Agnes shoved at Eric's chest and tried to dart past him, but he caught her wrist with unnerving speed.
She was trembling, too drained to fight back. In a heartbeat, Eric had lifted her off her feet and flung her over his shoulder, carrying her down the hall as though she weighed nothing.
"Let me go!" she gasped, pounding weakly against his back.
He didn't answer. His silence was worse than shouting.
The bedroom door slammed shut. Eric tossed her onto the mattress with brutal ease, his bloodshot eyes blazing with sleepless rage. Agnes scrambled back, her heart hammering when he began ripping open his shirt, muscles taut and trembling with fury.
"What are you doing?" she stammered, pressing herself against the headboard.
Eric's voice was flat, empty, almost inhuman. "Making sure you never forget who you belong to."
The deadpan tone made her breath catch. This wasn't the Eric she thought she could manage—this was something darker, far more dangerous.
