Drawn to the Sea

Chapter 20: More Coming

Douglass

My brow split open as my face slammed against the floor. Max stood over me, letting his wings spread. "Do you know why I have to punish you?"

I pushed myself up, holding my side, where he'd hit me hard. "Because I left."

"That's right." He crouched, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. "Because you left me. Twice. And do you understand why that was wrong?"

"Because you own me. You control me."

He grinned. "Exactly."

He let go of my chin, standing up again and strolling over to his big chair--the only piece of furniture in the room. I stayed sitting on the floor, ignoring how slick the surface of it was. And what was making it slick; my blood.

"Oh, don't look so sad, lover. I only punish you when you do something wrong. You won't do anything wrong anymore, now will you?"

I shook my head. "No."

"No what?"

I looked him in the eyes. "No, master."

"There we go." He leaned back in his chair. "Now that you've received your punishment, you need to change. I've already taken your knife and broken your wand, but those clothes won't do. Do you remember where your chambers are?"

"Yes, master."

"Good. I've kept it up for you. One of my servants will escort you to your chambers so you can get cleaned up and changed. I've set out a new set of clothes for you."

He waved for one of the demons standing along the wall to move forward. I stood up, and the demon led me out of the door, then up the stairs and down a long hall. The demon stopped at the familiar door of my chambers.

He pushed me through the door, then closed it, locking me in. There was so doorknob inside the room, and the only window in the small bedroom had thick iron bars. There was a dresser on one wall, and a queen size bed across from it. Beside the bed was an opening that led to the washroom, which didn't have a door.

I walked past the bed, not daring to look at the clothes laid out on the covers, straight into the washroom. There was a tub, a shower, and a toilet on one wall, and a counter and sink on the other. I stripped out of my clothes, then stepped into the shower. I turned it on, not even wincing at the freezing water that started pouring out of the showerhead.

After I'd washed the blood off my boy and washed my hair, I stepped back out and walked across the tile to the sink. I leaned against it, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I had a black eye, swollen lip, and the cut on my brow was worse than I thought. My scales were dull, the fire that had graced them before having been snuffed out, and my scars met my eyes with a vengeance.  With all that and the bruises blooming on the other parts of my body, I looked like I should've.

I deserved it. I'd dragged Nate into this. I'd put him in danger, and I hated myself for it. He could've gotten hurt. He did get hurt, physically and emotionally. I'd let him think we would work, even when I knew, deep down, that it was too good to be true. And it had all blown up in my face.

Anger boiled up in my gut and I wanted to scream, but I shoved it back down so hard I choked on it. Max didn't like it when I made a noise. He didn't like it when I expressed anger. Any emotion but numbness wasn't an option for me. Not anymore. And still, it was only the beginning. I had so much more coming for me, and I knew I couldn't outrun it anymore.

Maybe it was about damn time I was punished. Maybe Max had the right idea for beating me.

I moved away from the mirror, not being able to bear my reflection any longer. Instead, I walked over to the bed and looked at what Max had laid out for me. I huffed a humorless laugh, finding the situation so horrible that I couldn't hold it back. Of course, he was making me wear the same thing that he used to.

I shook my head, fighting back the stinging in my eyes, and picked up the first piece of clothing.

*****

Nathaniel

I struggled against my uncle's arms, hating being anywhere near him. "Let go of me you fucking asshole!"

He tightened his arms. "Nathaniel. Calm down."

That only made me madder. Who was he to tell me to calm down? He was the reason Douglass was most likely terrified out of his mind and being hurt.

I snarled, grabbing his wrists as best I could with my limited movement and squeezing. I heard something crack, and my uncle gasped. I took his momentary distraction and used it to my advantage. I slammed my head back, hitting his nose, then hauled his body over my shoulder and sent him crashing into the floor of his office. He grunted, and the people standing outside of his door came running in.

It was Gilly and one of the wolves from the center. "Alpha!"

He scrambled back as I took a step towards him. "Restrain him!"

I felt two pairs of hands grab me, and the man kicked my knees to make me fall. "Get off!"

My uncle stood up, wiping the blood from under his nose. "Calm down."

"Don't you fucking dare tell me to calm down," I growled in a voice that wasn't quite mine. I felt my eyes swim with gold and my nails grew into claws. I was sure that if I ran my tongue over my canines, they would be sharp.

He looked at me in surprise, then covered it with a neutral expression. "Take him to his room. We'll speak when you're being rational. And while you're in there, clean yourself up. You look a wreck."

I growled lowly, yanking against the two strong adults holding me. I was sure I could get out, I just needed to be a little stronger--

Gilly hit the back of my head, and my vision swam. She and the other wolf half-dragged me to a room on the floor above the office, laying me on the bed and hurrying out of the door. I heard the lock click, and one of the two stayed posted at my door while the other, who I assumed was Gilly, walked away.

When my head finally stopped ringing, I sat up slowly. I was the room that I'd lived in before I moved out, so at least I knew where I was--my uncle's estate. There was his house, then the rest of the land he owned had houses for who I now knew was the rest of the pack.

I stood up, starting to pace. I needed to figure out how the hell to get out of the house and back to Douglass. But first, my uncle was right.

I looked down at my shirt, frowning at the blood and grime caked onto it. I wouldn't be able to do anything until I was clean. If I got out of the house, I would look like I'd been hit by a truck if I didn't shower, and that wouldn't help me.

I walked over to my bathroom, stripping and taking a quick shower. Once I was thoroughly clean, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I leaned against the counter, staring at my reflection. I had bruises on my face and chest, and some small cuts here and there. And my eyes were a brilliant shade of gold. I guess the spell holding my wolf back didn't do it fully. Besides that, I looked like I normally would.

Still, I hated that Douglass probably looked a lot worse than I did right about then. I was angry and sad and scared and I wanted to sock my uncle in the jaw. But I didn't have access to him, so I did the next best thing.

I hauled my arm back and swung. My fist slammed into the mirror, and my knuckles split painfully. The mirror shattered, pieces of it falling off the wall and onto the counter. I pulled my arm back, realizing I hadn't just broken the mirror, my fist had gone through the sheetrock, leaving a hole.

The fact that my uncle would have to pay for the repairs gave me a little bit of satisfaction. The fact that I still didn't have a plan made that satisfaction short-lived.

First, he'd taken my parents. Then he tried to kill me. When that didn't work, he took my wolf and lied to me for the entirety of my life. Then, when I was finally figuring out how much of a bitch he was, he took Douglass. He gave Douglass back to his abuser and took me somewhere that I couldn't help him.

As I stared at the glass, a revelation struck me. I clenched my fists, ignoring the blood dropping off my right one, and grinned.

If he thought I was just going to sit back and let him ruin everything, he had another thing coming.