Page 22 of Savage Captor (Deadly Devotion #1)

Scarlett

M oving positions from sitting to laying down makes breathing even more difficult—not to mention the stress on my thigh—so I prop the single ratty pillow I’ve been allotted behind myself, and try to doze off.

Sleep barely touches me before my father finds his way into my dreams. Then, it warps, twisting into a night terror so vicious it forces me back to consciousness. I’m gasping, shaking, my mind fractured, its pieces scattered between past and present.

My body is wrecked—limbs heavy, pain pooling deep in my thigh, my chest, and somewhere else harder to name…

maybe my very soul. I don’t know which part of me aches more, only that it all builds into a hollow, haunted weight.

I want to crawl in a hole and forget about this miserable life.

It doesn’t seem like there are any merits to living anymore…

I’m reaching for my bottle of water, fingers clumsy from exhaustion, when the door opens once more. I’m expecting the doctor to be back yet again, but instead, Monster stands in the doorway.

This time, he doesn’t sweep the room with a calculating glance. His focus is locked on me, unwavering and unnerving. His eyes burn—not with fury or disinterest, but with something else. Something deliberate, perhaps intent .

Shit. He’s probably decided to kill me and be done with it.

I’ve goaded him one too many times, given him too much shit.

I didn’t exactly hold my tongue in our last interaction, and I don’t know that I’ll bother doing so now.

I scan him for weapons—a knife or a gun—but he’s not carrying any.

He’s wearing a black T-shirt over washed-out grey jeans, and the tattoos on his arms ripple as he strides into the room.

If I weren’t almost certain he’s about to kill me, I might ask him about them.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, stopping at the foot of the bed.

I blink. “Like you’d expect. Shitty.” Ready to die.

Monster nods, raking his gaze over me. His lips thin when his eyes land on my outstretched leg, on the bandage covering my thigh.

Discomfort bursts to life in my belly at his examination, but I don’t say anything.

I’m in no position to stop him from looking at me or doing whatever the hell he wants to me. All I can do is try to endure.

“I heard you caught pneumonia.”

“Surprisingly, starving someone and filling their lungs up with water occasionally leads to consequences.”

Monster’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He gazes back at the door. “Yeah. That seems to be the case.”

For a moment, Monster looks uncomfortable, almost nervous.

I watch as he shifts his weight from foot to foot and runs his hand over his dark brown hair.

But after a few heartbeats of tense silence, he sits at the foot of my bed, and fixes his gaze on me.

Any hint of nervousness has been wiped away from his features, leaving behind an impassive mask.

Not the rageful look he used to wear when visiting me, but something else.

Something new and unnerving. It looks like unbending determination.

Is he determined to kill me and get this bullshit over with?

“We need to have a conversation,” he says, his tone deepened. It’s the same tone he used when he got me to take the antibiotics earlier—dark and smoky, a little gritty, and filled with authority.

I stare at him, unable to conjure up a response.

“Things with the Nighthawks are currently… complicated. There are changes in the air. Systems that will soon be implemented.”

Why isn’t he killing me already? “What do those systems have to do with me?” I ask.

“They directly impact your future. I’ve talked it over with my superiors, and a few decisions have been made. What I said before stands; I will protect you.” He swallows again. “And I won’t be letting you go.”

My stomach sinks. Renewed dread creeps into my bones. I try to take in a deep breath, but pain sears my ribs, sharp and unyielding. A cough tears out of my mouth, violent and unforgiving, and the second it begins, I regret letting it out.

Agony fractures through my chest, digging deeper with each cough and subsequent convulsion.

My throat burns. My lungs rebel. My eyes sting with the effort to hold back the next cough—but it’s useless.

The coughs come anyway, wracking through me and doubling me over, folding me into myself as I fight against my body—which refuses to cooperate.

Then, Monster’s hands are on me. They clamp over my shoulders, and suddenly, he’s touching me. My breathing stutters, trapped somewhere between pain and fear, and I can’t decide which is worse.

Monster’s touching me without hurting me, gentling me back while instructing me to breathe in that deep voice that leaves no room for question.

I instinctively jerk away from his touch, but that only makes him grab me with a firmer grip.

He’s changed seats from the foot of the bed to the side of it, and his large, imposing frame is leaned over me.

Even as my coughing subsides, my breaths speed, turning into labored pants.

“Easy,” he says. “Just breathe—that’s it. Good girl.”

“Don’t… call me that,” I wheeze. I don’t like how the words sound, and the impact they have on me. The way they make something inside of me glow, even while the rest of me revolts.

He squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll call you what I want to call you, Scarlett. It’ll be easier on you if you get used to that idea.”

“ Please stop touching me—”

“No. You need to get used to this too, because I plan on touching you every chance I get.”

What? Like, to hurt me more? Is he getting the doctor to take care of me only so the whole process of torture can repeat itself? I don’t know if I can take much more. God, how I long for an end to this pain, to this confusion.

“Not like that,” Monster says, sensing the direction of my thoughts. “Fuck, this isn’t going how I thought it would.”

“Understatement,” I quip weakly. “How do you think I feel?”

A small smile pulls on the corner of his lips.

“Not too good, I’m sure.” He clears his throat.

“When I said I’m not going to let you go, what I meant is that I’m going to claim you.

Claim you as my woman. There’s an old tradition with the Nighthawks, one that’s being reinstated.

Every worthy Nighthawk will be awarded the opportunity to find a woman of his choosing, bring her here, and claim her as his own.

Train her to suit his needs while training himself to suit hers.

” Then, he delivers the words that make my heart shrivel up and start rotting away into a withering husk, like a summer flower at the first frost. “You’re going to be the first claimed woman in nearly a century—a great honor for both of us. ”

My already- quickened heart rate speeds up until it hurts.

My eyes widen so much it’s a wonder they don’t pop out of my skull.

They sting with tears as I stare at Monster, my lips parting.

He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, he can’t be that cruel, but he is.

He stares at me with unwavering confidence, his earlier doubt disappearing.

“You… you’re going to turn me into a sex slave ,” I whisper. Jesus Christ, I never imagined things would go in this direction. I assumed that, since nobody’s touched me that way so far, nobody would touch me… except apparently, I have the worst luck in the world—or just no luck at all.

My nightmare has just gotten a whole lot darker. Before, it was pain, but now it’s going to be sex. I’m going to have to have sex with the Monster who scarred my body and drowned me repeatedly. I’m going to have to stay here , wherever here is, and become a… a blow-up doll .

“No,” Monster says a little quickly. His tone falters, switching from the eternally deep voice to his usual low tenor-range voice. “No, it’s not like that. You’re not being sold. Your purpose in life won’t be to sleep with me—”

I’m barely listening to him. “Monster, why ?” I breathe. “I didn’t do anything to your brother, or to you. I’m fucking innocent. Why—” I can’t help the crack in my voice or the single tear that drips down my cheek. “ Why would you do this to me? ”

“It’s the best option out of a slew of shitty ones,” he says. “This way, you stay alive and safe. I can look after you. I can provide—”

“ I don’t want you to provide shit for me!

” I snap, finding the strength to raise my voice.

“I want you to either kill me or let me the fuck go! I have a life . I have goals and aspirations. I was in university, against all odds . I escaped my father, I got away, and I clawed my way to a decent life with a promising future. You’re—you’re going to take that away from me? After everything else you’ve done? ”

Monster’s eyes flash with something I think might be guilt, but he doesn’t act on it. He does give my shoulders a squeeze, though, a gesture that I assume is meant to be comforting but only makes me flinch.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I know that you don’t trust me, that you probably despise me, but it won’t change anything.”

“I—” I cut off to choke back a sob, trying to blink back the tears that keep welling in my eyes. There’s no sense crying in front of Monster. “I just don’t understand. Why… why would you do this to me? If you can choose anyone, why would you choose me? ”

Monster blinks slowly. “I respect you. I admire you.”

“So you’re stealing me away from the world to use as your sex slave?”

Monster lets out a long breath. “I would say it’s not like that, but it is. Your body is now mine to do with what I want, but you’re also mine to take care of . To look after. Once you’ve settled, you’ll even be allowed to go back to civilization for short visits—”