Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sarah
The screams started again.
Thin, ragged pleas scraping down the hallway like metal dragged against stone. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending the sound didn’t slither under my skin the way it always did. But the fear it invoked never went away.
That was the point. They instilled compliance through fear. Most people fell into line so as to not endure whatever occurred behind closed doors.
Not me.
I refused to give up my humanity.
In this place, it was the only thing I had left.
So I held on to it with everything I had, even if it meant I’d pay in the long run.
I drew in a deep breath and focused on the walls caging me in, tuning out everything else.
Despite the horrors this room bore witness to, beauty surrounded me.
Pale silk drapes that stirred faintly when the air vents kicked on. Soft carpeted floors. A chandelier dripping crystals that scattered light across walls covered in pale gray.
It was the kind of room you’d find in a luxurious hotel.
Not a place you’d be chained in like an animal.
No. Not an animal. I was better than an animal, at least according to him.
I was a vessel.
Chosen.
Footsteps sounded beyond the door, slow and measured.
My breath caught, not out of fear, but with something worse. Anticipation coiled in my chest, sharp and confusing.
I should have wanted him dead. And I did.
But months of nothing except him — his voice, his presence, his rules — had chipped away at my hatred until I didn’t know what I felt anymore.
He was my captor. My tormentor.
But he was the only human connection I had.
And I craved human connection.
The door opened with a soft click, and I scrambled to my feet as he stepped inside.
Tall. Immaculate. Calm in a way that made my skin crawl.
His gaze slowly moved over me. Assessing. Possessive. Like I was something he built and was deciding how best to use me.
“Good morning,” he said gently.
His voice was warm. Practiced. The kind of voice that convinced people to bow down before him. And they did.
“Are you going to willingly fulfill your divine duty today?”
My chin lifted on instinct. “Never.”
He smiled. Slow. Unbothered. The kind of smile that said he already knew my answer and didn’t care. That said he liked it when I fought him. That he liked the challenge.
“We’ll see about that, Nova.”
Heat prickled my skin, along with anger. Shame. Something darker I wished I could rip out of myself.
“I told you…”
I moved toward him, even though fear pulsed behind my ribs, the chain at my ankle rattling like a warning bell.
“My name is Sarah.”
Thank you for reading The Pawn!