Arabella

I blanked out so I wouldn’t feel.

Not his pressing weight on me, or the sharp pain I felt at my hilt. His fingernails dug into my waistline, and I lay there helplessly. I couldn’t move. I didn’t move.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared into space.

And then, just like that, it was over.

He stood, breathing heavily, his eyes raking over my body like he’d conquered something. Like this proved something. Like I was something to be claimed.

He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable now, like the fire had burned out. “You should be grateful,” he said. “I didn’t hurt you.”...