The Thrall (Seven Sins MC 3)

I had no idea what was happening, only that I was somehow on a motorcycle at a breakneck pace.

A breakneck pace leading away from the club.

Away from Davor.

Away from the rest of the vampires, and the one who'd enthralled me in the first place.

If I thought I was in pain now—and I was, both physically and emotionally—well then, it wouldn't be long until I would see just how bad the pain could get.

I had to go back.

Only, I had no way to relay that to this stranger in front of me.

My hands grabbed at the lapels of his leather jacket, yanking as I started to feel the pull. It wasn't as strong as I'd expected. But, then again, maybe the vampires were following, closing the distance, making it so the pain was delayed.

We moved off the highway and onto some country road when the connection finally snapped, and the pain exploded through my system.

The scream bubbled up and burst outward, making my kidnapper jerk hard.

But he didn't slow down.

Not even when the screams became loud and unending as the blinding pain engulfed me, made it impossible to think beyond.

The only way I could describe it was something like being flayed alive, like having your skin ripped off from every inch of your body all at once. Only, there was no blissful end afterward, just more and more ripping.

At some point, the bike stopped and I was somehow moving as a hand clamped over my mouth.

"Fucking hell," a man's voice hissed as he started walking.

I wasn't sure how he managed to hold onto me with one arm and keep another over my mouth while my entire body jerked and writhed. But I stayed there in his arms as he walked through something that smelled like woods, then down some stairs somewhere.

It was only then that I was lowered down onto cold, damn ground. Actual ground, not concrete.

If I was right in my mind, that would have seemed strange to me, but I was so consumed with the pain ricocheting off every nerve ending that any real thoughts refused to take root and bloom.

"The fuck," the man grumbled as I screamed into his palm. "You've got to fucking calm down," he demanded. "Fuck," he grumbled again. "Fucking humans," he added with what sounded like distaste. "So weak," he added. "You're going to go insane," he informed me. "Humans go insane from shit like this."

I wasn't sure he completely understood what was happening. Maybe he thought the pain was from the paddling and the kidnapping. Maybe he thought I was just being dramatic.

I had to find a way to explain.

But words felt so fleeting, so hard to find and push out.

My hand grabbed his wrist, pulling it. It was unmove-able. Whatever the man was, he wasn't human. But he seemed to take the cue to pull back slightly.

"Hurts," I cried.

"Seeing that," he agreed. "It might have been a brutal paddling, pet, but this is fucking crazy," he told me.

"The... thrall," I choked out before another scream bubbled up, burst out, making his hand cover my mouth again.

"Shit. Right. They put that mojo on you," he said, clicking his tongue. "Guess it makes it so you can't leave 'em," he added, thinking out loud. "How long does it last?" he asked, pulling his hand back slightly.

"D...d...die," I cried out.

"Shit, well, yeah, that's a deterrent," he said, moving away, ignoring my screams as he paced. "What if I give you something?" he asked, though I was pretty sure he wasn't actually talking to me since all I could do was writhe and cry. "If I could cut the pain, so you don't go crazy from it, maybe the spell will snap eventually. Seems worth a shot, yeah?" he asked, moving back over by me as my hands went up into my hair, yanking.

"Okay, we can't have you hurting your fucking self," he grumbled. Actual sympathy didn't seem like a trait of his, but he clearly cared in some way or another about me not ripping all my hair out, because the next thing I knew, there were tearing sounds, like clothes being ripped, and material slipped around my wrists, binding them. "That should help. I have to go," he told me, stroking some of my sweaty hair behind my ear. "But I'll bring something back to help," he added.

And then he was gone.

No real words of comfort, but a promise to make it better.

Which was good.

Because the only better I was seeing right then was something solid to slam my head against to end me.

There was no logic to intolerable pain.

Your body wasn't built to endure it.

Pain like this was supposed to come for only a split second before death.

Blood filled my mouth, making me realize I'd hurt my throat like the last time. Gurgling noises mixed with the attempted screams, making me choke and spit as I tried to force my legs to fold up under me, giving me some stability as I moved closer to what seemed like earth-packed walls. Hard. They were hard. That was all that mattered. That was all I needed.