Chapter 47
Elowen's POV
I knelt on the cold marble floor of Drake's apartment, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. The wolf spirit suppressant he'd forced down my throat burned through my veins like liquid fire, severing my connection to Juno and cutting the mind link I shared with Casper and Cassian. The emptiness it left behind was devastating—a void so absolute it felt like part of my soul had been ripped away.
"That's where you belong," Drake said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he circled me like a predator. "On your knees, completely at my mercy."
I could smell his excitement—sulfur and greasy arousal—making my stomach heave. Without Juno's presence, my senses were dulled, but not enough to spare me from his disgusting scent.
"Fuck you," I spat, though my voice came out weaker than intended.
Drake grabbed my chin, forcing my face up. "Watch your fucking mouth. Unless you want those twin mutts to disappear tonight."
His fingers dug painfully into my jaw. Images of Casper and Cassian flashed through my mind—Casper's warm smile, the way his amber eyes lit up when he called me "little freckle"; Cassian's intense gaze, his protective touch, the way he whispered "little one" against my skin. The thought of harm coming to them was unbearable.
"What do you want?" I asked, the words scraping my dry throat.
Drake's lips curved into a cruel smile. "First, I want a bath. And you're going to wash me."
My insides twisted violently. "You're not serious."
"Dead serious," he replied, voice turning to ice. "One phone call is all it takes for the Reid family to activate the execution clause. Your pretty boys will be dead before sunrise."
Panic squeezed my chest. "What execution clause?"
"It's exactly what it sounds like." His eyes gleamed with malicious pleasure. "Now get up and fill my tub."
I struggled to my feet, legs weak from the suppressant. The bathroom was luxurious—all marble and glass—making me hate it instantly. I turned the gold-plated faucets, watching water fill the massive tub. Steam rose, fogging the mirrors and blurring my reflection into something unrecognizable.
As I leaned over to check the temperature, my head spun wildly. Juno was reduced to the faintest whisper in my mind, her usual strength completely diminished. I loved her fierce presence, her courage—now both were barely perceptible.
Drake entered, closing the door behind him. Without hesitation, he began undressing, revealing his muscular body covered with dark hair. I'd once found him attractive—now the sight of him made bile rise in my throat.
"Like what you see?" he taunted, noticing my disgusted expression.
"I'd rather look at roadkill," I answered truthfully.
His hand struck my cheek so fast I didn't see it coming. Pain bloomed across my face, bringing involuntary tears to my eyes.
"Remember who holds all the cards here," he warned, stepping into the tub and settling into the water. "Now wash me. Every inch."
I grabbed a sponge, squeezing it so hard water dripped between my fingers. With each touch to his skin, memories of Casper and Cassian flashed through my mind—their gentle caresses, their respectful touches, how they'd look at me with desire mixed with reverence. The contrast between them and the monster before me couldn't have been starker.
Drake closed his eyes, groaning with pleasure as I washed his shoulders. "This is where you belong, Elowen. Serving me."
I said nothing, mechanically moving the sponge across his chest, imagining it was acid burning his skin. My hatred for him grew with each passing second, a tangible thing pulsing beneath my skin. If I had my wolf strength, I would tear his throat out without hesitation.
"Not enough," Drake suddenly declared, eyes snapping open. "Take off your clothes and join me."
I stepped back immediately. "You said just washing—"
"I changed my mind," he cut me off. "Strip. Now. Or shall I make that call about the twins?"
The mention of Casper and Cassian made my heart clench painfully. I'd rather endure anything than see them hurt. With trembling hands, I started unbuttoning my shirt, tears falling freely now.
"Turn around," Drake commanded. "I want to see you."
"No," I refused, keeping my back to him.
His voice turned deadly quiet. "You ungrateful bitch. Turn around! What are those marks on your neck if not evidence you're nothing but a whore? You've been mine long before they touched you!"
His words stabbed like knives. The twin's marks on my neck burned with phantom pain—those beautiful symbols of love and protection now felt like targets on my skin. I continued undressing with my back to him, every fiber of my being screaming in protest.
As I removed my bra, I felt the small silver pocketknife I'd tucked into my boot earlier press against my ankle. A precaution I'd taken when leaving to meet Drake, knowing deep down this meeting might turn dangerous. Thankfully he hadn't searched me thoroughly.
"I said TURN AROUND!" Drake roared.
I slowly turned, strategically covering myself with one arm while I bent slightly, as if adjusting my sock, quickly slipping the knife from my boot into my palm.
Drake's eyes roamed over my exposed skin, his expression a nauseating mixture of lust and triumph.
"Now get in," he ordered, patting the water beside him.
I took a step forward, then quickly straightened, pointing the blade directly at him.
"Don't fucking move," I hissed, adrenaline temporarily overriding the suppressant's effects.
Drake's expression shifted from surprise to amusement. "What are you going to do with that toy?"
"Stay back!" My voice shook but remained determined. "I swear I'll cut you if you touch me again."