Page 38 of Scourged

Mariah obeyed, screaming in her mind the entire time, but she knew her face was slack and her eyes were empty.

The girlswho bathed and dressed her were gentle, and Mariah couldn’t deny it was nice to feel clean for the first time in weeks. Her hair was washed, skin scrubbed and shaved, her face brightened with powder, and her eyes lined with kohl.

Any feelings of thankfulness dissipated when she caught her first glimpse of what they planned to clothe her in.

Mariah had worn plenty of what others might deem to be scandalous articles of clothing in her life. She’d even worn no more than lingerie to her own Winter Solstice, her body on display for hundreds to see.

But that had always been on herownterms, and she’d worn those clothes as a tribute to her power. This … this was amockery. A clear attempt to devalue her, debase her, to ensure she felt as worthless as they wanted her to believe she was.

One of the servant girls picked up the scrap of fabric, a flimsy, see-through thing layered with tulle and lined with feathers and lace. “Step forward, please,” she said meekly, keeping her eyes downcast.

With the drugs pumping through her, Mariah had no choice but to obey. The two girls slid the dress up her body, turning her to face the mirror in the corner.

When she saw her reflection, her mind crumpled. Collapsed inward like a dying star. With just a glance, she knew what this night had in store for her.

Mariah had lost so much weight in the passing weeks, but she knew she was still beautiful; just not in the way she’d always loved. Gone were her curves, the muscles that filled out her shoulders and arms and legs. Instead, she was all sharp angles, pale skin, and straight lines.

The barely there garment she wore just brushed the skin of her upper thighs, and with a pang in her chest she knew that mere weeks ago, she wouldn’t have fit in such a scrap of material. She wore no underwear, too aware of how bare she was under the light pink lace and tulle.

Everything about her appearance was an attack on who she was, on the power she’d tried to reclaim for women across the kingdom.

Tonight, dressed this way, she would belong to the men around her.

She no longer belonged to herself.

Mariah retreated further into the dark recesses of her mind as Ellis reappeared in the chamber doorway, perusing her form as a look that made Mariah shrink flickered across his face.

“You girls are dismissed. Mariah—you come with me.”

Mariah begged and pleaded for her feet to stay rooted to the ground, for the drugs pulsing through her system to dissipate and grant her back her autonomy.

Nothing worked. She turned, leaving the image of the empty, dark-haired doll clothed in blush-pink fabric in the mirror as she stepped after the guard and into the hall.

Her feet were bare, and she felt every touch of the cold stone on her soles. Mariah trailed behind Ellis, her body rigid and tight and not hers. The guard stopped, stepping to the side to watch as she continued padding forward.

Of course, she didn’t stop. No more than an automation, a statue given life.

He didn’t touch her until she’d drawn up beside him.

“Stop,” he commanded, his voice carrying a tinge of something that made her want to whimper if she could.

She halted.

Ellis circled her like a shark that dwelled in the Mirrored Sea, a finger pressed against his lips, eyes too hungry.

“I’ve waited many, many weeks for them to make you fair game to us,” he said, low and cruel. The finger against his lips reached out to her chest, pulling at the lace and tulle around her cleavage. “A bit thin for my taste, but …” His hand slid around her body, grasping her ass, pulling her flush against him. He smelled of sweat and alcohol and hatred, and the bulge of his erection had her stomach roiling with the beginnings of a gag.

She couldn’t react. Her face was frozen as her body revolted against the touch, the beast within clawing for a way out.

But that was the problem with beasts in chains. Those chains often held, and the beast stayed in its cage.

“I suppose I’ll look past it for a chance at some Goddess-blessed pussy.” His voice was as thick as blood in her hair.

“Sir Ellis!” a shrill, feminine voice echoed down the hallway. The guard released Mariah with a frustrated growl, stepping back and whirling to meet the newcomer.

“Lady Anniliese. How can I help you?”

If Mariah could feel anything other than lifelessness and disgust, she would’ve been swept away by burning rage at the sight of the pretty, dark-haired girl rounding the corner, clothed in an elegant gown of cobalt blue.

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