BIANCA'S POV
"Here you go, Bianca."
Logan handed me a glass of water. I was hesitant to take it, suspecting it must have been drugged.
"No, thanks," I muttered.
"Do you want to die of thirst? You look exhausted already, and you need something to restore your energy."
"I never asked for a glass of water in the first place, so please let me be."
I hit back at Logan, finally conquering the fear I had for him. The brief exchange we had made me think less of him; he wasn't actually the dreaded monster he projected.
Still, Logan wouldn't give up on me. He paced back and forth, whistling and stomping his feet on the wooden floor.
"I have an offer for you." He smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"And what could that be?" I replied.
"It's a juicy offer that will eventually lead to your freedom if you play according to the rules." Logan winked, signaling a somewhat hidden intent.
"Provided that you consent to being my mate, I will make you my sovereign." Logan's words made it clear to me what he wanted.
He was actually setting a trap. Despite the fact that he said "sovereign," I didn't completely believe he would regard me as an equal. Not after giving me the choice between being trapped in a cell and bedding him.
Another jab of pain came from my stomach. I wondered why it hurt so much. Logan attempted to introduce himself as a saint with that innocent smile of his. However, he was actually the worst kind of villain, and that was it.
I wanted to seize this opportunity, but his proposal was too good to be true.
It was certainly not going to be given away without getting something in return; he wanted more than the ordinary, something primal.
One where I would have zero command over my body, needing sex with a person I didn't love. Caught in this web, I could basically save my pride. If I went with him, I would gradually lose my mind and go crazy.
I spat at Logan's feet, telling him that I had no interest in his offer. "Never will I consent to being your mate. Don't even think of it!"
Logan's countenance changed. There was a sharp edge to his demeanor as he stared at me unkindly. One word from him, and I would die.
Holding onto the railing tightly, and feeling my heart flutter alarmingly at the unwavering look in his eyes, I stared back.
I was ready to die if necessary, yet there was a limit to how far I would go to save my life. There was just so much I could endure before even my soul would be broken. I felt sad as I was left with no valid options to choose from.
I was totally clueless, being lonely in a confined space after being captured by some good-for-nothing fellows. The worst days of my life had just begun, and I didn't know where to turn for help.
"A few more days in jail will definitely make you alter your perspective." Logan left my cell. "I will return in seven days," he echoed as he took one last look at me.
I wanted to let him know that nothing he could do would change my mind; he was the most ridiculous shifter I'd come across.
Logan left the cell. He locked the entryway once more and headed down his palace.
A piece of me wondered—perhaps Logan's offer was the most ideal option I had? There was nobody to act the hero. I was stuck here, and I might just never see the radiance of day again if Logan chose to keep me here until I adjusted my perspective as opposed to killing me.
But I continued to think about those two hunk shifters who had tried to rescue me when I was being taken hostage by Logan's henchmen—the one with a mane of wavy hair, and the other with an intricate tattoo of wolves and bears on his arm. I had this sudden feeling that I might get to see them once more.
I was so stuck on the possibility that they could save me, if they wanted to, but what were the chances that they would do so now?
I was so caught up in my thoughts, allowing myself to get stuck on a fantasy of someone acting the hero. It was smarter to think of how I could make it out of this mess, since I was the person who had chosen to come to Dartmoor Island. My decision had prompted my current predicament, so I needed to figure out a solution for myself.
Logan had given me seven days to change my mind, but I wasn't going to give in anytime soon. His offer may have been the only way out, but it really wasn't; there must be more to this.
What happens if I still don't consent to his request after seven days? The question hung in unanswered silence, lingering like cigar smoke in an unventilated room.
I couldn't surrender. Hope was the last weapon I had. I tried an unlocking spell on my prison door, then kicking it with my solid boots, but the metal door remained securely shut.
I felt stupid and wondered how I ended up in this wilderness, far away from home and closer to death than ever. I was only one mile away from the grave.
My heart was bitter, and I had no feelings of ecstasy left; all that dominated my thoughts was freedom and escape, which I wouldn't trade for anything.
The hours went by without a response coming to me about how I could leave the jail. However, if I could stay careful with an open door, I would get myself out.