Page 33 of Wallflower

Following the cobblestone path leading to the door, we pass by another patch of monkshood. If I could just reach out and grab it, I’d have some sort of protection. But my body is battered, hand and wrist sliced open. I can’t risk the exposure—the certain death I would face if enough aconite entered my system.

Two more armed guards stand post at the entrance, nodding to Maximus as he passes through. I keep close to Karson, allowing him and my near lifeless sister to enter first. I’d think her dead if I didn’t notice the faint fluttering of her lashes or her shallow breaths.

When I lift my eyes, I’m blinded. Everything is white. The walls, the ceiling, the marble floor. Brightly coloured pictures line the walls to my right, standing out like a sore thumb. Blooming floral shots, sailing on the open sea against a piercing sunset, ocean life among a coral reef. All photos capturing vibrancy and life.

To my left, the art is dark, morbid, haunting. Wilting flowers on a rainy night, a long bone protruding through the mud. It stands stark among the morose colour palate. The message captured through every emotional brush stroke.Death Prevailsthe small plaque reads as we pass, moving further into the cavernous space.

The ring leader stops in a circular room where more warring pictures hang, spread between far too many doorways.

“Karson,” Maximus finally says after letting the weight of the situation sink all the way to the tips of my toes. “Please take Miss Chelsea to the lilac room and get her settled.”

“Right away, sir.” Karson heads toward a doorway, the picture of a bumblebee perched upon a flower hanging next to it, and disappears into the darkness beyond.

I make to follow, the violent urge to protect my unconscious sister ricocheting around inside me.

A large hand clamps down on my shoulder, meaty fingers digging into the pressure point there. The sudden and jarring zap of pain drops me to my knees with a cry, and I attempt to escape the sensation. “What’s the lilac room?” I wince as the assailant’s hand keeps me down.

“That’s nothing you need to worry about right now, doll.” Maximus raises his chin to the goon towering over the both of us, “Rylan, take Miss Rose to the south wing, last room on the left.”

“Sure thing, boss.” The man abruptly shoves me to the floor, knee sinking into the base of my spine as he wrenches my right arm out from beneath me. I lose my main point of support, and fall face first into the hard tile. Pain explodes across my tongue as my teeth sink into the muscle from the force of the impact.

I buck against the weight keeping me pinned as the man struggles to secure my hands behind my back.

No. No. No.

Blood spurts from between my lips, spraying across the pristine white marble floor as I struggle, fighting even though defeat is imminent.

Metal cinches tight around my wrists, the irrational thought of freedom evaporating in the warming tropical air.

Something raw and frenzied detonates inside me. I swing my foot forward, aiming toward the perpetrator’s face. My heel connects with Rylan’s cheek, sending him toppling off me.

Scrambling on the floor, my skin drags and squeaks against the chilled tile as I rush to get my knees under me. Righting myself on my feet, my chest heaves, breaths fast and shallow. I’ve found myself in an unbalanced standoff, the odds stacked against me in the most mountainous way.

Maximus leans against a wall off to the side, an amused look painted across his face, as two of his men round the corner, curious as to what the commotion could be.

Previously, the house was silent as the dead of night, air charged like a graveyard. There’s no way that kerfuffle went unnoticed when my cry of pain broke through the stillness, echoing my anguish off the alabaster walls.

Rylan gets to his feet. The rage in his eyes is a heat-seeking missile, its sensor locked on me. With a simple raise of his hand,Maximus halts the furious man in his tracks, forcing him to heel. A snarl contorts his mouth, and I know he’d tear me to pieces with a smile on his face if given the order.

I hesitate, wanting to bolt off in the direction of Chelsea, but the attempt would be useless. I should wait for Sam. At least then he could tell me where she is, and if she’s okay, all things considered. The knowledge sinks like a lead weight in my gut.

Heaving like a wild beast, I assess my situation. Hazel eyes darting through the room, looking for the weakest link. Unfortunately, I don’t clock one, hanging my head with a sigh.

Ungraciously, I accept the fact I’m far beyond completely fucked…andoutnumbered.

Defeated.

“I wasn’t informed you were such a fighter,” Maximus taunts. Shoving himself off the wall, he crosses the room, sandals slapping against his bare feet as he circles me.

Every one of my senses fires to life as his hot breath fans across the back of my neck. He stands ominously behind me, eyes scanning my skin like a hot brand. “Richmond,” he snaps, loud and authoritative, fingertips lightly tracing the tail of my skeletal dragon.

A man steps forward, emerging from a darkened corner of the room. His stark white hair is short on the sides and longer on the top, slicked back with a few stray tendrils covering his left eye.

“Take her to the stables, break her in.”

Richmond storms toward me, swift and terrifying. A thousand objections stumble on my tongue, but my ability to form words has evaded me.

Backing away, I bump into the body behind me, ending up flush with Maximus’s chest. His cold hands clamp around my upper arms, nails digging deep enough to leave crescent-shapedblooms of blood, just as Richmond’s bony elbow collides with my jaw.