Chapter 20
The next few days are a bit of a blur.
It’s easier when I just don’t think or resist. When I don’t let there be that moment of wondering if I should obey or not, because the alternative now is so painful.
Not only do I not want to be put over one of their laps again, but just the mere thought of resisting, of making it feel like I have a choice, makes getting through each day tougher, when just doing what I’m told is so easy.
I get up when they come for me, eat from their hands when they feed me, go outside when one of them picks up the leash. I read in my cage while they train, listening to the blades outside, and work on my carving.
I was surprised when Mero let me have my things, the soapstone and the sharp knife. I work away at things from my memories and things I see on my walks. And all I think, if I think at all, is just another day chipped away from the hundred.
It’s only when Arrek is walking me outside that I realize I’ve urinated in front of him without feeling a shred of embarrassment.
He made me sit and lie down and roll over for him earlier in the day, and I did it all without even thinking about what I was doing, just letting my body go through the motions. When he stopped at the tree, I pulled my pants down and peed.
Now he’s looking down at me with a strange expression, one of almost annoyance, and I realize my instant obedience is leaving him missing something. Something he used to get from me, that cruel edge of making me do things that made me ashamed and turned on.
And I get this sense of deep satisfaction that I didn’t even hesitate.
I pull up the pants I chose that morning and simply continue on my way, before he can even start moving.
My only decisions, really, are which clothes to wear and whether to try a new look with the makeup.
And on the fifteenth day, even that is gone.
I walk into the dressing room and stop.
There’s a Pleasure-Dress laid out for me, a muted coral red with a long, sweeping neckline. I pick it up, letting the fabric run through my fingers, soft and soothing against my skin. Beside it is a pair of shoes with low heels.
When I turn, still holding the dress, Mero stands in the doorway. He’s wearing his formal white robes, edged with that narrow line of blue-black that marks him as an Elite. In his hand is the narrow black collar with the little silver clasp, the one I wore the night of the black dress. No bell.
“Get dressed. We are going to the capital.”
I furrow my brows, barely able to register his words.
“What do you mean?”
He steps toward me, looming.
“You were not given permission to speak.”
I clamp my mouth shut, trying not to speak again, even though I’ve already spoken out of turn. My fingers tighten on the dress.
I thought they were going without me. I thought I was going to have some time to myself while they were out.
“We will deal with your disobedience later,” he says. “This was not an invitation.”
I look down at the dress in my hands, then back up at him. I’ve been doing everything they tell me to do. I’ve been so fucking good.
But people will see me. Outside these walls, with the collar around my neck, dressed like this.
Please. Please.
I shake my head.
I don’t want anyone else to see me like this.
He steps forward, and his big hand wraps around my neck, a finger beneath my chin, lifting my face toward his. He looks down at me, and there’s this hard edge of dominance in his eyes.
“You are my property. You will walk at our side, pet.”
My eyes go wide. I told myself I’d never go to the capital. That I’d live on my own terms…
And now I’m just going to be another whore displayed at the side of a brute, leashed, collared, while everyone who looks at me thinks of me as just another dumb slut who traded herself away.
And when I think of those eyes staring at me, my pulse hammering against the hand wrapped around my throat, I whimper as the pulse of need rushes through me.
Oh no, no, I can’t want that…