Closing my eyes, I thought back to last night. Master had arrived and injected my arm. I pushed through the light fog the drug brought with it to remember what he had done. Master had been rough.
Master had many sides to his personality. And last night saw him at his most wicked. From the moment he had arrived, I remembered seeing his hard eyes. He walked to me, shedding his clothes. He’d grabbed my arm and bruised my lips as he crashed his mouth to mine. But this kiss wasn’t gentle, nor was it softly petting as he sometimes gave me. No, this kiss was vicious and cruel. As was the rest of our night together.
The tears from my eyes ran over my cheeks as I thought back to him tying me to the posts until I couldn’t move. I remembered him placing himself between my thighs and slamming inside me, over and over, with brutal thrusts. His hands had nipped and dug into my skin, but the drug made me crave him more. And Master gave it to me. Gave me his seed over and over, hard and harder until he made me bleed. Until I couldn’t take any more.
He was punishing me.
Punishing me for what? I didn’t know.
Then he left. Different from all our other nights together, he hadn’t forced me into his arms so he could fall asleep with his cheek upon my breast. Instead he had left me tied up to the bed, in pain, unclean.
He’d left without so much as a backward glance.
Fear held me captive as I thought of the previous High Mona. I wondered what she had done to deserve her death. I was terrified that I had done something similar. Though what? I had no idea.
I shifted on the mattress, trying to find some relief from the pain, when the door to my room opened. My eyes darted to whoever was there. I prayed it wasn’t Master or, worse, a guard to take me away.
My heart beat fast, then strong relief surged through me when I saw my chiri enter. When she shut the door, her eyes searched the room for me. When she saw me on the bed, restrained, her dark eyes flared. Then I could see shock and sympathy in her stare.
The chiri rushed to where I lay, and her hands hovered over the ropes. “Miss,” she whispered when she saw the blood and welts.
Her head moved as she scanned the room. She ran into the washroom, then returned with a short sharp blade. In silence, the chiri began to cut my ties.
I tried to hold back the cries of pain, but even the slightest movement of the rope at my wrists and ankles caused a searing blast of pain to rip through my body.
“Sorry, miss,” the chiri said, as she tried to quickly and efficiently remove my restraints.
One by one, the ropes fell away. As they did, my numb limbs fell lifelessly to the mattress. When all were removed, the chiri began massaging my arms and legs, bringing the blood back to my muscles. I stifled a cry as they filled with what felt like an onslaught of needles.
“It will help eventually, miss,” the chiri soothed. I nodded, telling her I understood. For several minutes, I let her massage my limbs until, though weakened, they returned to something near normal.
When the chiri withdrew her hands, she slid from the bed and crossed the room to fill the large sunken tub on the other side of the chamber. Unmoving, I watched her go about her work. I watched her long, ill-fitting gray dress hang loosely on her starved frame. I stared at her scar.
“I’ll get you out of here.” I started as the echo of a voice spoke into my ear. Wanting to hear more, I shut my eyes and tried to recall the voice. The scar, I thought. The scar had made the voice speak? Thinking of the chiri’s scar, I prayed the voice would return.
“I promise. I won’t stop until I find a way from this hell.” My heart raced as the voice returned, this time with greater clarity and strength.
I stared at the male hovering over me. I lay in a corner of a dark cell, and I smiled. “I know you will. I trust you. I believe in you.”
My weak, shaking hand lifted to stroke the male’s face, and he sucked in a deep breath. His bright blue eyes closed at my touch. My stomach rolled when a single tear fell from the corner of his eye.
“Don’t cry,” I murmured, chasing the tear away with the pad of my thumb. “I will wait. However long it takes, I will wait.”
The scarred man opened his eyes. Gathering me in his arms, he held me close. My body was tired and I could barely move. But I felt safe in his arms. “How long until they inject me again?” I asked.
“Soon,” he replied, and his huge body tensed.
“It’s okay,” I soothed. “One day, I’ll wake and I’ll be free. You will have freed me.”
“I promise,” he rasped. “You have my word. You’re my blood. I’ll never stop trying.”
“Miss?” a distant voice whispered. Something touched my arm. “Miss?” the voice spoke again. I fluttered my eyes open, the memory spiraling into a black void.
I turned my head to the voice, but my vision was blurred. Gentle fingers wiped away the tears. “Miss? Are you okay?”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. The vision had been so real. The care of the scarred man, a male who should have scared me, brought me the first sense of peace since I’d awoken in my gilded cage.
“Yes,” I replied. The chiri sat silently, awaiting my response. I lifted my hand to my head, breathing through the ache in my arm. “My mind keeps showing me things.” I frowned. “I’m never sure if they are real memories or illusions.”
The chiri nodded, then took hold of my hand. “Miss, you must bathe.” Her eyes dropped to my body, specifically my thighs, which were covered in a mixture of my blood and Master’s release.
Forcing my legs to move, I slid them over the side of the mattress and held on to the chiri to help me stand. As I swayed on my feet, I leaned against her and used her to walk to the tub. I groaned as I stepped into the hot water; the marks from the ropes burned.