Yolanda Sfetsos - Alex Wales - Promise

Milo closed his eyes and held the weapon out for Elroy, who removed one of his hands from his grip on Alex. He tightened the other on her wrist, yanking her backward. She protested and looked as if she were trying to wiggle out of his grasp but couldn’t. When Elroy wrapped his bony fingers around the weapon, he pressed the barrel to the side of Alex’s head.

“Good. Now that everything’s been cleared up, let’s go.” Elroy looked so smug.

For the first time in his life, Damon felt useless. He didn’t know much about guns, but he suspected the laser shot from the barrel had the ability to not only wound and kill, but also temporarily stun the victim. His entire left side drooped downward, and he couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to move. Let alone come to their rescue.

The arcane he’d managed to draw within him was helping to heal the wound, but it provided no relief in getting sensation back into his arm. Besides, his use of magic only involved defense, not attack.

He met Alex’s eyes. She was staring back at him, but she didn’t look disappointed or hurt, just frustrated. I’m sorry, she mouthed.

Damon didn’t understand what she had to be sorry about, but he’d make sure Elroy regretted this. He wasn’t sure how he’d do it, because he couldn’t think clearly at the moment, but he’d somehow manage.

“Tie him up,” Elroy ordered Milo with a motion of his head.

The younger man looked a little scared as he approached, so Damon tried his best to hold out his arms in front of him and said, “It’s okay, Milo. Do it. I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re always the hero, aren’t you?” Elroy dragged on Alex’s arm, and she cried out. “You’re always the one who’s there to help the injured or sick, but you have no idea how many have slipped through your fingers without your knowledge.”

“When I get my blaster back, I’m going to blow your head off!” Alex spat, trying to break away from his hold.

Elroy laughed. “I don’t think so.”

Milo had already secured one of the plastic ties around Damon’s wrists and started on the other.

Alex continued to squirm against Elroy and managed to smack the back of her head hard enough against his face to cause him to stumble back a step. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to lose his grip on both Alex and the gun, but it only took him an instant to regain his step. He dropped her wrist and instead wrapped an arm around the front of Alex’s body.

“Get your hands off me, you creep!” she exclaimed, still struggling against him.

Damon wished she would just calm down, because she was only making it harder on herself. Struggling against a man with a weapon would only tire her and anger him .

Yet, he already understood enough about Alex’s temperament to know she wouldn’t listen.

With a defiant smile on his face and blood dribbling from his nose, Elroy lifted the weapon and smacked the butt of it against the back of her head. He let go, and she slid to the floor, unconscious.

“You bastard!” Damon hissed, standing up. Milo had finished securing the bindings around his wrists, but he still had a mostly functioning right leg. When he took a step forward, someone grabbed his forearm. He turned to find Levi.

“He’s not worth it.”

“I think that’s the first smart thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Elroy said with a chuckle. “Now, which one of you pansy boys is going to carry the whore for me?”

Levi stepped forward to volunteer.

“Good. Let’s get going. My patience is wearing thin.”

When Damon stepped out of the room-Milo helping him limp along the corridor and Levi carrying Alex behind them-he wondered what the hell Elroy hoped to achieve by doing this. Aleena had shown nothing but hospitality toward Alex, so how would she react when she saw this stupid scheme of his?

A chill seized his stomach.

As much as he wanted to believe in their Priestess, he couldn’t help but recall a particular sentence in the book he’d borrowed: A true Priestess hides nothing from her people, and hopes only to spread honor, pay tribute, and be thankful for what her Goddess provides her land with.

When Ulric opened his eyes and stretched his body, he felt a sense of disorientation. It deepened when he tried to stand up and found that he couldn’t. The top of his shoulders were constricted, and his head was forced to lean into his chest.

What the hell?

He remembered falling asleep underneath Alex’s window, full of anger toward the woman who’d denied him. No one had ever turned him down before-not the way she had. Then again, he’d never made such a serious offer to a woman, either.

In his dreams, he’d fantasized about being the one who made her cry out and squirm at his every touch. It helped him temporarily forget he’d promised himself he’d make her pay.

Where the hell am I?

He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands and looked around, feeling the pull of his muscles as he struggled to find a comfortable position.

Everywhere he turned, he faced thick, metal bars. He wrapped his fingers around them, pulling hard, trying to break or separate them. They refused to budge. He was trapped inside a cage. How the hell did this happen?

He pressed his face against the bars, defeated yet again.

Pitch black surrounded him, and a cold so severe, it seeped in through his naked flesh and into his very bones. Lowering himself to his knees, he inspected the barren area he was in. It seemed to be some sort of cavernous area with rocky outcrops on the edges. Except for the moon filtering in from the gap high above, there was no other light. Where the cage had been placed, it didn’t reach him, but he could still feel the cool fingers of moonlight trying to reach him.

He’d learned the hard way-if the moon wasn’t touching him, it couldn’t affect him.

Did someone else know, too? Who moved him?

The longer he stared between the bars of the square box he’d been stuck in, the more he could make out. The stairs located behind him appeared to have been literally carved into the rock wall and had been smoothed out by years of constant use. The glare of monitors reflected the area around him. He also noticed that the gap at the top of the ceiling was mirrored on the floor directly below. Several feet from where he was, Ulric could make out an abyss. What was this place, and what the hell was he doing in here?

He might be confused about the location, but what alarmed him the most was the familiarity. For some reason, it felt as if tiny, fragmented memories were trying to seep into his head about this restricted area. He knew no one was supposed to be here, as his mother had told him many times…

These can’t be my memories. Just like me, both of my parents were born and raised on Anteris.

There’s something very strange going on, and I don’t like it one bit.

He leaned forward, once again placing his face against the cool, metal bars. “Hello?” He doubted anyone would answer, but it was worth a shot. How much more insane could he get at this stage?

“Hello, there,” a female stepped out of the shadows. “I was wondering when you would wake.”

His heart somersaulted in his chest. Why does this woman look and sound so familiar? He swallowed the lump in his throat. “What am I doing here?”

The woman took a step closer, and her lovely features glowed under the moon’s radiance. She was beautiful and had the kindest face he’d ever seen. Her blue eyes were pale but warm. Her skin as luminescent as the long dress she wore. Her bare toes peeked out beneath the dress, and her blonde hair was so long, it tumbled over her shoulders and reached her waist. He’d never seen a woman who encompassed what he imagined a Goddess would look like.