Chapter Twenty Nine - Not His Yet - Maya's POV

I swallow hard as her words hit something deeper inside of me that I don't want to acknowledge. The thing is, I don't believe in fate. I don't believe in prophecies or soul mates or anything that steals away my control. To me, you are with who you choose and no one determines it. I remember my mother talking about her relationship with my father. She said she chose him for what he could offer her, not because of love. But over time, she grew to love him. Their relationship was rocky, and even I can see the cracks in it. If she was alive today, I would have never been sold because father would have made smarter choices. She would have never let him get this desperate or do anything stupid that would jeopardize our family. I sigh as I think about Evelyn. The way she says it makes it sound less like a demand and more like a question. It's my choice of how I approach this situation and what I make of it. It's more than he gave me and maybe it's not as bleak as my mother made it seem. 'I want to go home," I whisper. Evelyn nods, but her expression tells me that she knows that isn't going to happen. 'Get some sleep, Maya. I will make sure that this end of the hallway is quiet for you and no one will disturb you." She doesn't wait for me to respond. Instead, she steps out of the room, leaving me alone with the barely flickering embers and the cold reminder that the door to my room is gone. I don't move for a long time and mostly stare out the open door, watching others pass by. They all look through the door, but once they see me, they quickly turn away. It seems to go on for hours until, finally, the hallway light turns off. The light from my room spills out into the hallway and seems to be the only one on. My eyes find the clock on the far wall, and I realize that it is well past midnight. I should feel grateful that I'm alone and Damian wasn't hovering over me. Maybe I should be grateful that I didn't have to move tonight. It gives me a few hours to breathe. But I can't. All I can think about is the way he looked at me earlier and the way his grip on my shoulders tightened. There was raw desperation in his voice when he told me we'd die if this was rejected. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force the memory away. 'No, I don't believe this. It's only a nightmare." The problem with my words is that I actually believe them and I know I'm here for good. There is no escaping this. But it also means my life is no longer my own if I openly admit it. I press my fingers against my temples, trying to ease the headache forming there. There is too much on me. And it's like a suffocating blanket over my face. Even with the door gone, the room still feels like a prison. The open doorway Evelyn mentioned isn't freedom. It's just a reminder that I have nowhere to run to. I can't even go home. Knowing my father, he would just send me back so he can keep his precious money. I stand, needing to move and to do something other than sit here drowning in my thoughts. My feet carry me toward the broken doorway, and I linger in the threshold, peering into the dark hallway. It's quiet now and no one has bothered me besides the occasional looking through my doorway. I take a hesitant step forward, barely making it through and touching the hardwood floors on the other side. A sudden thought intrudes into my mind. What if I walked away right now? How far would I get before he'd come for me? Of course, I know I have nowhere to go, but why should I let that stop me? Their words were probably empty threats just to keep me here. I let out a frustrated sigh as I step back into the room. It doesn't matter. Running isn't an option and it may never be one. My gaze flickers back to the dying fireplace. The embers are barely glowing and casting faint shadows along the wall nearby. I should sleep and need to. My hand reaches out, barely brushing against the light switch to turn the overhead light off. I walk back to the bed and crawl in from the foot of it. As I finally get to the center, I collapse and close my eyes. Then I see him. Damian is at the forefront of my mind and haunting me even though I haven't fallen asleep yet. I hear his words from earlier about rejecting the bond. His words almost sound more like a desperate plea than just a claim. But I didn't ask for this and I sure didn't choose it. A shiver snakes down my back. 'No, I'm going to sleep." Deep down, I know my life went away the moment my father sold me to him. Eventually, the pieces of who I was will slip through my fingers, no matter how hard I try to hold on, and reality will win in the end. Taking a deep, calming breath, I try to focus on the one thing I can control. The sheets are soft beneath me, the mattress far too comfortable for the place I want to hate. Everything here is meant to make me feel like I belong with them and like I should accept his fate laid out in front of me. But I won't. They can make me feel at home all they want. It doesn't mean I will fall for it or go into this easily. If he wants me for something, then he will have to work for it. I might be trapped here, but I'm not his. Not yet.