Elsa
Adam had come to terms with what would happen when I was with Lucas. He had accepted, as much as he could, that Lucas would touch me, would try to claim me in ways that made my skin crawl. But while Adam had conditioned himself to handle the thought, I hadn’t. I couldn’t.
The idea of Lucas touching me made me feel sick to my core—it was revolting. I hated it. Claire hated it. Every fibre of my being rebelled against the thought. I knew I had to play the part, had to pretend for the sake of our plan, but I was determined to hold out on him for as long as I could.
As long as it didn’t put anyone’s life at risk, I would resist him with every ounce of strength I had. I would wait, cling to the hope that Adam would come for me before Lucas ever truly had me. I had to hold on to that ho
