3. Three

Three

Willow

The soft glide of Donald's fingers running down my face is akin to what I imagine the touch of death would feel like.

Cold, soulless, misleading.

His gentle gesture may seem like a promise of a peaceful demise, but the moment I show any sort of disobedience, it'd instantly harden, become torturous. The twinkle in his blown pupils speaks volumes, letting me know he's expecting it and can't wait.

Despite the many times he shouted at me, hit me, hurt me, for my mouth or any reaction I had to him, I always caught a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. I didn't understand it then, just like I never realized my father was feeding off my pain, and I guess it's because my mind couldn't wrap around the fact someone would get pleasure from hurting someone weaker than them. But I can see it very clearly now. They both get a lot out of hurting me.

My father tortures me for a boost that fuels his Elementra-blessed powers. Keeping him fully sustained and able to lord over everyone else.

And Donald…

Donald enjoys my fight because he's always been able to overpower me, so it's his way of showing me he'll always be able to force me to bend. It feeds the small little fragile ego within him. Taking my innocence at every opportunity, beating me bloody, locking me away, throwing me in graves. All of it was a way to make him feel superior in a world where he's on the bottom of the latter. He holds no candle to my men, any man, in Elementra, and I have a feeling he's always known that.

I sense the shift in the air instantly and know I've done a poor job of hiding my hatred. I was prepared for a backhand as soon as he pulled his fingers back, but nothing could've prepared me for him to grip my jaw softly and lower his mouth so close to mine his breath fans across my lips.

"No need to get fired up so fast, Willow. You'll have plenty of time for that fighting spirit to come out. I already informed the guys how much you like to resist, so they're looking forward to breaking you in. Are you ready to meet them?"

His laugh booms through the room as I snatch my jaw free from his grip and glare at his back as he walks toward the door. I grit my teeth so hard at the sound, my grinding is audible.

Not daring to take my eyes off him or any move he makes, I peer out my peripheral at Franklin, who's rearranging his table as well as setting up a needle with tubing and blood bags. So one thing's for sure. I'm obviously not bleeding enough, or at least fast enough for his liking.

What's not for sure is what the other three men about to be in this room plan to do while he takes care of that.

My body tenses involuntarily when male laughter drifts in from the hallway just outside the door. It's vile and makes me sick to my stomach knowing they're about to walk in here willingly, with ill intentions, and they're completely okay with doing so. Okay enough to seriously be cracking jokes right now.

"Brothers, meet your soon-to-be Primary, Willow," Donald announces giddily as he steps to the side and lets the three other men in.

Letting my eyes drift boredly across them, the first thing I notice is how all of them, including Donald, have similar features. Not enough to be related, that's obvious, yet they're basically the same man, copy and paste with a different font.

They all have large builds, equal in height, various shades of dark hair, and deep brown eyes that, in certain lighting, would look black. There's not a single thing that's mesmerizing, remarkable, or even memorable about them. That doesn't stop me from taking in every single detail, every little feature I can. The faces of the men who believe they're going to force me to be theirs will forever be branded in my mind so when I escape this hell, if they're lucky enough to survive it, I'll never forget what they look like.

Inhaling deeply to settle my nerves, my lungs fill with the scent of a shifter, and I zero in on him. He's strong, and my dragon attempts to poke her head up, but I have no clue what he is. I do know he stinks, though.

"That's right, pup. I'm your new Alpha." The brute smugly grins, seemingly pleased I pinpointed him first.

Pup?

A small smirk pulls at the corner of my mouth, and I want to snort or roll my eyes at him when I realize why he called me that, but I shove it down. Between that stupidly assumed insult and Franklin calling me a mongrel, I piece together they've been misinformed that I'm a wolf, or some sort of canine.

My lack of intimidation grates on his nerves and a small warning rumble starts to bud up from his throat. Our gazes stay locked in a battle for dominance as his growl grows louder and my body stays still, unwilling to flinch or cower. My dragon is securely locked down, despite her constant attempts to break free, and he's getting angrier by the second that I don't show any signs of submission.

"You will submit to me. One way or another," he promises crudely.

No, no, I won't.

"Let's get this moving along, boys. We'll need to get going here soon," Franklin announces, shoving the needle in the crook of my elbow without warning. The sting of the sharp point forcing its way through my vein causes a hiss to fall from my lips and I crane my neck to the side to glare at him.

He pointedly ignores me, fiddling with the blood bag and tubing until he's seemingly satisfied with it, then turns his attention back to the men in the room. Judging by the charged testosterone in the atmosphere, he's still the man in charge, above them. They're not far below him, but they still respect him immensely.

"Donald, it's up to you how you'd like to handle this. The amount of blood is nonnegotiable, but how you want to get her to the ritual site is your call."

My eyes bounce back and forth between Franklin and Donald, waiting for some explanation on what in the world he means by that. Even though I can't put my finger on it yet, I know he's using my blood for something more than feeding the creatures and this ritual site has something to do with binding me to them. Which isn't going to happen, but why would they have to take me somewhere special to attempt to do that?

"I believe I'll let Willow decide her own fate today. She can take the easy way out or the hard. Either way, we get what we want in the end. What do you say?" Donald asks me. All the men's heads turn toward me, and their disgusting desires and anticipation crawl across my skin.

I don't say anything. I stare blankly through Donald as if he and his words aren't affecting me whatsoever. I highly doubt the choices he's going to give me are ones that work in my favor, so there's no point riling him up and feeding into his bait.

"One of two things are going to happen. One, I'll take off those magical cuffs, escort you through the forest unrestrained, and you can willingly drain your magic, so we can bind you to us civilly. Or two, we stay here and test our own powers on you until you and your magic are too weak to fight back, and you'll keep the cuffs. And we bind you how we please," Donald informs me cheerily.

"What do you mean bind me?" I ask, clipped. I know how chosen Primaries are bound here in this realm. That was explained to me, but I need to understand how the Summum-Master is creating Nexuses and giving people powers.

"There's a ritual of sorts where we consummate our bond together as a group. It'll be much like our wedding night, just this time around you get four for one. Our power will weave together, strengthening us all, then our Leader will mark you as one of us."

"You didn't have power or magic in the non-magical realm," I say meekly, hoping my small voice will pull the answer from him.

"No, I didn't, but I do now." He smiles confidently, looking around at the other men. "Maybe a proper introduction to your Nexus will help you decide and stop with this line of questioning." Following his finger, he points to the shifter who's staring at me like I'm an injured gazelle and he's the hungry lion ready to pounce.

"When we heard of your trip to Terravile and the dominance you commanded, it was obvious our Nexus would need a stronger shifter to be able to break that little Alpha bitch mentality you have, so this is Max. He's what you'd recognize as a saber-toothed tiger in the nonmagical realm, but well, much, much bigger. Here, his animal is called a Dentemtigirus."

My gaze widens as I take in the shifter with a new wave of caution. The predatory gleam in his eye, the way he smoothly shifts from side to side, and the muscular, lean build make more sense. No, I still don't think he's stronger than my dragon, or at least he wouldn't be if I weren't trapped in these cuffs and she weren't locked behind my restraint, but he's most certainly stronger than any wolf in Terravile. Other than Lyker. I believe Lyker could take him, but I can understand why they'd assume he'll be able to dominate me.

"Next, we have Trex," Donald says, pointing to the man standing off in the corner by the door. He's examining my face for every little movement, and his body language screams uncomfortable, but he's obviously not that uncomfortable if he's partaking in this. "He has the ability to hear every little nasty thought that runs through your mind."

Fuck, his gift is mind transference.

Panic flares through me at the possibility he's been listening to every thought that's crossed my mind since they walked in here, but then I sense the faint knocking. Until now, I've ignored it, figured it was a headache from the number of times my skull has bounced off this table, but now it's obvious. It's been his attempt to break through my wall, and he can't.

"This fine specimen is Bryce."

The small twitch in Trex's nostrils tells me he doesn't like that I've been able to block him out and broke his eye contact before he could continue his attempt to tear me down. I want to celebrate my small victory, smile in his face, until my attention solely focuses on this Bryce guy.

All prideful thoughts flee when I lock on eyes red as fire and fangs as sharp as daggers. I force myself to calm my breathing despite the fact I want to freak out. As far as I know, the only vampires roaming around freely in Elementra are in a true Nexus, or those that comply with the feeding laws.

Bryce doesn't look like he falls into either category.

"Bryce here has worked incredibly hard to get his bloodlust under control, and our Leader was gracious enough to allow him to join our Nexus for his hard work. But you never know what may happen with the smell of blood in the air," Donald mocks, laughing at my horror-stricken face.

"And your blood smells truly divine." His smooth, deep accent flutters across the room.

His voice is one that I'm sure would have women gladly offering up their veins to him, but it makes mine shrivel up. The guys' warning about how if a vampire's able to get their fangs in you, you're at their mercy, ignites all kinds of new fears in me. He'd be the one to decide whether I receive pain or pleasure. And I don't want either from him.

Slowly, with my heart pounding in my throat and my chest heaving heavily, I turn my head to Donald, my living nightmare. I'm almost too terrified to know what kind of monster he's become. He was bad enough non-power wielding, but that ship has sailed and it's better for me to know what my enemy is capable of than not.

"And you?" I ask.

A broad smile stretches across his face, then he simply… shimmers out of existence.

Just poof, gone.

Craning my head as far around as I can, I search for any signs of him and where the hell he went. I surely would've died if he could've done this back in the nonmagical realm. I already walked around day in and day out, waiting for him to pounce on me at any second.

"Invisibility, dear Willow," Donald whispers in my ear, appearing next to me on the other side of where he just was, and an embarrassingly loud shriek falls from my lips, making everyone laugh.

My heart and mind race wildly from fear as I process all their powers and their true potential.

"So what will it be?" Donald asks expectantly.

Contemplating both choices he gave me, playing out each scenario, I don't see where either will be better than the other. Of course, option one seems the easiest, the least painful if I can use it as an opportunity to escape, but it seems almost too straightforward, which makes me worry that I won't be able to get free, and they'll be able to bind me to them. That creates a whole other level of trauma I'll have to endure. And what if they do bind me and I can't unbind myself somehow? Then I'm lost to the guys. I'll be at the mercy of the Mastery, Franklin, Donald, and this wannabe Nexus possibly forever.

Option two is physically horrendous. My mind has an amazing ability to conjure up the most gruesome and pain-inducing torture they could inflict on me while I'm strapped and cuffed to this table. I know they could beat me bad enough to weaken me, but I don't know if it'll weaken my magic or any of my power. And with these cuffs on, I can't check in on anything to see if I've been drained already.

"This would be a great time for some guidance," I murmur in my mind hopefully.

"Take the path you know better than most," CC says begrudgingly.

I close my eyes and take a moment to collect myself. I was hoping and praying for some groundbreaking knowledge or killer plan to get me out of this, but I guess freedom is still too far out of my reach.

Forcing my lids to peel open, I blink away the tears that have gathered behind them. Meeting the glares from everyone in the room, starting with Franklin, who's changing my blood bag out, to the shifter, the mind reader, the vampire, I settle on the one who deserves my hatred the most.

"Even with the stolen powers you've so wrongly been given, you'll never be enough. You're unworthy. So do your worst. It's truly all you are good for," I say venomously, and despite the tremble in my tone, his eyes widen a fraction at the malice behind my words.

A loud, humorless laugh falls from his lips, and as one, scarily synchronized, the four of them take a purposeful step toward me. As Donald slowly traces his palm across my chest, Max traces the cut from my belly button to my hip and whistles low.

"Master Franklin, you sure did a number to this side."

"Yes, well, she allowed one of those traitorous mutts to mark her, so I figured I'd remove the issue for her."

"Did she really?" Max asks low, glaring at me like a scrap of meat that was his and he's pissed I was shared with someone else. The possessiveness makes me sneer in disgust. I only like one certain shifter looking at me that way.

"Just like her whore of a mother who allowed a wolf to crawl between her legs as well."

My mother's Nexus was wolves.

"Someone within the Nexus was a wolf."

"But usually Nexuses with wolves—"

My thoughts are drowned out when the piercing pain of four knives penetrating my side engulfs all my senses. No, not knives I quickly realize as Max retracts his claws then digs them deeper into my raw and battered flesh. His massive partially shifted paw holds me down easily no matter how much I scream and attempt to buck my hip away from him.

"This is exactly where I'll mark you once we're bonded." He growls low in my ear before snatching his claws out so quickly, my blood sprays across the floor.

I was so consumed with how his paw can easily stretch the entire width of my torso, with the ability to slice me so completely he could have my insides hanging out, I forgot that Donald's hand is lying across my heart. That's until the burning begins.

"We'll all be leaving a mark on you, Willow." He chuckles as his hand fully ignites into flames.

Fuck. He got a fire element as well.

My chest swells with pain from the inside out and a silent scream gets stuck in my throat as all the air rushes from my lungs. My own fire, both element and flame from my dragon, fights relentlessly to escape and extinguish his inferno. I can't see the mark he's leaving behind, but I know it's a perfect impression of his hand, I feel the outline like a cattle brand seared to my skin for life. I've never been burned before, so I have no clue if his hand on my heart is here to stay, and that thought, that fear, sends my beast into a frenzy.

The suffering, tormented feelings and impressions being passed from her to me make more tears and sobs bubble to the surface. Her animalistic nature is overwhelmed, desperately mourning the mark of our mate and the possible permanent damage done to my body by a man that's not ours. It's driving her mad, to the point I can barely contain her. She wants out, to be free.

Please, please calm down. Everything's going to be okay.

My soft pleas are mere whispers in my mind. It's painful to use that much mental strength to direct my thoughts straight to her, and it takes every bit of concentration and coaxing to soothe her enough to where I can reinforce the cage I have built around her for now.

"Do not bite if you can't refrain from drinking. I can't have you draining her while I'm collecting her blood as well," Franklin orders gruffly, drawing my attention to the individual catching his attitude.

At the end of the table, Bryce stands there, almost transfixed on the blood pouring from my wounds as well as the tubing. The longer he stares, the more the whites around his irises merge into crimson. When his eyes snap up to mine, like he could sense I was staring holes into him, the slow smirk that stretches across his face reveals and elongates his sharp pearly fangs.

"I won't feed. Only nibble." He hums, causing my veins to thud wildly beneath my skin.

The thought that he's about to inject me with his venom and have my body betray me by withering in unwanted, undesired pleasure is going to send me over the edge. Moments ago, I was breaking, needing this to be over. Now with this predicament in front of me, I welcome the pain like a lifelong friend. I'll embrace it, become one with it.

His teeth pierce through the soft skin on my thigh easily, painlessly, and heat begins to spread throughout my body, causing my panic to rise faster, fiercer. Quick, short pants are all I can allow myself to take through the knot lodged in my throat and my eyes nearly bulge out of my head when he lifts his gaze to me and winks.

As soon as that heat reaches my core, I cry out, on the verge of begging him to please stop, but the plea never has the chance to leave my lips.

That familiar tingle swiftly shifts into a gut-wrenching cramp that has my body attempting to curl in on itself and a fever like no other sweeps through my blood. It's so hot, I swear it has my skin melting away. This is an affliction I have never felt before in my life. It's ten times the torment my first shift was, and at this moment in time, I'm sure I'm going to die from it.

The shrill that tears from the depths of my soul is so magnified, I no longer hear the chuckles coming from Donald, Max, or Franklin if he's even having a reaction. My wails bounce off the concrete walls and return to me, creating a haunting echo, a symphony of my suffering.

I don't know the time that passes as I give myself over to the sensation. There's no fight in me, no brave face, no hiding how much this hurts like I always tried to do anytime Donald or Franklin did something to me. All there is now is pain as they each brand me, stab me, bite me, burn me, bleed me dry.

I flinch, craning my neck as gentle hands grasp my cheeks and wipe away my tears. The movement is excruciating, and it doesn't take much for them to turn my face back to theirs.

"Open your eyes," Trex whispers quietly.

My mind is so foggy, delirious, it takes me a second to recognize the fact he's the only one who hasn't done anything to me. At least I haven't been cognitive enough to notice him knocking at the barrier of my mind.

It takes considerable effort to peel my soaked lids open and when his face comes into view, I don't know what to make of the mask he's wearing. Part of him seems so uninterested in what his "brothers" are doing, and the other part seems completely fascinated with me.

"Open your mind to me, and I'll make all the pain stop. I'll take it all away," he mumbles inches away from my lips.

Never.

He may not be actively participating in my torture right now, but he's still a part of this Nexus. He's been standing in his little corner, allowing this to happen to me. The whole hero amongst the villains bullshit won't work on me.

"Pretend to pass out, Willow."

CC's voice silences the rejection about to spew from me. If that's going to make them stop, sure, absolutely. It won't be too hard to pretend. The darkness has been lurking around my vision, beckoning me in, promising solace in the black abyss, but my fear of what may happen if I pass out has kept me from giving into the call.

Locking my eyes on Trex's, I open my mouth slightly like I'm going to speak before letting my lids flutter a few times, then slowly close them. With the others' hands still on me and a needle still shoved in the crook of my elbow, I battle with my body to relax, but once I do, I hear him murmur shit.

"She's out," he tells the others.

"Damn, I only bit her a few times."

"A few? There're at least twenty punctures across her legs." Max barks out a mocking laugh and I force myself not to tense, not to react.

"I'm so sorry, filia mea, but I'm also so incredibly proud of you for what you've done and what you will do. Take a moment and just listen. It's almost time."

I'm not sure what it's almost time for, but I do as they say.

Blocking the pain to the best of my ability, I lie perfectly still, and with slow, measured breaths, I listen.

"She's far stronger than you made her out to be. It took twenty bites from a vampire to knock her out."

Although I can't see them, the three newcomers have spoken enough that I can identify their voices and that one was Trex. I don't know what to make of him yet. He's different than the others, and that makes him even more of a threat.

"Well, I was unaware of how strong she'd truly grown since coming here, but she won't be an issue to the four of us once we bind her and her father's going to drain her daily," Donald replies coldly.

Daily? There's no way. Absolutely not.

"Unfortunately, Willow's always been mentally strong, but these are forces beyond her will. Once her soul is tied to the four of you, she'll have no other option. She'll be defiant, disrespectful, and combative at every turn, but her power won't work against the four of you, nor me or the Summum-Master once she is marked."

Franklin's tone is bored as I feel him tugging on the tubing, changing out my blood bag once again. My head's starting to get foggier, and I know at this point it's because of both the pain and blood loss.

I don't miss the words he said, though. It isn't what he said I catch, it's what he didn't say. My powers won't work on them, but he mentioned nothing about their powers working on me. I'll be completely at their mercy, with no way to defend myself.

I have to get out of here. I need a plan. Now.

"Calm down, don't give yourself away. Listen to their plan."

Gradually, I exhale, releasing the tension that has taken over my muscles, and I let my body go limp once more. No one's called me out, so thankfully, my brief panic went unnoticed.

"There's a vial for each of us on the table. She's going to have to have one as well before entering the forest. Despite the creatures knowing their place, the amount of blood covering her will send them into a frenzy. This is the last bag I need, then we need to leave."

"Ugh, that ghastly tonic makes you all smell and taste horrific." Bryce groans extremely close to me. His freezing breath is the smallest of warnings I get before he licks a path up my arm to my shoulder blade. "Such a pity to sully such a delicious meal."

It takes unimaginable resistance not to react in any way. Every part of me is revolting. I want to gag, sneer, and punch him in the face all at the same time.

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna allow my new pet to be torn to bits before I even get a piece of her," Max growls, followed by glass clanking together.

"You all have been given only one rule to follow. The leniency you've been granted is a gift, not a right. Take it as far as you please with her, but you will honor and obey the plans in place for her and if she dies, so do the four of you. Now, Donald, go inform Gish we're leaving in thirty minutes. We're taking half the baggage with us," Franklin commands firmly.

The hush that follows Donald's mumbled "yes, sir" as he stomps out the door is eerie. There's tension in the air and I'm not sure if it's from Franklin's harsh demand or the words he said. Hopefully, these assholes don't like being told what to do, and it has nothing to do with the plans for me. I can't imagine how awful they'd have to be to silence this whole group of men who just spent who knows how long torturing me.

That thought spurs on so many others. Mainly, how in the hell am I getting out of this?

"What do you remember about this building when you first arrived?" CC asks.

The sickly feeling of having no control over my body is the first thing to come to mind, but I block that out and think about what I saw when we first transported in.

"I remember everything I could see."

"Good. The structure you're in is heavily concealed. Only those who bear the mark can see through it. You were able to see because of your gift."

"So the haze I saw was a concealment spell. That's why they haven't come for me yet," I state. I know they're out of their minds looking for me, but they can't find me.

"Yes. In order for them to track you, the concealment must come down, but that cannot be done from inside the structure. You're going to have to bring it down from the outside."

"I'm what?" I ask, shocked.

I heard what they said, and I know what they mean, but I'm not processing it. When the memory unlocked, showing me how to see through concealments, that was that. I've never attempted to un-conceal something for someone else, let alone an entire structure.

"Remember these words.

‘Clarity is shown through my knowing eyes,

spread the knowledge to those who are blind.

Crumble the deception of the disguise,

reveal the truth for those to find.'"

Despite the uncertainty coursing through me, I rehearse the spell repeatedly in my mind until I feel like it's permanently tattooed on my brain. I feel confident in casting this spell, but I'm not so sure I'll be able to bring down a concealment of this size on my first try, and there's another nuisance in my way that's going to hinder me.

"How am I supposed to even cast a spell with these cuffs on?"

"When the time comes, you will have to break free of them."

"How?"

"I've already told you how."

"What? No, you haven't, or I would've broken free of them already."

I try to recount all the conversations we've had since I've been here, but it's all beginning to merge together. So much has happened, my body is still throbbing in pain, and I can't dissect it all this quickly.

"You'll know when you need to."

"I can't take the riddles, the half answers anymore. Please tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I beg.

"If I could tell you step by step what to do, I would. In a heartbeat. You have to plan it out yourself. Going forward, you're going to have to pave the path laid for you."

A fresh wave of tears attempts to break through my lids as I lie here sulking in confusion, frustration, agony, and desperation. I've tried concocting a plan since I gave myself over willingly, but my mind continues to run in circles. Warring with itself to sit back and endure, figure out all I can, or fight to be free and end this unjust misery I've found myself in.

I want to go home.

I want to be sitting in Gaster's cottage or office, listening to him tell Oakly and me stories as we sip our coffee and eat our pastries. I can hear him playfully scolding us for whatever crude thing just came out one of our mouths.

I crave Corentin's control right now. He'd have a plan in place and would know exactly what to do. It may not make sense, but by giving him my control, I've never felt more in control in my life. I need Tillman's protectiveness and eavesdropping so he can pull me from my drowning thoughts. He'd be my strength to pull the rest of the way through this.

Caspian's shadows would wrap around me tightly, and his darkness would kill my demons. Both mental and physical. He'd make sure everyone fears us, not the other way around. Draken and his dragon would soothe away my worries with a comforting purr as he held me close. I'd melt into his warmth, and he'd set me free.

"Tell me about Tillman."

"Huh?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"I'd like to hear about him. What are his abilities? Mind transference, right?"

"Yeah. How did you—"

"Talk about him. Tell me about his abilities."

Blowing out a subtle mental breath, I let go of the burning desire to ask why or what for. I give my mind over to the thought of my man. My gentle, formidable giant.

"Well, like you just said, his gift is mind transference. He can hear and see your thoughts, memories. After we power shared, he learned to send little snippets to our Nexus, when he touches us. Once we…" I trail off, instantly getting weirded out by bringing up our bonding to them.

"It's okay. I know you've bonded. I don't need details, filia mea."

Thank fuck for that.

"His abilities grew to being able to command others. We're not sure about the reach yet because he only tried it on us so far. He's incredibly strong. One of the strongest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, loving," I whisper mournfully. Fuck, I miss him so much. I miss them all.

"Very impressive. He sounds like a remarkable young man, Willow."

"He is. He really is."

"This may be difficult to do, I know, but I want you to only think about Tillman. Put the others out of your mind, just for now. Any thought you can conjure up about him, I want you to."

The impulse to ask why is strong, but I don't. Instead, I end the war raging in my mind. It's a pointless argument to continue having with myself. I have no other choice now but to endure. My little trip to Tortureville is because there are things I have to learn, and the only way to do that for now is listen. I'll ask my questions later.

It's not Tillman who comes to me first. The faces of Corentin, Caspian, and Draken fill my mind's eye, and for a small moment, I bask in the thought of them. Sending each of them a silent I love you, I force them to the back of my mind and bring Tillman to the forefront.

His bond, his gift, his protective personality, his hard-ass training routines, the deep timbre of his rare, whimsical laugh, the sculpted perfection of his body. Anything I can summon up, I do. I lock my eyes on those emerald jewels of his, just like the first time I ever saw him. Mahogany and sandalwood engulf my senses, and I picture the feeling of his vines crawling across my skin as I run my hands through those long chestnut curls. I allow him to consume my entire being.

"Very good, Willow. Now hold onto him."

A small whimper leaves me when the needle in my arm is suddenly pulled out and a dribble of blood slides from the site. I keep my eyes closed and body still other than that slip of sound, hoping they'll all believe that was an involuntary reaction coming from me.

"Time to wake up," Trex whispers gently against my cheek, and a light stream of water caresses my lips.

Without opening my eyes, I rub them together, letting the cool liquid hydrate their dry and cracked surface. I'm not willing to open my mouth just in case that's not water he's rubbing across them. The last thing I want is to have another immobilizing vial poured down my throat.

"Come on, wake up for me, we're leaving in a few minutes." Again, his tone is soft, and I don't believe it. I won't be led into some misguided sense of trust, when I know none of the men here are trustworthy.

A shadow blocks out the bright glare that's making it impossible to open my eyes fully, but when I finally can, I come face to face with Trex.

"We're getting ready to leave, so I need to get you up. Do you think you can stand on your own?"

I shake my head because I have no clue if I can get myself up. I don't know how long I've been lying here, and I'm sliced, burned, and marked to hell and back.

With a nod, he begins to unlock the straps down by my ankles, and as soon as they're free, I circle them a few times, allowing them to get some circulation going. When he reaches the straps on my arms and the cuffs on my wrists, he pauses.

"If I take these off you, and you try even the slightest thing, Bryce will nip that in a split second."

Nodding my agreement, I don't need him to spell it out for me. I got the warning loud and clear, and by the hum I hear from somewhere in the room, Bryce is completely on board with doing that.

The second the cuffs are removed, a weight lifts off my chest, but a slight panic replaces that instantly when my gifts, elements, magic, and dragon all react sluggishly. They don't feel drained. I know if I forced them out, they'd come, but they feel worn down, exhausted, just like I do.

Trex's arms slide behind my head and legs as he lifts me up and places me sitting up on the edge of the table. I assume he did this to give me a second to get feeling back everywhere, but the sudden movement and position change has my head swimming and I sway harshly as nausea takes hold.

"Drink," he orders, holding a glass in front of my face.

It doesn't seem to be anything other than water by its translucent appearance, but I can't be too sure. Bringing the cup to my nose, I give it a good sniff to see if there's a minor fragrance to it like most tonics carry.

"That's such an animal thing to do. It's water. Water from my element, to be exact," Trex says with a scrunch in his nose as he holds his hand out and lets a stream of water flow from his fingers to top the cup off.

I'm still not completely convinced, but I relent and bring the drink to my mouth. The first drop is so cold and refreshing, soothing the ache in my throat, I begin chugging it. I have at least half the glass down before it's taken from me.

"That's enough. You're going to be sick. Come on, off the table you go," he instructs, holding his arm out for me to grasp onto.

The urge to shove his hand away is strong. I don't want to touch him, nor do I want him touching me, but more so, I don't want to fall face first off this table and onto the concrete floor again.

As soon as my feet touch down, I lock my hand around his tighter because I'm going down and fast. The pins and needles that shoot straight through my toes to my knees have my legs wobbling like jello, and they give out beneath me as I cry out.

"Whoa, whoa. I got you," Trex says as he wraps his arms around my waist and hoists me up.

Our close proximity has me on the verge of flipping the fuck out. I'm practically naked, and his hands press in on my bare lower back.

Nope, nope, nope. I want him the hell off me now.

"I'm about to pee myself," I announce as it's the first thing to come to mind. Saying it out loud seems to give my body permission, though, and now I really am struggling to clench my muscles to hold my bladder back.

"Hold it," Max growls from a few feet away, and I shake my head, leaning my head up to Trex with pleading eyes.

"I really can't anymore. I haven't used the bathroom since I was brought in. I'm about to pee on myself and you." I'd laugh at the disgust on Trex's face if anything about this whole situation were remotely funny.

"I'll take her quickly. Get the rest of what we need and meet us at the entry."

Releasing me a little, he grabs onto my elbow and gives me a moment to get my balance, but my first shaky step prompts him to wrap his arm around me and pull me to his side. I grit my teeth at the intrusive feeling of having his body plastered to mine and suck it up as we make our way into the empty hall.

I remember my walk to this room and from the way we came, there are no other rooms but the one I was first locked in, so when he steers me in the opposite direction, I don't know what to expect, but I take in everything I can even though it's nothing but plain stone walls.

"I'm not buying into this whole docile, compliant routine you're putting on right now. Master Franklin and Donald have been very vocal about what to expect from you. So don't think for a second you're about to pull a fast one on me," he says as we slowly, and I do mean slowly, like a snail's pace, continue down the never-ending stretch of nothing.

"Well, I don't buy this bullshit good guy routine you have going on. Maybe you should consider why I act the way I do with those pieces of shits," I snark back faster than I can process a tamer reply or even better, no reply at all.

My body tenses, bracing for whatever he's about to do. After a dreadful few seconds and nothing happens, other than we quit walking, I dare a glance up at him. He's wearing that same fascinated expression on his face again, so instead of waiting for him to say anything, I start walking in the direction we were going.

"It's not a routine. I don't see any point in torturing you when we have no other choice in this matter. My fate's been decided. Your fate's been decided. Slicing you up, burning, and biting you does nothing for me. It's your mind I want, so until we get that block that's been placed there down, I have no reason to be hostile toward you," he admits.

So if I didn't have my block so secure, he'd meddle with my mind.

Good to know.

Stopping us, I lean against the wall and take a breath. It's taking far more energy out of me to make it down this hall than I expected and talking while walking is causing me to be short of breath. When he arches a brow at me, all I can do is hum in response.

"If you want to be able to walk on your own again one day, you can't make dumbass decisions like you did today. You should've agreed to go to the forest willingly. They're going to make this a daily habit if you fight at every turn," he says, crossing his arms and staring down at me.

"You…say they as if this isn't your Nexus. You may have not physically participated in what's been done to me, but…you're no less guilty." I pant pathetically.

Pull it together, Willow. You'll never escape like this.

Pushing off the wall, Trex immediately grasps back onto my upper arm and starts steering us down the hall again. I wait tensely, impatiently for him to say something, do something, react in any way, but he doesn't. He just walks us in unsettling silence.

The last corner approaches, and I pray there are only a few more steps. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and his small conversation was enough to distract me from the fact my bladder is about to explode. I'm no closer to forming a plan to get out of here, and every single piece of me hurts. Those things are all I can think about now. It's dizzying.

When we round the corner, all there is, is a small nook and one door. The sight has my muscles loosening slightly and an unwanted tear sliding down my cheek. I'm relieved but also petrified. I'll have a moment alone to get my thoughts straight, but also, it means I'm running out of time. This is my only shot.

Walking through the door, a row of showers comes into view, and longing for my oasis beats at my chest, so I tear my eyes from them and search the room for a toilet. There isn't one in here, but Trex continues to lead me toward another door I hadn't noticed until now. When he pushes it wide, propping it open with his back and motioning me in, I halt.

"You can't watch me go to the bathroom."

"I can and I am. Now go. We don't have much time," he says seriously.

This cannot be happening.

"When's the next time I'll have a moment alone?" I ask softly, turning my large, teary eyes up to him. Yeah, it's a little bit of the docile routine he called me out for, but there's some true desperation mixed in with my tone.

"Never."

"Then may I please use the restroom alone? I'm not going to try anything. I just need a minute. Please."

He studies my face for a long moment, trying his hardest to beat on the wall around my mind. I'm sure it's driving him mad not being able to break in and see my true intentions, but my wall doesn't so much as quiver.

"You have five minutes," he declares, and I slump in relief as he steps out of the way for me to walk past him. "And just so you know, you're wrong about them being my Nexus. I was the only one with true brothers and they were taken from me. So maybe you should consider why I act the way I do before grouping me in with all of them."

He doesn't look at me as he slams the door in my face, and I stand there, staring. I won't lie and say I have empathy or sympathy for anyone who's in the Mastery, but that's because the overwhelming majority made the decision on their own to join. Those who didn't are far and few between. I've only come across one: Layton.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I finally give my bladder the relieve it's screaming for, then mindlessly stand in the middle of the bathroom. There're no sinks to wash my hands, no mirrors to look at myself, no seat to sit on other than the toilet, nothing. So I lean my back to the wall and slowly slide down. I maybe have three minutes left to get my shit together and I'm drawing blanks.

Come on, Willow, think, think, think.

What do you have to do?

Break the concealment. The cuffs are already gone.

Okay, so step one, break the concealment when we get outside. Then what?

I run through multiple different scenarios of what could happen when and if I'm able to do that. I could break it, then transport myself to the mansion, but if I'm drained, if the spell takes too much out of me, and I can't transport out, I've just shown them my hand, they take me, and bind me anyway, then I'm screwed.

Come on. Please.

"Talk to Tillman."

"What?"

"Talk to him, Willow."

A sob falls from my chest because the urgency in CC's voice scares me, and it means I'm running out of time, but also because I know what they're telling me to do. The switch flips in my head like a light in a room cutting on and it becomes clear why they made me think so intently about him.

Releasing a deep breath, I clear my mind once again and only think of Tillman, everything from earlier, plus I dig deeper. I dig to the depths of my bond where his is so tethered to me, we couldn't survive without one another.

Pulling on it, I focus on the wall around his mind.

Tears flow freely down my face when I feel it. I feel its resistance. I feel him trying to push me out because he doesn't know it's me. He won't be able to tell until I force my way through. So I push hard, begging, pleading, praying he gives in.

"Tillman, it's me. I'm here. Please let me in."

He continues to resist, and I continue to cry silently.

"One minute, Willow," Trex yells through the door, and I cover my mouth to muffle the sounds of my sobs.

I can't break through. He's fortified his mind so tightly with what's going on, it'll take an army to get through to him right now. So for the first time I can recall in my entire life, I give up.

I quit my pounding and pushing against his fortress, and instead, I give in to my grief. I picture myself lying on his chest, running my hand over his heart, just like the first night he ever held me.

I love you so much, Tillman. I love you all, and I always will.