Chapter Three

Willow

Still Two Years Earlier…

When I awoke an undefined amount of time later, I gazed around the room to ensure I was alone before doing anything else, noticing as I did so that I could now see the details of the room without the aid of Zeke’s remote to turn up the lights.

Sighing in relief, I sagged back into the fluffy pillows and sank down further into the velvety covers. Even so, I popped right back up just as swiftly as I realized why I had awoken in the first place. I really had to pee!

My eyes darted around the room, looking for a door that might lead to a bathroom, scrambling out of bed when I noticed two doorways on my right. I tried the one closest to me, but I was disappointed to find a walk-in closet instead of the restroom that I desperately needed at this point.

I speed walked towards the other door, praying it was the bathroom and rushing in at the first glimpse that I caught of a tub. Yes!

I took care of business and then permitted myself to look around the room now that I could concentrate on something other than my bodily functions.

During my inspection, I discerned a large walk-in shower with double waterfall faucets and a massive bathtub, which I had noticed on my mad dash to the toilet.

It looked even more impressive now that I took the time to admire it. I seriously considered stripping down and taking a nice, hot bubble bath right then. Luna knew I could use it after everything I had been through.

Be that as it may, I was still uneasy about my environment and unsure about Zeke's intentions. Leading me to only one conclusion, I needed to see if there was a way out of here, just in case. I glanced around to see if there were any windows in the bathroom as the thought flew into my mind.

Seeing none, I knew I had no choice but to go back out into the room.

I hesitated before following through with my plan, eventually electing to take a shower first due to the feeling of revulsion persisting from Zeke's hands on me prior.

Turning on the shower and ambling over to the door, I proceeded to lock it before I stripped out of the officious "nightgown" and stepped under the streaming water without further delay. The hot water gradually soothed muscles I didn’t realize were tense.

I stood under the water for several long minutes until I looked around, searching for something to wash myself with. I was pleasantly surprised to find several options. I smelled all of them, opting to stick with my favorite.

While lathering up my hair with the honey-scented shampoo, I continued to fret over what was coming all the while. As the water washed away the last remnants of soap from my hair and body, I reminded myself to stay strong and remain true to myself.

My father taught me to take care of myself. The water continued rushing over me as I stared at the tiled walls. I needed to get out, but the hot water was intoxicating.

Finally, I managed to pull myself away from my temporary escape. I wrung my hair out and wrapped it in a towel before drying the rest of my body off with another thick, cottony towel and looking around for something better to cover myself with.

No way was I putting that thing back on. I was a bigger girl, and I was not even comfortable seeing that much of my own skin on display, much less allowing some strange male to stare at me.

Not that I was fat; I had curves for days and maybe a little extra to hold on to, but my body was not something that I was overly confident in.

Noticing that there were no signs of a robe or any other real clothes, I finished drying my hair and hanging the towel that I had used back up, and then started for the bedroom, ensuring that the second towel was still wrapped tightly around my body before I did so.

On the way out the door, I paused as my eyes caught on my reflection in the huge mirror positioned by the exit.

Though I struggled with accepting my body type, I did have long, thick hair that reached past my waist which I loved. My dark hair, that so closely resembled my mother's, made me sad and tears began filling my chocolate-colored eyes, eyes that reminded me so much of my father's.

I still had not fully processed their deaths, but now was not the time. I pushed back the tears and, reluctantly, unlocked the bathroom door before making my way back into the room.

I looked around to ensure I was still alone and to look for a possible escape route. I was not surprised to find no windows. The unnatural darkness that was present before I had fallen asleep was my first clue. I gave up on that avenue of thinking for right now and strolled towards the closet to take a closer look for something to wear.

Upon first inspection, I did not see anything of use. My heart sank as I frantically continued looking around, but I felt my pulse spike a moment later as I located the bag stashed at the back of the tiny room.

I searched the contents, consisting of a couple form fitting dresses and matching pairs of skimpy underwear. This is what Zeke considered appropriate for my new lifestyle?

I was starting to get nervous about this entire situation, but I could not change the fact that I had to put something on.

These clothes were not what I would typically wear, but it was a lot better than the barely-there nightclothes that I was wearing or the towel. I guess beggars couldn’t be choosers, but I wished for my own clothes regardless.

I donned the officious garb and walked back into the bedroom, pulling my hair over my shoulder. I stopped short when I noticed Zeke sitting on the bed. How did I not hear him come in?

"Oh good, you found your clothes. Though you probably should have waited to put them on," Zeke casually informed me, his voice sounding amused.

I could feel my pulse skyrocket as I took in his words and position, lounging on my bed.

"Wh... Wh… What do you mean?"

Why did I keep stammering? His eyes burned as I felt them run over my body. I attempted to use my hair as a shield, but it was only so helpful. I glanced at Zeke and then towards the door.

There was something different about him this time. I was not sure what, but I sensed that it would not bode well for me.

He sauntered up to my cowering figure. His large hands grabbed my hips and pushed me against the wall while he leaned forward, pressing himself against me.

He caged me in against the wall, leaving me little space to breathe, and, to my horror, I felt something rigid stabbing into my lower stomach.

His weight felt suffocating against me, and I squirmed, trying to move away from him. He ignored my struggles and leaned in even closer, whispering, "I mean, that they will be on the floor shortly."

He angled his head down and began kissing my neck. I had never been in this situation before, growing up fairly sheltered. Hell, I had never even kissed a guy before, but I knew with absolute certainty that I did not want this man touching me!

I felt disgust roll down my spine as I felt him push his hardness insistently against me a few times. I tried pushing him back with what little strength I had left, gritting out, "No! I do not want that! Stop!"

Why did I still feel so weak? I should be feeling better by now.

One of Zeke's hands crept around towards my ass, while the other reached up, grabbing a handful of my breast. He pushed me harder against the wall and continued grinding against me.

Moving in closer to kiss me, Zeke soothed, "Come on baby, I will make you feel real good. I am going to take care of you." He continued groping me and grinding his erection into me as he spoke.

"No! Stop!" I shouted, turning my head and continuing to try to push him off me.

Zeke stopped then, pulling back with an incredulous look on his face, "Are you telling me no?"

His tone was shocked, as if no one had ever dared turn him down before. He continued, his voice turning nasty, "Think carefully before you answer. I am the one charged with ensuring your needs are cared for here."

His grip tightened until it was near painful, and the implicit threat was excruciatingly obvious. Either I could let him do what he wanted, or my life here would not be pleasant. I ran through my options, glancing at the door again.

Yet, once I was paying attention, I realized that I could hear other people somewhere in the house. No way they did not hear my shouts if I could hear them. That meant I was on my own. Escape was out, at least for now, not that I had anywhere else to go anyway.

I steeled myself to remain strong. No man was going to take that from me. I was saving myself for my mate. I did not care what he did to me. I resolved myself to endure until I found a better opportunity.

I somehow found the courage to look him in the eye, asserting, "I'm telling you no. You are not my mate."