Page 8 of The Immortal’s One (Bound to the Immortals #1)

So much for not being abducted.

The moment sunlight presses against my eyes, dragging me from a sleep that barely dulled the ache in my body, I know I’m not in my bedroom.

Sharp gravel.

A body slamming into a car with a sickening thud.

Screams slicing through the air like jagged glass.

The memories hit me hard, flooding my mind with terrifying clarity and coating my veins with fresh fear.

I try to sit up, but a jolt of agony through my ribs has me collapsing with a gasp. The soft pillow beneath my head offers only fleeting comfort. My body screams with pain, and it takes everything I have just to open my eyes.

The room is… ornate. Dark wood furniture, heavy and grand, sits throughout the room.

Golden knobs glint on the dresser like they've been recently polished.

White lace curtains flutter in the breeze blowing through the window to my left.

A beautiful mural of pink and purple clouds covers the ceiling .

Where the hell am I?

My fingers brush against the fabric covering my body.

It’s lace, too. The pale lavender hue matches the delicate floral wallpaper lining the walls.

Four carved spiral posts reach up from the corners of the bed, twisting toward the ceiling like something out of an old storybook.

Flowers and vines curl into the woodwork, as if carved by hand.

You'd expect to find this room in a grandparent’s house—not that I would know. I never met my grandparents, but Dad’s old antique desk, which he inherited from his late father, would feel right at home here.

I exhale slowly, trying to gather my thoughts.

This… this isn’t the kind of place a kidnapper would stash someone, right?

Maybe my abductor had a change of heart. Maybe they don’t plan on hurting me. Maybe they have a reason for bringing me here.

A girl can hope.

I wince as I push the blanket off me, every movement deliberate and slow to avoid aggravating my ribs. Biting my cheek to suppress my cry, I sit up and gingerly swing my legs over the side of the bed.

My shoulders roll forward, and I grit my teeth and breathe through my nose as I wait for the worst of the pain to pass.

You can do this, Darcie. Get up.

With a deep breath, I brace and slide off the mattress.

The moment my feet touch the floor, the world tilts, my ribs ache, and fiery pain claws through my body.

I clutch the nearest bedpost like a lifeline and squeeze my eyes shut. Stars flash behind my eyelids, keeping pace with my pulse. Another stab of pain accompanies each one while I force myself to breathe, praying I won’t pass out again .

I tighten my grip on the post and hiss. My palms sting, raw and scratched. The skin on my face pulls taut when I grimace, another reminder of how my attacker shoved me into the sharp gravel.

I shudder, the memory like ice working down my spine until I shove it aside. I can’t think about what happened in that parking lot right now. I need to focus and figure out where I am.

I pry my eyelids open, ignoring the pain, and steady myself. I keep hold of the bedpost, willing the room to stop spinning while my heart hammers in my chest.

Then I lower my gaze and stiffen. I’m wearing a nightgown; the silky, almost weightless fabric is cool against my skin.

Someone dressed me while I was unconscious…

My stomach churns.

With a moan, I reach over to grab the knitted blanket folded at the foot of the bed and drape it over my shoulders.

Looking back around the room, I frown. There are no answers here.

I don’t see any of my belongings—no clothes, no phone. I can’t call Dad or Kayla, and I can’t look up my location with GPS.

I shuffle toward the window, gripping the ends of the blanket tight in front of me, and look outside.

I suck in a breath.

What the ? —

Acres of manicured lawn stretch far beyond the window, ending in a dense forest. Hedges are trimmed into bizarre shapes, and scattered stone statues serve as silent sentinels across the grounds.

A pond in the distance glints in the light, and a fountain sprays water into the air, its sound mingling with the chirping birds drifting in through the window.

But… it's December. The trees should be weighed down by snow, and the ground should be buried under a blanket of white…

I scan the lawn again, searching for anything to give me a clue as to where I am. But there’s nothing. No landmarks. No familiar sights.

I swallow.

I’m not in Brunswick.

I don’t even think I’m in Maine.

I turn away from the window. Besides the patio doors, there are two other doors in the room. One rests slightly ajar. Through the opening, I spot a vanity and a sink. The other door is closed.

That’s where I need to go.

Each step tugs my ribs, making it hard to breathe. I push through. I have to. Staying in here isn’t an option.

My hand trembles as I reach for the bronze doorknob. I half-expect it to be locked right before I twist the metal.

Click.

Every muscle in my body is coiled tight as I inch the door open, praying no one waits on the other side.

I get it about half a foot open and pause to listen.

There’s no alarm. No footsteps race to intercept me.

I exhale, allowing some tension to drain from my muscles, and pull the door wider to poke my head out. A hallway stretches in both directions. It’s empty, save for more of the ornate, old-world décor.

I step into the hallway and ease the door shut behind me. If my abductor comes looking for me, I don’t want them to realize I’ve left the room right away. I need time to figure out how to escape.

You’re not getting far with a cracked rib.

I ignore my inner voice and stagger forward. Each step is a battle. Hope fuels me, stubborn and unwavering, even as my body screams for rest.

The hallway stretches out before me, disappearing around corners in both directions. I hesitate, uncertain which way to go, when voices reach me—distant and muffled.

I flatten myself against the wall, tears burn in my eyes from the sudden movement. My pulse thunders in my ears. Adrenaline floods my bloodstream. My only cover is the massive vase beside me, overflowing with greenery. I move closer to it, hoping I’m small enough to go unnoticed.

The voices continue.

I try to brace for a confrontation, but I have no idea what I should say. Or do.

Good news for me, no one comes around the corner.

Seconds stretch into what feels like forever until I decide the coast is clear.

Moving cautiously, I step out from my hiding spot and head toward the source of the noise. Rounding the corner, I stop dead in my tracks. A towering oak door looms ahead on the other side of an open loft.

Above, a grand crystal chandelier hangs like something out of a palace ballroom, its pristine surface gleaming. Beneath it, a wide, open foyer stretches below.

This place is massive. And… fancy.

Where the hell am I?

Shaking off the awe this place inspires, I return to the task at hand. The plush carpet muffles my footsteps as I cross the loft .

I stop next to the door, leaning my shoulder against the cool wall. I thought the door was closed, but it’s cracked. I work to steady my breathing, hoping whoever is inside won’t hear me through the narrow opening.

When no one bursts through the door, I assume I’m good.

I rest my ear against the crack between the door frame and the wooden door and listen.

“How could you be so foolish?” a woman’s voice cuts through the air, sharp with anger. She has an accent, but I can’t place it. “She’s going to have questions!”

“Would you rather we had left her there injured and at risk of someone else harming her?” a man retorts, strained and defensive.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize they’re talking about me. At least it sounds like my abductor isn’t planning to hurt me…

That’s something, I guess.

Careful not to bump the door, I peer through the narrow gap between the door’s hinges.

The room beyond is richly decorated, draped in hues of green and burgundy.

I count four figures—two men and two women.

The women sit on a forest-green sofa, their backs to me.

One man sits in a chair, his profile visible.

The other man paces between the sitting area and an unlit fireplace, his movement restless.

Thane.

Shock nearly chokes me. I press my hand against my mouth to smother the noise.

I hadn’t considered he’d be involved in my abduction, but now that I see him… I should’ve known. Both he and Des had said things at the club that didn’t sit right with me. Strange things. Things that made me want to get away from them .

Looks like I was right.

Thane’s shoulders are rigid, his movements agitated.

The woman speaks again, but I can’t tell which one it is from my limited view. “I would’ve preferred that you never approached her at all.”

“I won’t be lectured.” Thane crosses his arms. “I did what I thought was best.”

“You shouldn’t have approached her.” Her accented tone grows colder as she shakes her head. She’s the woman with ink-black hair. “You endangered her life by bringing her to our enemy’s attention.”

My brows furrow in confusion. Enemy’s attention?

What is she talking about?

Thane doesn’t back down. “Our enemies would have found her eventually. There’s no way she could have remained hidden.”

“I don’t know,” the man in the chair speaks up, his voice low. “She managed to go unnoticed before you showed up in her town.”

Dread curls in my belly.

“Why couldn’t you just admit she was The One before she left the club?” Thane’s voice sharpens, biting with accusation, as he whirls to face someone out of view. “If you had, she never would’ve walked out alone. And she never would’ve been hurt.”

The One?

I don’t know what that means, but I’ve clearly stumbled into something far more dangerous than I realized.

These people aren’t the men who attacked me in the parking lot. The dark-haired woman acts like she cares about my safety.

Still, I don’t know if I can trust them to protect me. But given my circumstances, I don’t think I have much choice. I can’t hide forever. Eventually, they will want to talk to me. Might as well make it happen on my terms.

Decision made: I straighten my spine but wince when it tugs on my ribs.

I really need to see a doctor.

I brace my core, prepared for the pain, as I move to myself to make my presence known.

Before I can stake a step, a voice slices through the tension on the other side of the door, “Because, as I’ve already told you, she is not The One .”

My heart skips a beat. I shouldn’t recognize that voice. I’ve only heard it twice. But I know, with a certainty that rattles me, that it belongs to Des.

“And it’s not my fault the girl was injured,” Des adds, with an indifference that makes my forehead crease.

“It most certainly is your fault,” Thane snaps back. “If you’d admitted the truth, she would’ve been protected. Instead, she was attacked.”

“You have no proof our enemies initiated this attack. The men were human.”

Human? As in… there are things out there that aren’t?

I place a palm against the door to steady myself.

What the hell is going on here?

I don’t manage to come up with an answer before the door I’m leaning against swings back, slamming into my forehead with a loud thud.