Paladin30

Sophia was paralyzed by fear as the stranger led her into the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. She was terrified of the hand around her waist and the one covering her mouth and nose, and the moment the bedroom door closed she nearly fainted.

A strong smell of leather reminded her of Erik, but she couldn't imagine him abducting her and forcing her into a room.

"Monsieur," she breathed, speaking through his outstretched fingers. Her head was swimming with terror, heartbeat drumming in her ears.

Hot breaths on the side of her neck kept her conscious as the man growled for her to put her hands behind her back. She knew for certain that it wasn't Erik the moment her abductor shook her, forcing her to comply.

"Please don't hurt me," Sophia whispered, feeling her knees go weak.

No answer came and her lips began to tremble. She felt the man step away, his hand leaving her mouth for only a moment before he wrenched her right arm behind her back. She inhaled sharply, which earned her a pinch to her right forearm.

More than anything Sophia wanted to sink to her knees and cry for mercy. She couldn't find the strength to scream or run away. As much as she wanted to escape, she was too terrified to move.

"Please," she whispered through his fingers. "Please let me go."

"Shut up," the man hissed, his hand hard against her mouth, pressing her lips against her teeth.

The room was far too dark for her to see, so she closed her eyes and prayed that the hand groping from her stomach to her hips would stop. Her knees buckled when she felt his chin against her shoulder.

The man dragged Sophia toward the window and forced her head to one side, facing her away from the window as he pulled back the curtains.

Light entered the room and Sophia saw her surroundings for the first time. The sight of the closed door and the bed made her panic, sending a surge of urgency to flee at once. Her knees locked, her hands balling into fists as she prepared to fight her way out.

Sophia thrashed for only a moment before he grabbed her by the hair and knocked her off balance. With a violent jerk he forced her upright and held her firmly against his body, forcing her to feel the stiff outline in his trousers.

"Don't fight me," he said, rubbing up and down against her back.

Sophia inhaled sharply and felt a sob rising into her throat. Tears stung her eyes as she braced herself for pain, unsure of what he would do to her, but knowing it would be something terrible. She had heard enough stories of brutality to fear her fate.

He ran his hand along her face in a clumsy caress. "Do you know what that is, Mademoiselle?" he whispered, biting at her ear.

There was no stopping her senses from waning. She whispered one last time, begging for mercy before she fainted.

The next thing she knew she was in a carriage, with a dark stranger sitting across from her. Groggy and disoriented, she lifted her head from the soft velvet seat and attempted to separate her surroundings from the darkness.

"Where—where am I?" she asked, fear curling in her belly. One by one she remembered the details of the night. She remembered the hand over her mouth, the smell of leather in her nostrils, and the distinct threat hard against her lower back.

Slowly she sat up, her throat tightening as the face came into view.

"You should think twice before canceling dinner with me, Mademoiselle."

-o-

Erik raced down the stairs and crunched over the remnants of a broken wine bottle in the middle of the hall. He tore through the front door and into the night, wasting no time with his cloak, which he had draped sideways around his body. He had quickly scrambled into trousers and a shirt, as the scream he had heard had sent him flying from his bedchamber, heedless to the cold and snow.

Holding his mask in place, Erik met Citrine in front of the manor, where Gabe had joined her. Gabe had Citrine by the waist, holding her back from the coach that had disappeared down the driveway.

"What happened?" Erik questioned.

Gabe shook his head as he clutched Citrine, keeping her from sinking to her knees. He was too preoccupied with calming Citrine to look Erik in the face.

"Where is Mademoiselle Dupree?"

Citrine took a ragged breath. "There was a man…"

"Where? In my home?"

She nodded, her eyes still searching the driveway as snowflakes landed in her hair and on her face. "He came down the stairs, but I was in the cellar. When I heard footsteps I walked into the kitchen because I first thought it was you, Monsieur, but I knew it couldn't be since you tread much lighter. I thought it was Monsieur Dupree. I was so startled, though, that I dropped the wine bottle I was bringing up."

"Where is he? Where is Philippe?"

Citrine pursed her lips. She glanced back at the home Sophia and Philippe shared. "He's inside, I believe."

"Then who was in my home?"

Citrine shook her head. "I didn't see his face, but I saw the man put a woman into the carriage. I called to him, but he signaled his driver to leave. I didn't know what else to do, Monsieur, so I screamed."

"Whose carriage was it?"

Citrine looked apologetic as she clung to Gabe and cast her eyes down. "I don't know who it belonged to, Monsieur. I apologize for not making greater haste."

Erik stared down the empty driveway. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth, his thoughts wound around Sophia. He could still feel the warmth of her hand against his face despite the bitter wind hitting his face.

Her absence made him want to scream. She was supposed to be in the house still. She was supposed to be either in the parlor or talking to Citrine.

His face burned with anger. They would have been together in the parlor if he hadn't told her to comply with his rules.

She couldn't be gone, Erik thought, his eyes desperately flitting around as he searched for some trace of her. He wouldn't allow it. And if anything happened to her it would be his fault.

"What are you going to do?" Citrine asked once Erik began walking backwards toward the stable.

"It's Turro," he said as he turned on his heel. "Monsieur Monteclaire, ready my horse."

Both Citrine and Gabe followed Erik to the stable, their footsteps crunching on the hardened snow. Erik glanced back at the two and saw Fidelio limping along behind them, negotiating his way through the snow as he pursued his master.

Erik whistled and the dog stopped, his head cocked to the side and tail erect. "Take him inside," Erik said as he nodded to Citrine. "And keep him by the fire."

Citrine immediately turned and called to the dog, but he ignored her, determined to follow Erik to the stable. She grabbed him by the tail and forced him to turn, but he yelped, causing Citrine to release him.

"Monsieur," Citrine shouted.

"Go inside," Erik replied, ignoring her as he entered the stable and glanced around the unfamiliar space. Two black horses stared at him as he entered, while a smaller gray horse snorted at his intrusion. He turned his attention to the two black horses.

"Which one is the gelding?" Erik asked, glancing back at Gabe.

"Monsieur, with all due respect I don't have a horse for you," Gabe said once he caught up with Erik.

Erik glared at him. "Then find one," he hissed before he stormed out of the stable.

"Where will you be, Monsieur?" Gabe called after him.

"With Philippe Dupree," Erik answered before he disappeared into the snowy night.