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.

I can't give

to the

But how?

close my eyes, trying to summon every scrap of knowledge I have about vampires. It's not much, just bits and pieces gleaned from movies and

none of them really agree

not super

of them mentioned how they're cold,

of winter itself.

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

against him. If I

No. That's stupid.

from that

certain I won't die

take a deep breath, ignoring the way my lungs protest the damp, musty air. Slowly, painfully, I force myself to sit up, the chains clanking with every movement. My muscles

shouldn't hurt this much. Is it the cold? Is it from

pain from laying on the stone floor for—how long has it been? A day?

as they are. But I can move. My body stretches, twists, and turns with some protest,

things get a

to, adapting everything to my shortened range of motion, focusing on stretching and using

Stay strong.

Stay focused.

just give up and laze around on

exhale is a little deeper, a little louder as my heart rate picks up.

to in this dismal place. Any small victory over my circumstances fuels

of stone against stone shatters the trance, every muscle in my body tensing. The hairs on the back of my neck

curl inward, huddling in the farthest corner as the echoing footsteps grow louder. My mind races, desperately grasping for anything I can use as a

stale air shifts, carrying a new scent that makes my nose wrinkle. An acrid

stone wall groans

It's not the vampire.

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