to shi my legs, but they’re ed to the wood‐
en chair I’m si ng in. I cough, hoping to get
someone to come out of the dark shadows,
but nothing moves. Someone had taken out
my braid and my black hair hangs in stringy,
wet strands, a few falling over my face.
I flick them out of the way, my cyan
eyes finally adjus ng to the darkness. I pull
against my bindings again, but nothing comes
loose.
“I see you’re awake,” a male’s voice be‐
hind me says. I freeze, my body pulled for‐
ward, my hair falling over my chest and shoul‐
ders. My hair is pulled lightly to the back of
my head and I close my eyes as his rough
hands brush against my neck.
“Get your hands off me,” I say, my voice
low. He chuckles and steps around to me, so
that I can see his face. He reaches over to
wooden post, flipping on a light. I wince, turn‐
ing my head so that my hair falls again, hiding
my face and shielding my eyes from the light.
“Uh uh uh,” He says, moving my hair
again. I glare up at him. “I want to see those
eyes of yours. A natural jet black hair with
true cyan eyes? You’re one rare girl, Taylor.” I
wince at my name and he crouches in front of
my, taking my chin in one of his hands, study‐
ing my eyes.
“My name isn’t ‘Taylor’,” I say, bluffing.
“You know it is, Taylor, but if you insist
on it, Tor it will be.” His black eyes harden, and
he smirks so ly. “Quite amazing isn’t it? I
know your name, but you have no clue who I
am.” Or the man who a acked me, I think,
glaring at him. He smiles, le ng go of my chin
roughly and I shove my body back, trying to
get my chair to slide away from him. He
stands, slowly making a circle around me. “I’m
Xander. Don’t worry, Tor. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Safe?” I burst out, turning my head to
55
look at him, a look of shock on my face.
“You’re going to keep me safe? Do you realize
how stupid that sounds? You just kidnapped
me.” He stops at my right, turning to face me.
“For your own safety. It’s understood
that you don’t even know what you are.” I
freeze. What I am. I clamp my mouth shut,
wan ng to ask, but refusing to. “You see, Tor,”
Xander says, turning and star ng to walk be‐
hind me. A small click. I bite my lip as a cold
blade is put up to my neck. I lt my head back
slightly, closing my eyes. “I could kill you right
now and you’d never know.” The knife is
pulled away and a second later, my hands are
free. I pull them in front of me as he walks
around to cut my legs loose. “But I won’t.”
I stare at him as I slowly stand, using
the chair for help. “Oh? And why’s that, Xan‐
der?” I ask, a li le sarcasm in my voice. He
glares at me, folding the knife back up and
slipping it into the pocket of his fur lined coat.
His black eyes are outlined in gold, making the
iris look a de