There’s also another door, different from the one I came in through. It creaks when I push it open, and I’m met with darkness. There must be bulbs in this room, too, only they aren’t working.
I think back to the books I used to study. There should be a switch. I reach my hand out, feeling the wall on both sides of the door until I find it. I flick the switch up and just like that, the lights turn on.
It’s a bathroom. It’s not very big, but there’s a porcelain toilet, a wide sink, and a standing shower. It’s clean and everything is white. There’s a full-sized mirror, but once again, I refuse to catch a glimpse of my reflection because I know how dirty I am, how dirty I mustlook,even with the clean tunic.
Turning the knob of the shower, hot water sprinkles onto my hand. I’ve never had a shower with hot water before. I can’t keep the smile from my face as I strip the tunic from my body and step under the warm liquid.
This is nice. So nice.
I make sure to drench my hair, washing the blood from my strands and gently glossing over the wound from last night’s attack. It’s tender, sore to touch, but not as big as I thought it’d be.
A bar of soap rests on a shelf an arm’s length away. I grab it and begin lathering it on, making sure every part of me is covered in frothy bubbles. And then I smell it. I don’t know why I didn’t smell it before.
Burnt wood and sage.
It smells just like Jax does.
Is this his soap? His shower? Hisroom?
But why would he have me stay in his room? Does he have another?
That wouldn’t make sense.
Does he plan to share this one? Because that is certainlynothappening.
I rinse the soap off and step out of the shower. There isn’t a towel, so I use the beige tunic to dry off.
The tunic that probably belongs to Jax.
I roll my eyes.
Leaving the bathroom, I head straight for the dresser to grab a different clean item of clothing. I pull on a dark blue garment, similar to the beige one, only this one doesn’t have sleeves.
A knock sounds at the door.
My eyes fly to the knob. It doesn’t turn.
Another knock.
“Serafina?” the same female voice from earlier calls out. “Serafina, can I come in? I will not harm you.”
I hesitate, unsure what to make of this.
Clearly, Jax ended up telling her about me, otherwise, how would she know my name? But he also forced me into this room to hide me from her.
Didn’t he?
“Serafina, I have food. And water.”
And with that, my mouth is opening before I can think it through, saying the words, “Come in!”
The door swings toward me, revealing a girl only a few years older than I am. Her auburn hair falls to her waist, tucked behind a rounded ear that sticks out just a little. Her light green eyes scan me up and down.
She smirks. “Of course, you’d be pretty.”
Pretty? I’m not sure anyone has ever out right called me pretty before. There’s usually aniffollowed by the word.
You’d be pretty if…you thickened up a bit.
