You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 108

His tattooed hand brushed across my cheek and gripped my hair.

"Void, please... Please."

But my pleas were ignored as he inched my face toward the surface of the water. I was so close I could feel the cold breathing against my skin.

I let out a sound that was neither word nor scream. Just raw, soul-deep terror.

Fuck.

"Did you know, Rali," his voice rasped close to my ear, "most people don't actually die from drowning. Not at first."

His fingers twisted deeper into my hair, yanking my head back just enough for me to see the glint of light flicker off the blocks of ice bobbing in the tub.

"They die from the fear," he continued. "The terror hits them before the water does. Before their lungs ever give up, their minds already do, making them forget how to breathe. The water doesn't even have to try."

Another whimper broke from my throat as he forced me closer to the surface. The mist curled up and kissed my face.

"That moment when the water claims your face, and you can't tell if you're choking or praying, that's when you realize it's not the water killing you."

His grip tightened.

"Please—"

"It's the powerlessness."

Another inch. Another shiver.

"It's the water's way of saying, 'welcome to my world.'"

His tone dipped even lower. "Now, imagine drowning in this. Water so cold it rips the scream from your throat before your lips can even part. Your lungs won't beg for air, Rali. They'll beg for death."

He tilted my face closer to the water. Tears spilled freely now, stinging my already frozen skin.

"Why don't you go ahead and have a taste of death? Part of me hopes you'll survive just so I can hear the story."

My eyes doubled in size.

No. No. No.

"You can't do this," I choked on a sob. "You can't—"

But the rest never made it out as he finally shoved my head into the water.

The pain was immediate and electric, like my nerves had been set on fire. Liquid ice invaded and burnt my skin, my ears, my scalp—everything.

I flailed instinctively, my bound hands struggling behind me, my legs kicking helplessly against the slippery tile. My knees scraped, but the agony in my chest swallowed everything else.

I was going to die. After everything, this was how pathetic I was going to end.

I thrashed harder, but his grip in my hair was unmovable. The monster just held me down, watching as I drowned.

I gurgled against the water. And just when I thought I couldn't take another second, just when I thought my heart would stop, he yanked me out.

I gasped violently, coughing and choking with water pouring from my mouth and nose. I collapsed on my butts in a pile of sobs and shivers, my hair plastered to my skin.

Ohgodohgodohgod.

"What did Grayson do?" His voice was cold, but not nearly as cold as the shivers racking through me.

His eyes were still as dead and unblinking as when he'd held me under: no remorse, no flicker of humanity.

He didn't even look like a man anymore—just some ancient pitiless god. The kind you don't pray to. The kind you pray never learns your name.

"Please," I sniffled. "You're hurting me."

Hot tears burned down my cheeks, merging with the icy water clinging to my skin. Every drop felt like a fresh shiver being nailed into my bones.

His hand slammed me forward and the world became ice. The cold clawed through my pores, flooding into my lungs even before I inhaled.

My eyes stung open, and all I could see were distorted shapes, fractured light rippling above me; the promise of air so close yet unreachable. I thrashed, my bound hands useless, my knees knocking the tub's wall in some desperate attempt to push upward.

I suddenly remembered all the times he treated me differently. All the times he worshipped my body and made me feel like I really meant something.

I remembered the mind-blowing kiss we shared that night. Remembered the times he gifted me things and even when he ate my meal when it was the grossest thing he's ever tasted.

I thought if it all and a part of me was broken he could throw all that away and do 'this' to me.

Spots bloomed in my vision, white and dizzying. My chest burned. My brain begged. My lungs convulsed, every instinct in me screaming to breathe, to suck in anything, even if it was death.

The darkness crept in, curling around the edges of my sight. My body slackened in its fight.

And just when I thought I'd let go, the world ripped open again as he yanked me out.

I dragged in a slow, agonizing breath, feeling each inhale scrape raw against the ache inside me.

I didn't even realize I was lying on my back, the dull throb in my hands drowned out by the roar in my ears.

I was certain I was already dead. How was I still clinging to life?

When clarity crept back, I found him propped against the tub, watching me with those unfeeling eyes.

He gazed down at my shattered frame, at how helpless I was, at how hard I cried, and not once did a flicker of mercy break through that cold facade.

I knew I wouldn't survive another round of this hell. If he pushed me into that water again, I'd truly die.

But I didn't want to tell him the truth. Grayson might've hurt me, but I didn't want the death of another man on me. I didn't want to hurt someone else.

The monster in the room watched me for what felt like an eternity. When he stepped forward to reach me again, the words slipped out: "He tried to rape me."