellan nods, taking me by the hand to lead me to the bedroom.