Chapter 73: Bared To You: Part One

**** Content Warning ****

Please be aware there are themes of emotional and physical abuse in the following chapters. Read at your own discretion.

*----------------------------------*

Esme relaxed back into the sofa, feeling well fed and slurping on the last of her smoothie. Gabriel sat next to her, one ankle crossed over his knee, his hand holding a book that appeared to be written in Latin, and his other hand rested on the back of the sofa, occasionally brushing her shoulder or playing with her hair. Esme asked while eating what the book was about and was fascinated when he explained it was on historical findings of demons. But Gabriel shrugged it off as superstition; he had read the book many times but still found it fascinating how the author wrote such bizarre descriptions. He told her the 'demons' were vampires and werewolves. 

She did take note earlier but didn't pay too much attention that on the far left of his large bedroom was his own personal collection of books; she presumed they had been read several times from her quick observation at how worn they appeared. However, it turned out to be the most expensive collection of rare books, some even created by himself on historical events. Others that were very well hidden he mentioned were actually his journals from the first century he lived on earth. 

It was genuinely fascinating, and he kept her entertained while eating, either by what he translated from his book or by the books he mentioned in his room. "I take it you're a bit of a history buff, Gabriel," Esme winked and placed her empty smoothie onto the coffee table that was probably worth the price of her new apartment Lenny rented to her. 

Gabriel closed his book, gently placing the golden leather cover on his leg. "I have lived it. So, it intrigues me to see how history is written. Some facts are lost in time; others have been altered," He said nonchalantly, then smirked after feeling Esme's awe-filled gaze.

Esme cleared her throat and stood up to circle around the love seat, and started fidgeting with her hands in front of her as she looked up at the two swords crossed on the wall, using it as a distraction from where her mind was soon going to go. To the deepest corners where her demons would claw her up in pieces. 

Esme swallowed hard as her gaze rested on the golden hilts. Both swords were designed the same; the family crest was in the middle of the cross guard, with the letter 'G' engraved in it. Either side of the crest was two figures, sword in hand raised against oncoming wolves. She glided her hand across the cross guard, feeling the smooth edges of the wolves, then looked up at the pommel and gazed at a large circular red gem that must have been a ruby. Esme looked back at Gabriel, who now stood behind her, leaning against the sofa, his hands gripping on the edges as he observed her. 

"This was your sword?" Esme asked though she already knew the answer. He nodded and glanced at the other sword. "And the other?" She saw the letter 'C' engraved in the family crest. 

"Hmm, that is a story for another time," He murmured thoughtfully, and she looked back at him, curiosity clear on her features. But she dropped it; it was apparent that he felt uncomfortable at the question. He'd already shown parts of himself by bringing her to his room that showed more of who he was than in the rest of the penthouse that was merely full of luxury items. Although she guessed the piano and library may be the only other parts that revealed who he was and possibly the office that was kept under lock.

Esme glanced at the other sword again and understood enough that the sword belonged to a family member and might no longer be with him. She reached up and started tracing the engraved markings just below the hilt; the inscription was in a language she did not understand or pinpoint what it was in. "They are beautiful and in good condition," She pointed out. 

You are reading story The Fugitive at novel35.com

"Of course, I would never let my sword go rusty or get dirty. Be careful, though. I still sharpen them," Gabriel replied as she started to feel the edges of the blade; that was when she looked down at her arm where the dressing gown sleeves had fallen away from, revealing the carved words of 'ETHAN'S' on her skin. 

Esme's stomach dropped, but she smiled at Gabriel's concern before looking back at the swords and crossing her arms as she shifted on her feet. "When I was a Hellhound, my last mission was to infiltrate the White Sands pack, not to cause any harm.. well, not yet. I needed to find out information on their plans. You see, we found out they were going to expand their territory, taking over another pack and trying to take the rogue's territory, which no one dared to do. They obviously didn't know it was territory to the Hellhounds, only that it was dangerous to enter that forest."

She tapped her fingers, recalling her attempt at fighting the pack members and refraining from killing them to get caught. 

"Anyway, I was to get as much info I could and return so we could formulate a plan. This was a pack that had no powerful position; it was a small size compared to others and one that the Hellhounds had never found any point in targeting before.." Esme trailed off and gazed at the engraved wolves on Gabriel's sword. "That was when I met him. Ethan, my mate."

Esme started recounting the first year of her relationship with Ethan, describing not in too much detail how slowly she was becoming someone else, someone pitiful, falling into a trap her mate led her to. Gabriel tried to intervene, his apparent disgust at the harsh words about herself, but one look from her halted him. She continued, telling him how obedient she was, though Ethan still found reasons to hit her or sexually assault her. 

Esme followed Ethan's words, being the 'perfect' mate for him and always making sure they looked like the perfect couple in public, especially when meeting other packs. She was silent in meetings unless the pack leaders asked for her input or suggestions in which she would agree with whatever Ethan previously suggested, even if she knew of better ways. She couldn't 'show him up'. 

"I was a marionette, and after some time, I came to realise that the pack knew what was going on behind closed doors. That was when I fell further into despair; the times I found the courage and tried to reach out for help turned out to be a useless struggle, and that's when things started to get even worse. Ethan found out," Esme continued. Her head was now resting on Gabriel's lap as she bared herself to him; even though she recalled horrible memories, she felt a weight being lifted from her shoulders. 

Esme closed her eyes and let a tear fall down her face as the images of her right arm being held in wolfsbane then burnt because of her disobedience flashed across her mind. She inhaled sharply and held onto Gabriel's hand as she lost herself to what was to come, letting the vampire into her mind if he so wanted to. The memory was not at all hazy and was as clear as day..

Esme was crying and being dragged by her hair down into the basement in which she hadn't been to the whole time she had lived in the mansion. Her right arm was throbbing and itching, pulsating in burning pain from the wolfsbane and fire Ethan put on her skin. But right now, that wasn't the issue. Her eyes widened as she came across a cage. 

"Wh-what.. Ethan.." She struggled and tried to get out of her mate's arms even if it meant him ripping her hair out, but he smacked her across the face, and she flew into the wall. Her vision blurred, and a ringing noise rung in her ears, Ethan's words muffled from the blow to her head. He put something around her neck, and she hissed in pain and was thrown into the cage; with the last ounce of strength she had left, she tried scrambling forwards, but the silver bars slammed in her face.

"Any time you even think about escaping or asking for help, I will discipline you," Ethan growled in front of the bars, his eyes glowing. "Like a dog, I will train you." 

He left her there staring in shock and went into a fetal position, keeping herself warm and as comfortable as she could in the damp, cold cage. She had a silver collar around her neck with a fricken name tag on it. This was a new low and one that seemed to have zapped out the last bit of energy she had left in asking for help.. The pack wouldn't help her, and now she was in a cage like a dog.

You can find story with these keywords: The Fugitive, Read The Fugitive, The Fugitive novel, The Fugitive book, The Fugitive story, The Fugitive full, The Fugitive Latest Chapter