Page 2 of The Doll and The Domination

And for the first time since we got here, Dessin smiles.

2. Good Morning

Skylenna

“I’ll make this brief.” Kaspias ignores my threat, taking a bored look at the rest of our group. “Make any attempts to escape, and your equilibrium will leave you sick and disoriented. This is a prison, and yet, it’s so much more. You’ll have to endure the new culture until the Mazonist Twins are ready to meet you.”

“Mazonist Twins?” Ruth asks.

I remember Aurick teaching me about the founders of Dementia and Vexamen. Orin Blackforth and Abraham Demechnef. Malcolm and Maxwell Mazonist. Looks like they’re still alive and kicking.

“The leaders of Vexamen,” Warrose mutters. “What are they like, a hundred now?”

“Pretty close,” Dessin responds without tearing his eyes from his brother.

“There is only one rule. Since you can’t escape, consent is essential, ladies.” Kaspias points his eerie glare at me, then Ruth, then Marilynn. “This is a co-ed prison. But if you consent to pleasing soldiers or commanders, you’ll be exempt from participating in the Fun House Nights.”

Consent? I look to Dessin, who is seething at the word.

“What’s Fun House Night?” I ask.

But the commander is unnaturally still as he pins a long, unsettling stare on his twin brother. The cords in his neck flex outward, shifting back and forth as he grinds his teeth. Those dark caramel eyes twitch like he’s forgotten about the rest of us while he examines the physical appearance of Dessin. Is he comparing their similarities? Judging their differences? Inspecting any weaknesses Dessin might have?

The length of this piercing stretch of quiet rings in my ears. I would be lying if I said I’m not affected by the layers of intimidation bleeding from this commander’s pores. So similar to Dessin. Yet cold dread has never crept into my very bones just by being in the same proximity as him.

Kaspias steps back into the shadows of the long hallway filled with creepy music from an old-fashioned pipe organ, a distorted trumpet, and incoherent gibberish from other prisoners banging against their cages. The exit is as smooth and seamless as smoke dissipating in the wind.

Our group is silent, but our thoughts are loud. We take several minutes to adjust to our new situation. To process the information Kaspias threw in our faces.

“How the fuck is it possible that he’s scarier than you, Dess?” Niles breaks the silence.

“Please.” Dessin sighs. “Don’t give me a nickname.”

I sit against the bars of my cage, taking deep, calming breaths, and rack my brain to figure out what comes next. And I can feel Dessin doing the same.

In one loud clank, our cage doors open. And judging by the echoes of metal hitting stone, feet shuffling, prisoners groaning, and the floor rumbling, it’s safe to say that they’re releasing us for the day. A stampede of male and female prisoners stumble from the darkness into the hall, shoving one another, gripping the bars of other cages for support.

Dessin gives us the signal to stay put as they pass. It’s like we’re invisible. No one seems to care about the new arrivals. Some inmates limp with bloody, bare feet. Some crawl across the jagged, rough floor. And based on the blur of moving faces, they all seem bruised, beaten, and raw.

I shift my gaze to Dessin. His eyes move over the mass of people quickly. Studying them. Assessing their injuries. His mind moves puzzle pieces around.

We wait until the hallways clear and step out cautiously. Before we follow the last stragglers, Dessin turns to me, dragging me into the safety of his arms, caging me against his bare chest. My arms close around his waist, feeling the raised burn scars across his back. I stroke them lovingly.

“Are you okay?” he asks, lips pressed against my hair, hot breath warming my ear.

I nod against his shoulder with tears burning my eyes. Emotion clogs my throat, not because I’m afraid, but because I needed this. His muscular body pressed against my soft curves. His steel arms gripping me so tightly I’m not sure he’ll ever let go.

“You’re not leaving my side while we’re here.” He fists the hair on the back of my head, drawing me in closer. “You understand?”

I melt a little at his words. “Okay.” I don’t want to be separated from him either. But I’m not sure if that’s something we can control.

We part so I can hug Ruth and Niles. Warrose and Dessin nod at each other, still clearly not on good terms. And I peek over Niles’s shoulder at Marilynn, watching us with tired sapphire blue eyes and pursed lips.

“I bet you’re wishing you stayed back with Aurick, huh?” I tease.

Her round, dreamy eyes glide back to me. “It’s not like fate gave me a choice in the matter.” Her tone is layered with thorns and broken glass. I step away, deciding now really isn’t the time to learn more about her prickly personality.

“Should we do another group hug?” Niles chirps.

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