Chapter Seven

Maya’s POV

My mind struggles to keep up with what my eyes are witnessing. One moment, Cole is staring at me like I am his prey. The next, the man who bought me appears, moving faster than I’ve ever seen.

I hear a sickening thud, the sound of breath being knocked from lungs, and Cole suddenly vanishes from in front of me. I gasp behind the gag.

The stranger now stands between us.

He looks bigger up close — broader, solid, like nothing could move him if he didn’t want to be moved. His chest rises and falls slowly, but I can sense something dangerous beneath that calm, something he’s holding back. His eyes lock onto mine again.

And that strange feeling hits me.

Safety.

It makes no sense. I don’t know this man. He just bought me at an auction, like a painting. Men don’t spend that kind of money to be kind. My stomach twists at the thought of what he must expect in return.

His hands move to the chains around my ankles.

I freeze.

Is this it? Is this where it gets worse?

Instead, the metal snaps. My eyes widen in shock as the cuffs fall away from my skin. The sudden loss of their weight nearly throws me off balance. Before I can process that, he reaches for the bindings on my wrists.

For a split second, I panic, expecting pain.

Instead, the restraints rip apart in his hands like paper.

I stumble forward.

He catches me before I fall. I go completely rigid in his arms. My body doesn’t know what to do. Every muscle is locked, waiting for the pain that usually follows being touched. My breath comes in short, broken pulls through my nose. Then his fingers move to the gag.

I whimper, trembling and fearful. I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting another painful encounter.

Instead, I feel the gag loosen.

Air rushes into my lungs as he pulls it free. My jaw aches as I try to close my mouth properly again. My lips tremble as I try to breathe normally, but it comes out in uneven gasps. “Shh,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I don’t believe him.

I want to believe him, but I don’t.

Nobody says it’s okay unless it isn’t. Nobody says I’ve got you unless they mean you belong to me now. My body begins shaking uncontrollably. Now that the chains are gone, I feel even more exposed somehow. My arms instinctively cover my chest. The thin lace exposes my skin underneath, and I am practically naked in front of this man.

His arm wraps around me.

Not tight or forceful, just there.

Warm.

Solid.

I hate that my body reacts before my mind does. I hate that some broken part of me wants to lean into that warmth. I force myself to stay tense. I must stay alert. I must be ready.

Cole is still in the room. I can hear him moving, hear the anger in his breathing. My heart begins to race again.

Please don’t fight.

Please don’t make him angry again. I silently plead.

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

The words vibrate through the man’s chest where I’m pressed against him. I feel them more than hear them.

No one has ever spoken like that for me before.

Not for me.

At me. About me. Because of me. But never for me. My brain doesn’t know what to do with that.

He lifts me suddenly.

I let out a small cry of surprise as the ground disappears beneath my feet. Instinctively, I try to pull away, but my body is too weak. Everything hurts. My muscles feel like wet paper.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

He does not threaten; his hands do not fold around my neck, he doesn’t dig his fingers into bruises. He doesn’t try to force my head up. He just holds me as if I might fall apart.

Maybe I already have.

I risk opening my eyes.

Cole is staring at us with pure hatred. His face is twisted, his eyes burning into me as if he can still reach me somehow. My stomach drops.

He isn’t done.

Men like him are never done.

“You touch her,” the man holding me says quietly, “you look at her, and I swear to the Moon

Goddess, you will regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

There’s something final in his voice. Not a threat. A promise.

Cole doesn’t answer.

For the first time since I’ve known him, he looks unsure.

The man carrying me turns and walks toward the door.

Every step feels unreal. Like I’m watching someone else’s life. Like if I blink too hard, I’ll be back on that stage, back in chains, back in that nightmare.

I don’t realize I’m crying until a tear slides into my ear. Then another. And another.

I don’t know what comes next.

As he lifts me up to take me away, I find myself wondering something terrifying: Did I just escape one cage to be carried into another?