Page 76 of Servitude to Serpents

“Goodnight, Stuart.”

He takes two steps toward me, his finger lifted. For a moment, I think he might hit me. In all these years, I’ve never once came to blows with the man; never in all my life has he raised a hand to me, nor I to him, aside from him slapping me back to my senses back at that warehouse. “Fucking sort it. Your father didn’t take a bullet to the skull to watch you take the piss in his name,” he seethes before stalking down the hall. “You’re either serpent or prey, Warrick. You cannot be both,” he calls over his shoulder, and suddenly, the sobbing stops as she listens. I sit there long after she crawls away from the door, collapsing in her bed.

Chapter twenty-eight

To own is to… Demand

Chloe

“There are eighty-eight keys, each one with an equally important part to play. Every key is unique too, and just not outwardly. It’s the way they vibrate the cords that makes them different, the style in which they’re hit that makes them resonate. When done right, they hum beautifully, melding together to create something…special,” I mumble to theEchis Carinatus, otherwise known as the saw-scaled viper as it perches on its sunning rock in the elaborate habitat. Its stunning scales are raised away from its body slightly, unlike other snakes, like the jagged teeth of a saw. Its slightly bulbous flat head watches me with interest. I glance down at one of the hundreds of textbooks on snakes at my feet, the pages slowly drying from the tears that graced it a little while ago. The viper seems to glance down at it too, as if to figure out what was so interesting that it interrupted our conversation.

“I think I’m starting to understand, Remus.” Remus, because that’s what I named him. “I get why they thought it was easier to send me away than keep mehome. It hurts seeing something that hurt you, being forced to love it despite the dagger it wedges in your heart at every glance. What ifs and all that. I suppose I should’ve known; I was being silly, really. None of this was ever going to end up being okay.” I huff, leaning my forehead against the glass. “My head feels weird again today, like I’m not really in it. I wonder why that is.”

It has been almost two weeks since Master got home from his overnight trip, two weeks since he paid me any real mind at all. Other than giving me my daily tasks, keeping me occupied, I guess. Even those only last me until the afternoon. My heart feels perpetually wretched, but I’ve stopped crying for the most part. Now, I just…don’t feel much at all, if I’m being honest. It’s the closest I’ve felt toher, the Chloe from before. The gray area I seemed to thrive in feels jarring and uncomfortable now. Almost two years, two entire years of servitude, of fucking and crying and being thrust to lows and heights I never thought capable, and now I’m…leftover, entirely at the will of my own devices.

It’s not freeing like I’d imagined it would be in those early months at Bloom.

In fact, most days, I can’t breathe.

I drag my eyes back to the viper, watching his desert-toned scales work as he coils himself tighter on his rock. A bite from the bug-eyed dude can cause anything from random bleeding and heart palpitations to brain hemorrhage and lots of other lovely stuff. Despite his small size, he’s a deadly mix of hemotoxins, neurotoxins, cytotoxins, and cardiotoxins, affecting more or less every type of tissue in the human body. He watches me with rapt interest as I reach up, unlocking his habitat. The dry heat warms my skin instantly as I reach in. His scales make their odd sizzling sound, a warning I ignore. I’m not supposed to touch them, not even allowed to join in for their feedings. His scales are rough like callouses as I run my finger along him. The viper tightens its coil further, letting its head move off the rock.

“Thank you. We shouldn’t be long.”

I jolt, my head whipping toward the archway as Stuart passes, a curvy brunette following quickly behind him. Her red heels clack on the hardwood. My heart does a somersault, plummeting to my stomach. A yelp escapes me as I turn backto the viper in just enough time to watch his strike narrowly miss my suspended hand. Scrambling, I lock his habitat, trampling over textbooks as I bolt up the stairs, only in time to see Stuart usher the woman into Master's office, shutting the door behind her. When he turns to me, his eyes are as hateful as ever, but with an inkling of amusement.

I open my mouth, my chest blooming with an uncomfortable heat that spreads to every limb, vomit curdling my stomach. I take a moment to find the words, but Stuart seems content to watch me flounder. “Who is—"

“It’s not your business.”

“Stuart—"

“It’s about time for your daily run, is it not?”

Tears well in my eyes as they dart toward the closed doors and the man guarding them. I couldtry, maybe even reach the handles. We both know that Stuart, even with his advanced age, would shut that down quickly.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Get changed. I’ll wait.”

I turn, bolting inside my room, the walls rattling with the force of the slamming door.

He hasme. I’mhis.

She wasn’t dressed like that, though, was she? Her outfit was well curated, expensive. Tight but modest.

She’s in there with him, in the place we spend so much time together.Ourplace.

My heart wrenches, my body shaking as I quickly dress myself in my exercise clothes, not bothering to clean up the mess in my room. I haven’t in days, and he has yet to say a word about it. He doesn’t care.

Why would he?

Stepping in front of the mirror, I’m met with panicked, teary brown eyes. The freckles on my face stand out against my pale, lifeless flesh. Even to my own eyes…I lookrough. My lips are raw from constant chewing. My chin wobbles as I quickly brush my hair, tossing it up in a messy bun. I’m frantic, sobbing as I tryto right my appearance, doing skincare for the first time in a week, like it’ll fix the gaunt puffiness in my face. For a moment, I’m in the concrete room, staring at the piss-soaked girl in the mirror, the one without the name. Anxiety grips me, clamping down hard on my lungs as I gasp, sobbing.

I can see my trainer’s snake-skin boots, hear the harsh buzz of the prod, feel the lap of saltwater as it burns my eyes and pulls me under the tide. I can feelher, gripping me with uncoordinated panic.

She’s pulling me down too.

We’re both going to drown.

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