Reduced to a number. Like I’m not even human.
“I…okay.”
He rises swiftly from his chair, his movements tight and concise like an athlete. Towering over me, he taps a black rod against his palm.Tap, tap.
“Yes,sir,”he corrects me, his eyes narrow.
I blink quickly. My lips part. Something in me cracks.
Kneeling before him, staring up at his enormity and unmistakable display of power—that’s when I feel it. An awakening. An emergence of sensation in my most private flesh, blooming like a flower begging for sun.
This man terrifies me, but at the same time, I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t explain. Like a hole that’s found its missing peg.
“Yes,sir,” I repeat obediently.
He nods coldly. Not a hint of humanity or expression on his stern face. He might as well be a moving statue, carved from marble. Even his eyes are unblinking.
“I, Killian Rew, am the warden here at Last Rites, as well as chief correctional officer. From this moment on, you will be under my surveillance twenty-four hours a day, and you will obey my every last word. Understood?”
My breath goes cold, but the ache near my pelvis warms and rises, pooling in my belly.
What is happening to me?
Somehow, I manage to nod, and in a flash, the tip of his black rod is beneath my chin, like a snake ready to strike. It smells of leather and discipline. And I understand now; if I disobey, he will use it on me.
“You don’t nod, inmate,” he says. “What do you say?”
It takes all my willpower to find my voice. “Y-yes, sir…”
He shakes his head, disapproving. “Stop pretending you’re some innocent little girl, Alice. You are a criminal. That’s why you’re here.”
I want to protest, but what’s the point? Shouting at the judge was one thing, but I can’t raise my voice to this man. The result would be…catastrophic.
“Okay.” He nods to the guards. “Time for her physical exam. Bring her.”
He leaves the room first. The two men beside me grab me roughly by the arms and drag me after him, down a long hall and into a white room that resembles an infirmary. There is nothing but an overhead light and a bed covered in white sheets.
“Remove her handcuffs and leave us,” Killian tells them. The men unchain me, and I might be imagining things, but I’m pretty sure they bow before excusing themselves.
The warden levels his eyes at me, and as casually as we were discussing the weather, tells me—
“Strip.”
My jaw drops. His words bury themselves in my chest and my mind flashes back to the judge’s gavel hammering out my sentence and my mom scorning me as I was hauled away.
Killian’s pitiless eyes pin me in place, piercing through my exterior and straight into my soul.
“W-what?” I gasp.
“You heard me.Strip,” he repeats. “You are required to undergo a physical examination before you are taken to your cell.”
I’m trembling as I gaze back at him, helpless. But then it happens.
Killian lashes out with his rod, snapping the corded leather against the wall by my head with a crack that sounds like lightning. I gasp reflexively, but nothing comes out.
“You will obey my every last word,” he repeats, this time with a dark, threatening tone.
Fear grips my stomach as I reach for the top button of my jumpsuit. No man has ever even seen me in a bikini, and hewants me to get naked for him. I bite my lower lip and try to calm my heart.
