Chapter 159 Lisa: Enthralled (III)

My thigh burns.

It's an odd ache between desire and pain. I itch, rub, and scratch, but those two perfect, circular punctures remain in the skin, though no blood seeps out.

It took so long for the desire he'd forced into me to dissipate, leaving my body feeling more like me again. The power he has to overcome my natural revulsion is terrifying, and I spend way too much time dreaming up horrible scenarios in which I'm used as a sex slave to a vampire.

Though, he didn't seem to have much interest in the actual sex aspect, outside of… how did he say it?

Oh, yeah.

Flavoring.

The word makes me shudder. He's going to drain me of every drop of blood one day.

And no matter how long I sit here, I have no ideas on how to fight back.

What would Ava do in this situation? I can't believe she would sit here and let it happen to her. She'd fight back somehow, right?

But…

Ava isn't exactly human, either.

Maybe once, but not anymore.

Shivering in the cold, I roll carefully to my other side, using my clothing scraps as a barrier between my skin and stone.

I can't wear them. May as well lay on them.

My body aches in ways I never thought possible. The frigid temperature of the floor seeps through my bones, an insidious chill that refuses to abate no matter how tightly I curl in on myself.

Manacles chafe against my wrists and ankles. I tug at them with a weak yank every so often, knowing it's futile but unable to resist. The metal is unyielding, the chains too strong for my human strength to break.

give up.

on to hope, to the belief that

But how?

every scrap of knowledge I have about vampires. It's not much,

none of them really agree with each

that's not

they're cold,

his fingers trailing over my skin like the caress of winter itself. But after he drank from me, after he'd taken

weak in the aftermath? It makes a twisted sort of sense, a parasitic existence that feeds off the life force

if that's true, then maybe there's a way to use it against him. If I can make myself too cold to be appealing, too

No. That's stupid.

from that

not entirely certain I won't die

way my lungs protest the damp, musty air. Slowly, painfully, I force myself to sit

Is it the cold? Is it from something he did

is it just pain from laying on the stone floor for—how

with my limbs bound as they are. But I can move. My body stretches, twists, and

things get a

I'm used to, adapting everything to my shortened range of motion, focusing on stretching and using

Stay strong.

Stay focused.

back if I just give up and laze around

of my movements echoes through the dank cell. Breathe in, breathe out. Each exhale is a little deeper, a little louder as my heart rate picks up. I can feel the warmth spreading through my limbs as I stretch and contort

in this dismal place. Any small victory over my

stone shatters the trance, every muscle in my body tensing. The hairs on

My mind races, desperately grasping for anything I can use as a weapon, a means of defense this time. I will

new scent that makes my nose wrinkle. An acrid tang

stone wall groans

It's not the vampire.

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