Poisoned Minds

Poisoned Minds
Emmalee
When Sasha barged into the room and had her goons grab me—again—I found that I didn't have that much fight in me and I wasn't sure why. 
Maybe it had to do with the knife pressed against my throat, right above my jugular. They haven't moved it but since we entered Fang's office area, it's been pinching my skin, the pain sharp and uncomfortable.
Romain's face is a mask of rage. His eyes aren't on me—they're on her. 
"I hope I have your attention now, Romain."
He searches her eyes furiously before grabbing her by the arms and pulling him to his chest. Something that sounds like a moan leaves her lips, and I swear I feel my core burning up like it's been fed coals. 
Him giving her this much attention makes me physically sick. It's just what the bitch wants. 
I'm so blinded by jealousy and rage that I don't even notice that the tip of the knife has been pushed into my skin until blood trickles down my neck. I feel it leaving a warm trail down my skin. 
"Hurt me and she dies," Sasha says crisply. "The choice is yours."
Romain looks my way. His eyes widen—perhaps because he sees the blood. Either way, he releases her with a grunt of disgust. 
"What do you want?" he asks, his voice strained. Though to be honest, it sounds to me like he isn't as furious as he should be. 
It's preposterous for me to think of this considering the circumstances but it's an observation I won't file away as paranoia. 
No, something's amiss. 
My woman's heart senses it on the spot. 
"You know what I want," she replies seductively, taking advantage of the situation. I grit my teeth, looking daggers at her even though it won't do a thing. 
I've never felt more useless than I do now. 
"You," she finishes. "You're all I want."
"Cut the horseshit!" Romain grits out.  "You know as well as I do that I love Emmalee, not you. I should kill you for what you've done!"
"But you won't," she retorts lazily. "We both know that. So why don't we cut to the chase and establish an agreement of some kind?"
Romain's eyes dart to me before they return to the face. He looks more haunted than ever. The veins on his neck and forehead are prominent—like it's taking all his strength for him to stay calm and in control of the situation. 
When it becomes evident that he won't ask her to elaborate, Sasha looks him dead in the eye and says, "One night. It's all I ask."
"No!" I exclaim, moving forward suddenly and causing the knife to slice my neck a little more. 
"Em!" Romain says, voice strained. He holds out a hand for me to stop, his eyes as hard as stone. When they slide to Sasha, I swear I see fire blazing in them even from where I'm standing. "If your guys hurt her again, I'm going to rip your throat out."
"You do that and she'll be dead in a heartbeat," she shoots back, challenging him. "The way I see it, you don't have a choice, Romain. It's either you fuck me or she dies."
"Sasha," Fang begins, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. "You're taking this too far."
"Stay out of this, Fang," she snaps. "I've always known what I wanted and you admired me for it. Don't stop now."
"That was when I thought you were sensible and intelligent!" he hisses. I think this is the first time I've seen him look genuinely angry, and it's not a pretty sight. "What you're doing is cruelty! You're digging your own grave. You tried to kill Emmalee. It didn't work. Perhaps he'll be willing to overlook it if you accept the rejection with no fuss. But this?"
Sasha sighs, bored. "I can take care of myself, Fang. You're not my father—you're just the man who fucks my mother."
Fang watches her silently, saying nothing else. Romain glares at her for the longest time before asking, "You want me to bed you in exchange for the rejection, is that it?"
"Correct," she purrs. "Not only that—I want a son of yours."
I inhale sharply and feel the pain of the cut on my neck acutely. I stare at Romain, hoping that he'll reject this stupid, ridiculous demand of hers. 
He can't say yes. 
He can't. 
"What makes you think I won't kill you when my wolf no longer recognizes you?" Romain asks outright, getting to the very root of her disgustingly senseless plan. 
"You won't," is her confident reply. "Not when I'll be carrying your son."
"Romain," I interject, my voice wavering. "Don't. You're not going to do this!"
"Did I mention you don't have long to decide?" Sasha cuts in. "Give me your answer now or Roger will cut her throat right here, right now. Do you want to risk losing her? Think about it. You might even kill us all afterward but it'll give me pleasure, knowing you won't get to be with her. Your choice."
The air around us is crackling—that's how tense it is. Perspiration beads on my forehead. Romain can't say yes to this barbarity. He can't. 
I gulp, the knife closer than ever. I can't even gulp without the feel of it nicking me. I watch him. A storm is raging behind those eyes I lose myself in. His eyes meet mine and in a flash, I know he's made his decision. 
"No," I croak. "Romain, you can't do this!"
"Take her away," he simply orders. 
"No," Sasha argues. "She stays right here. If you hurt me, how will my men know? I'm not a fool, Romain. I know what you're planning. Remember—we think alike. It's in our nature."
"I'm not going to fuck you while she watches!" he rages. His words cut sharper than the blade against my throat. "Forget about it!"
"Your choice," she reminds him. 
I have this sudden, insane urge to throw myself at them, not caring if I'll be stabbed to death. This scene will kill me either way—what she's suggesting is monstrous. The worst kind of cruelty. 
"Fang can leave," Sasha suggests. "Or he can stay. I don't care."
I look at Fang. Though he appears furious, I don't care about his rage. I blame him for this. His passivity is partly to blame for what's happening now. He refused to get involved and now, his cowardice has come to bite me in the ass. 
If I could turn back time, I'd storm into her territory to kill her. But my hands were tied. 
And now, here I am, forced to watch the love of my life fuck another woman because she commanded it. Because he wants to save my life. 
Fang rises, not saying a word. He slips past us, leaving his office. Romain meets my gaze. I see an apology written all over this face. I can't believe this. 
I can't breathe. 
"Em," he says. "Don't look."
I don't know if I should scream, cry, or fight against the men restraining me, ruining everything.