I walked into the room in a daze. Azrael was expecting me to be my best, and I would give him what I could, take the punishment for failing him when it happened. I wondered what his punishments would be. I wondered what his rules would be. I was his Favorite now, so they might have changed.
Years ago, I had been so excited at the possibility of being his Favorite. Now? I think that I would have been more excited before I had become so impure. Before my soul was so exhausted, but how could I be excited about something like this?I wasn’t free. I was simply being transferred from one cage to another.
Thomas watched me as he forced me to clean myself up. When I was done, he exchanged my clothes for a short dress, stockings, and black boots. He took my tangled ponytail out, ripped at my hair until all the tangles were gone, and shook it out until it fell around my face and down my back, the strands soft against my skin. Finally, he put a necklace on me. A silver chain with a large red heart.
I paused at that, seeing it rest between my breasts. It was so shiny that it glowed. The dress was white and red, the top of it covering only half of my breasts, falling to mid-thigh, the stockings white with blue stripes, rolled up over my knees. The black boots even had silver buckles.
It was almost exactly what I had always dreamed of wearing. Not as much red as I would have liked, but close enough to make me wonder if maybe he could truly read my mind.
Thomas stepped back after finishing my makeup, and sighed, taking me in. “I don’t understand people’s tastes.” After a moment, he clicked his tongue. “You know the rules,” he told me, leading me out the door. “Being a Favorite doesn’t mean he has the right to touch you anymore than the Leaders. You’re still somewhat pure, if he ruins that, I’ll send you straight to Absolution. Is that understood?”
I hoped he understood that his father granted Azrael this access. I was his Favorite now too. He could do what he wanted to me and face no repercussions. Not that any of the Leaders had ever had repercussions, but this was different. Pastor Masters would stop Thomas from punishing me for Azrael doing exactly what he was allowed to do.
But when had the rules ever protected me?
I followed him down the hall, my feet grateful for the shift in footwear.
I had been on my knees in the other room, but those heels were not kind to me. They had dug into my butt, stretching out my ankle, and they always made the balls of my feet ache. I was so sore.
I walked into the room, our room as I had come to know it, and straight to the center, the lights blinding as Thomas made sure I was standing in the correct position. This position was easy. I was simply standing in the center of the room, heels together, back straight, shoulders back, head down.
When he was done, he leaned in, his hot breath whispering across my face. “Test me, girl, I dare you. Give me a reason to get rid of you both.”
The threat was empty. At least, it felt empty to me. It didn’t hold the weight, the truth, that Azrael’s did when he made them. Thomas might very well kill me, but I think that behind that irritation for Azrael rested real fear.
Good. He should fear the sea. He’d never survive the flood that was coming.
The second I heard the door close, I closed my eyes, the fabric of the skirt soft under my folded hands. They were still bruised from the convention, but they weren’t as sore today. My jaw and mouth hurt the most, and if I moved my tongue around too much, I could still taste the semen there. I wished he would have allowed me to swirl some water around my mouth, but I think he just resented everything regarding me right now.
The door opened a moment later, closing softly, and I felt that warm gaze wash over me.
I wished that I wasn’t so tired. I wanted to show him that his choice was good. That I could be a good Favorite.
I could be the best Favorite he ever had.
The warmth grew, spreading across my body, heating my skin. He was getting closer. “Palm up.”
I lifted my right hand, palm up, hoping he didn’t see how much—
“Are you frightened?” he asked, something strange in his voice today. There was that lilt, that psychotic little hum, but there was something else there too. Rage? Anger? Or maybe something more complicated than that.
I remained still. One tap was yes, no taps was no.
“Are you listening?” he asked evenly.
I tapped my left index finger gently against my thigh.
A second later, something dropped into my palm. “Eat,” he instructed.
I placed the mint in my mouth, sliding it around my tongue, grateful for the taste.
“Hand.”
I held it out again and felt a bottle a moment later.
“Drink.”
I took a drink, swirling it viciously, trying to get the water into every little crevice of my mouth before swallowing it. I took another few gulps after, the icy pain of the mint and water almost relieving.
