The sheets beneath me are black silk.
Smell like him and the mirror across the room reflects a version of myself I’ve never seen before.
Not the survivor.
Not the victim.
Not even the whore.
No.
His.
I sit up.
It hurts. Everything hurts.
My thighs. My wrists. My throat. My heart but the pain is beautiful now.
Earned.
Damien walks in without a sound.
Shirtless. Eyes like storms.
Holding something small in his hand.
A key.
He kneels in front of the bed.
Doesn’t speak.
Just looks up at me like I’m holy.
And then…
He clips a leash onto my collar.
“Ready to meet the others?”
I blink.
“The others?”
He tilts his head.
Smiles like I just asked the right question on a test designed to break minds.
“You didn’t think there was just me, did you?”
He tugs the leash gently. Enough to pull me off the bed, onto trembling knees.
The collar tightens with every inch I crawl toward him.
He doesn’t force it.
He knows I’ll come.
