Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
The sheets are the softest I’ve ever felt. The pillows are filled with down, firm but plush at the same time. Even the sheets and blankets that cover me to the waist feel silky, far nicer than any blankets I’ve ever had on my own bed. If I went back to my room now, I’d probably be surprised at how rough those sheets are in comparison.
But they would be my sheets, and it would be my bed, not this stranger’s in this odd place that doesn’t feel real.
I roll over to face the window and sigh.
It can’t be real, can it? This whole place, and the world outside, can’t be real. And yet I touch my chest and can feel my heartbeat. I pinch my skin and feel the sharp pain, and yet I do not wake.
Because the world outside looks like something out of a story. A fairy princess type of story, where a girl is taken out of her life and brought to a magical land, or at least a land she’s never seen before. It’s like something preserved from the past, but not the past of any city I’ve visited. It’s different, and I don’t recognize it. The tower of the castle we’re in must be high because for as far as the eye can see, I see lights and cities. The bright white gates and pillars of onyx and amethyst. Roads of gold and pristine pyrite. It’s all unreal. A mist and smog of fire covers a place in the distance, and I vaguely remember myths of the underworld.
I slide my hand under the cool pillow and let my eyes blur the world outside. There’s no point in looking. I can’t get out. The door to this room is locked. I’ve tried it three times, and it never opens.
I should say—it only opens when he comes in. It’s like he’s read my mind, because the door swings open almost silently as I think of him. I hear the whoosh as he steps inside because there’s no other sound in this place.
Chills run over my skin like they did before, and yet it’s different. It’s nearly like foreplay. What has he done to me?
“My heaven,” he murmurs and then says my name clearly. “Ivy?” I pick myself up, pulling the sheet with me to cover myself and meet his eyes.
He appears in my line of sight with something in his hand.
A necklace.
I still feel naked when he looks at me, his eyes slipping from my face to the curves of my body, and I look back at him, pretending my heart isn’t racing.
With the necklace in one hand, he offers the other to me.
I resist a moment, a blush rising to my cheeks. “I’m not decent.”
Without a word he opens a cupboard and my jaw nearly drops, it’s filled with beautiful dresses. Simple and floor length, almost like nightgowns but far too luxurious. He chooses one and again without a word he helps me slip it on. It fits perfectly, hugging my waist and hanging so beautifully. The deep burgundy is beautiful against my pale skin.
“Now?” he questions and holds out his hand again.
I take it and let him help me out of the bed. No point in fighting.
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer. He just leads me across the room to a large, ornate mirror leaning on the opposite wall. The mirror is so tall that he can see all of himself in it.
I look small next to him. This beast of a man. He’s beautiful. His eyes especially. They say you can see someone’s soul in their eyes and I swear I can in his. And when I look at him, tears prick my eyes although I don’t know why.
I rip my gaze away before the feeling turns too heavy.
He positions me in front of him and places the necklace around my neck, letting the jewel at its center settle into the dip in my throat. His eyes rake over me in the mirror while his fingers work carefully at the clasp, trailing over my dress like he can see underneath it.
“This will stay on you always,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “So they know.”
“So who knows?” I wish his voice didn’t have any effect on me.
“And,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken, “I’ll always know where you are.”
“It will track me?” I question, hating the idea and feeling more like a prisoner.
“This is a large place, and I don’t want to worry.”
“I’ll be allowed outside?” I ask and he smirks, a huff of a laugh leaving him.
“A bit excited, are you?” he asks just beneath his breath before brushing my hair off my shoulder and kissing my skin in the crook of my neck. Against my conscious will, a moan slips from me and my eyes close.