Page 146 of Shadows of Obsession

No. I survived months of this before. I can survive now. I just have to—

The echo of Daniel's hand meeting my face reverberated through the room, the sound arriving before the pain registered. My head snapped to the side from the force, and I tasted copper.

He gripped my jaw roughly, his fingers digging into my bruised skin as he forced me to look at him. The knife appeared again, tracing along my body with deliberate slowness. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth from where my teeth had cut into my cheek from the impact.

I realized with sudden clarity that I needed to fight back. I needed to do something.

As the knife grazed my bare stomach, a surge of defiance rose within me like a tidal wave. I gathered the blood pooling in my mouth and spat it directly into Daniel's face, challenging him with my eyes.

Daniel's shock lasted only a heartbeat before morphing into terrifying rage. His face contorted into something monstrous, and the knife—

The knife sliced deeper into my skin, far deeper than before.

I cried out. I couldn't help it. The sound tore from my throat, primal and agonized, before Daniel dropped the knife and wrapped both hands around my neck, squeezing tightly to silence me.

No air. I couldn'tbreathe again.

"You bitch," Daniel seethed, his words punctuated by flecks of spit hitting my face. His grip tightened, and my world narrowed to the cruel, unhinged look in his eyes. Pure hatred mixed with satisfaction. "You want to die, Anna? Fine. I'll kill you now, and then I'll go find your friends and take my anger out on them. Just know as you die that it's your fault they're going to suffer."

No. Please, not them.

As Daniel's rant ended, his hands clamped down even harder, cutting off my air supply completely. My body instinctively bucked and flailed, a desperate attempt to draw breath, but my movements were weak, ineffective against the ropes still binding my limbs.

Daniel's strength was unyielding, fueled by his twisted determination to destroy me.

A profound sense of finality washed over me. I was going to die here.

The edges of my vision darkened, tunneling down to just Daniel's face looming over me. My struggles grew weaker as oxygen deprivation took hold. My lungs burned like fire.

In that moment, as consciousness began to slip away, a profound sense of resignation washed over me. With it came the release of the tears I'd been holding back, salty drops streaming down my face, hot against my cold skin.

My final thought was for the man I loved. For the man who didn’t know I loved him. I’d die never having had the chance to tell him.

Through the haze of pain and fading consciousness, I saw the sick satisfaction in Daniel's eyes, reveling in my suffering, in finally breaking me. At least it would be over. At least he couldn't hurt me anymore after this.

Just as I felt myself slipping away, just as the darkness was almost complete, a shadow appeared in the doorway.

At first, I thought it was a hallucination, my oxygen-starved brain conjuring a final mercy. The shadow took on a familiar shape: tall, broad-shouldered, unmistakable even in silhouette.

Jaxon.

Despite the dire circumstances, despite the fact that I was dying, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. If this was to be my lastmoment, I would rather it be filled with the image of Jaxon than the cruel visage of my tormentor.

Suddenly, the pressure around my neck vanished.

Air rushed into my lungs in a painful, gasping wheeze. The sound of a violent struggle filled the room. Grunts, the crash of bodies hitting furniture, the thud of fists on flesh.

I gulped in precious air, my lungs burning as they expanded. Each breath was agonizing but wonderful. I was still on the verge of losing consciousness, black spots dancing in my vision, yet I managed to turn my head.

My eyes widened at the scene unfolding beside the bed.

Jaxon had come. He had found me.

The realization hit like a bolt of lightning, a surge of hope and relief tearing through my battered body with such intensity it almost hurt. Through heavy-lidded eyes, I watched as Jaxon and Daniel grappled on the floor, fists flying, bodies slamming against furniture.

"Jax—" I tried to call out, wanting to warn him, to help somehow, but my voice was barely audible, my throat too damaged from being strangled.

But it was enough.