Chapter 4

CAGED 

 Elena's POV 

"Miss Martinez, stop!"

Heavy footsteps pounded behind me. I took a corner too fast, my foot slipped, and suddenly I was falling. My knee cracked against the marble floor. Pain exploded up my leg.

"Are you hurt?" One of the guards reached me first, his expression concerned.

"Don't touch me!" I scrambled backward, cradling my knee. Blood seeped from a scrape across my kneecap, staining the expensive floor.

"What happened?" Damien's voice cut through everything.

He appeared at the end of the hallway, still in his wedding tuxedo though his tie was gone and his shirt was unbuttoned at the throat. He looked at me on the floor, at the blood, and something flickered across his face.

"She tried to run, sir," the guard explained.

"Leave us," Damien said quietly.

"Sir, she's injured.."

"I said leave us."

The guards retreated. I heard their footsteps fade away, leaving me alone with him.

Damien approached slowly, like I was a wild animal that might bolt. Maybe I was.

"Let me see," he said.

"Stay away from me."

He ignored me, kneeling down and reaching for my leg. I tried to pull away, but his hands were firm, gentle, holding my calf steady as he examined my knee.

"It's not deep," he said. "But it needs to be cleaned."

"I don't care."

Without warning, he scooped me up in his arms. I yelped, immediately trying to push away, but his grip was iron.

"Stop fighting me, Elena."

"I hate you."

"I know."

He carried me back to the bedroom, my prison and set me down on the edge of the bed. He disappeared into the attached bathroom and returned with a first aid kit.

I watched, numb, as he knelt before me again. This man who'd just threatened to keep me locked away was now carefully cleaning my wound with antiseptic. His touch was tender, almost reverent. He applied ointment with gentle fingers, then covered the scrape with a bandage.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered. "Why are you being kind now?"

He looked up at me, his gray eyes unreadable. "I never said I was kind, Elena. I said you were mine. There's a difference."

His hand moved from my knee to my ankle, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. The touch sent shivers up my spine despite everything.

"You think this is cruelty?" he continued. "Keeping you here? This is mercy. Out there, the press will eat you alive. My father's enemies will use you. You destroyed my wedding, Elena. There are people who will want revenge for that."

"So you're protecting me by making me a prisoner?"

"I'm protecting what's mine."

He stood, looking down at me with an expression I couldn't decipher. Possessive. Angry. Wanting. All at once.

"Get some rest," he said. "You've had a long day."

He moved toward the door.

"Damien," I called out. He paused. "Are you really going to keep me here? Forever?"

He didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was soft. Certain.

"However long it takes."

"Takes for what?"

"For you to understand that you belong to me. That you've always belonged to me."

The door closed behind him.

I sat there on the Black sheets, my bandaged knee throbbing, my heart confused. I should hate him. I did hate him. But that tender touch, the way he'd cared for my wound, the possessiveness in his voice, it all twisted together into something I couldn't name.

I changed into the nightgown someone had left on the bed, white silk that felt like water against my skin. Too expensive. Too beautiful. Too much like something a kept woman would wear.

I turned off the lights and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to my body. The sheets smelled like expensive detergent and something else. Something that reminded me of Damien.

I wouldn't sleep. I couldn't possibly sleep in this place, in this situation. But exhaustion pulled at me, dragging me down into uneasy darkness.

I don't know what woke me. A sound. A presence. A change in the air. My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the darkness. And then I saw him.

Damien stood at the foot of my bed, bathed in moonlight from the windows. Still in his dress shirt and pants, but the shirt was fully unbuttoned now, revealing the lines of his chest. His eyes gleamed in the darkness as he stared down at me.

My breath caught.

"Damien? What are you.."

"I've been patient," he said quietly. His voice was rough. Dark. "I've given you space. Time to adjust."

He moved around the bed slowly, deliberately. A predator circling prey.

"But I think we both know that's not what you really want, is it, Elena?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. I pulled the covers tighter.

"You stood up in that cathedral," he continued, coming closer. "You declared your feelings in front of three hundred people. You forced my hand. Now you get to live with the consequences."

He reached the side of the bed. Looked down at me with eyes that burned.

"You're mine, Elena. And tonight, I'm going to prove it."