Page 58 of Servitude to Serpents

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

My hair brushes my dampening cheeks as she rushes toward me, pulling me into her arms, ignoring the shaking of my head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just- It’s hardto explain,” I sob.It’s my name.

It’s my name, one I was robbed of. Why should I cry when it's given back to me? Why does hearing it make anxiety clamp down on my chest?

She shushes me, rocking us gently. “In many cultures, names have power, meanings aside from just sounding pretty. They themselves are like parts of our souls, parts of us. When we give them to those we can trust, they have the power to hurt or hold. You were stripped of yours, Lord help us. I can’t fathom the things done in that house.”

I swallow back the lump in my throat. “The men you keep… Were they not from Bloom?”

“Absolutely not. They are simply friends, lovers who needed or wanted to be under my employ, coming and going as they please, serving as they please. They are collared when they are willing to be in the subservient space, much like me. Andres also pays them well for their time with us.”

“Why does he want a spot in the circle so badly?”

She chuckles, pulling me away from her chest to wipe at my tears. “Money and power, like anyone else. We may not beBloombad, but we are far from perfect. Even here, making deals with Basilisk, tested every last gray line we had drawn in the sand.” I don’t fight her as she tugs me from the bed, easing me toward my vanity seat. It’s several minutes of me sniffling and her quiet, soft humming, her playing with my hair before she speaks again. “You seem quite….content with him.”

Those ridiculous butterflies fill my stomach again, battering the insides with tickling swishes of emerald wings. “I love him.”

The brush pauses in my hair, her breathing quieting, as if to compound the insanity of my statement. I hazard a peek at her in the mirror. Her beautiful dark skin looks even more stunning with the pale hair held in her hands. Her face is unreadable until she meets my eyes, letting out a sigh I’m familiar with, one you release when your child breaks some unexpected news. “Does he love you back, you think?”

I know she doesn’t believe me, probably thinks I’ve gone entirely out of mymind. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ve lost it somewhere along the way, but not much can be done about that now, I suppose. “Of course not. He’s my master. I’m-I’m a toy.”

It's impossible for me not to smile as her musical laughter fills the room. “I don’t begin to understand the inner workings of a man like that, but I can assure you, sweetheart, he doesn’t see you asjusta toy.”

The fluttering of the butterflies turns deadly, scoring and marking up my insides as I lift my hand to my chest, worried for a split second my pounding heart might bruise the skin from the inside. My master hates when I bruise flesh that is his to mar. Her onyx eyes meet mine in the mirror, and she hikes an angular brow at my expression. “Well, at least we won’t need to apply any blush tonight,” she teases, making me laugh.

It almost feels normal.

Like she’s my friend getting me ready to go out.

Like we could walk out and get a cab.

We could go wherever.

My hair is inlaid with thick, artful braids, twisted together into a bun. Loose strands hang in ringlets around my face, not too different from how Mom would style it when I was little. I swallow hard, pushing the woman from my thoughts, a worm of guilt swathing me. It's getting easier, not to think about them. Mom and Dad, my job, like what’s happening now and my life before happened to two different people entirely. It’s getting easier to swallow the idea of never going back, of never leaving him, never being set free.

I listen intently as Mahari tells me about her life as a model, of all the places she went and promises she’ll see that Master lets me visit them all one day, maybe even with her, of the way she met Andres at an afterparty and fell in love with the way he laughed so loudly, it hurt her ears.

“His money was nice too,” she adds, winking at me.

We both sputter, trying to choke back our laughter. We fail quickly, laughing until my stomach aches as we try to focus on getting my makeup done so we can head downstairs. Henrietta came up at least fifteen minutes ago, letting us knowour food was ready.

She stands me in front of the long mirror in the bathroom down the hall. My eyes trail over the off-white dress hugging the swells of my body. The neckline is high, the bottom half splitting up my thigh. I look…regal. Expensive. Mature in a way Master rarely leaves me feeling. I don’t mind it; I enjoy feeling small with him, but this feels good too.

“I’m sure your master would’ve preferred you in the shade from earlier, but this was just too gorgeous. Valentino is a god.”

I tug my brows together, digging my teeth into my lip, wondering if I should change into something blue. “Sir seems to prefer me in blue, especially if we go out.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Men and their bizarre secret society shit.” When she meets my confused look in the mirror, she continues. “Colors have meaning in their world, especially when it’s on women. Red speaks for itself, and they save black for common people in the...trade, ones who can be shared but not…too roughly. White is innocent, unbroken and unplucked women, sometimes wives, butblue…Royal blueis reserved for those who are untouchable, not to be approached, owned and reserved for only their master. It’s a rare sight, but one taken seriously. It's a cherished companion, one the master has raised to their station.”

My lips part, swaying a little as the blood rushes through my body.

Cherished.

My breath halts in my lungs as she presses a kiss to my shoulder. There's nothing sexual about the look in her eyes or the way it makes me feel, just a soft, maybe even a little sad maternal expression that makes my throat clog again. I don’t think when I spin, throwing myself into her arms so hard, it nearly knocks us both off balance. She laughs softly, snuggling me tighter. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but I’m sure it’s a while.

“Pup...” His warning voice jolts me as I jerk away from Mahari, dropping to my knees.

“Master.”

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