“W-why am I still here?” I ask, choosing to ignore his turn of phrase. It’s like someone has told him all of the right things to say, but he’s saying them all in the wrong way. Because he’s not giving me options, he’s not asking me for obedience. He’s demanding it, with the threat of violence if I don’t follow along. This is not the stuff little subbies dream of.
“You are here with me to be trained,” he says like that explains anything at all. He lets go of my nipple, and I hiss again for the new burn that created. “Now stand still and be quiet while I check your shoulder.” He gives me a long stare to be sure I’m going to listen before he starts to peel the bandage back.
I can’t stomach to see the wounds on my shoulder. Once I see the black stitches, I turn away. Someone stitched me up. And they must have given me pain medicine because it doesn’t hurt like it should.
I close my eyes and turn away again when he starts to probe at the edges of the wound. When I open them, ready to tell him off for making the pain come alive again, I realize he left the door to the cage open when he entered.
He’s not holding me at all, just probing the damn wound and setting it on fire again. My heart thunders in my chest; I may not get another chance.
“I wouldn’t, but that’s just me,” he says in a low voice.
I don’t care about his warning. I bolt outside the cage and head for the main door to the room. My legs are still heavy from whatever sedative they gave me, but my mind is finally cleared.
“Fuck you.” I grab for the door handle and yank. Nothing. I yank again and again. “No! No!” I scream and smack the door. It has to open, I have to get out.
I hear a heavy sigh from behind me. Like a parent who’s already told the toddler ten times they can’t have the candy in the store.
“Glupaya devchonka,”stupid girl.His voice carries over to me. He hasn’t left the cage.
I yank harder, turning the knob, but still the door won’t open. Tears cloud my vision, but I shake them away.
“Let me out!” I demand, turning to face him. “Let me go! Now!” I scream, making my throat burn again.
He doesn’t move. The asshole looks fucking amused at my demand.
“Come back here.” He crooks a finger at me like I’m some dog going to come when he calls.
“No. Fuck you.” I shake my head.
“Magdalena, come here like a good girl, and the punishment will be much less.” Silk laces his tone.
“Let me go now, and I won’t kill you.” My promise is given with a heavier feel to it - even though it’s complete bullshit.
His lips curl, slowly at first, then he breaks out into a deep, chest rumbling laugh. “Kill me?” He tsks his tongue, still he hasn’t moved toward me.
“Yes. I’ll fucking end you,” I goad him.
His smile drops a fraction. “Come, Magdalena, it will be so much worse for you if I have to drag you back in here.”
My hands flex at my sides. If my heart would stop all the thundering in my chest, maybe I could hear my own thoughts. I’m trapped, and no matter all the threats, I doubt my strongest attack would even tickle the mass of muscle that is standing in the cage.
But to go willingly would be giving up, and I can’t do that.
His hands move to his belt and the jangle of metal echoed in the room. He pulls the strap free of his pants in one easy movement.
“Come, Magdalena,” he says, crooking that damn finger again. “Take your punishment and learn this lesson.”
“No.” I shake my head, but my lip is starting to quiver. I have nowhere to go. He’s going to win this round.
He sighs again.
“If you don’t obey me, Magdalena, my father will see your stubbornness as a reason to feed you to his men.” His tone softens, like he’s trying to reason with me. “After they’ve all raped you, tortured you, and hurt you, he’ll give you back to me and you’ll still get the punishment you’ve earned. And things will be not so pleasant for you.”
I swallow back the little whimper dying to come out. He’s telling the truth, I’d heard Andrei already make that threat. And I have no doubt it would be easily done.
His finger is crooked, he’s still beckoning me. And like a frightened puppy, I take the first step back into my cage. I need to survive. That thought carries me the rest of the way, back into the cell, back to him.
“Good.” Any tenderness that may have been there before falls away. “Stay.” And I do. I stand, powerless, watching him leave the cage and go to a cabinet at the far end of the room. I can’t see the contents, but when he returns, he’s holding a set of black leather cuffs.