Page 18 of Tyrant

“Good,” he says.

He moves fast, releasing the grip on his cock and next thing I know he has my left hand. The knife swipes through the air with ease, the tip of the sharp place hitting my palm. I see blood before I feel the sting.

A voice in my head tells me not to gasp. Not to make a sound. Or else it’ll get worse from here. I hate the sight of blood. It makes me want to pass out.

“Open your mouth,my claimed,” he orders me.

I can’t believe how quickly I listen to him. No resistance. No wanting to resist either. I open my mouth and stick out mytongue. There’s a faint droplet of my blood on the tip of the knife. He touches the knife to my tongue, depositing my blood.

“Taste,” he whispers.

He moves the knife and I taste my blood. He then lifts the knife to his own face and the knife disappears behind his mask.

He’s licking my spit off his knife?

This guy is fucking insane. He’s terrifyingly insane. I can’t stop watching. I can’t stop looking at his nipple piercing. I can’t stop moving my eyes quickly down and back up so I can see his huge cock pressing the inside of his pants. And this guy… wants me?

“See you soon, Serafina,” he says.

He turns and walks through the library, his boots echoing with each heavy step. Even that. The boots. The boots and the pants. Shirtless. Muscles.

Running in boots…

It’s just so… I’m not sure if I should stand or not yet. Once at the door, he pauses and calls out, “By the way,my claimed, you looked so peaceful sleeping last night.”

That’s when I let out an audible gasp. He chuckles out loud and leaves the library. My body shivers and I fall back to my butt, sitting on the floor. I hug my knees.

He was in my room last night while I slept. He watched me sleep. Did he… do anything…

My toes curl again. I don’t feel disgusted by that thought. I feel turned on by it.

Maybe I am just as fucked up as everyone else here at Sinners Academy.

Lia won’t tellme a thing about what just happened, and to make matters worse, I am mandated to talk to someone. Waiting for me back in my room is an itinerary. I still don’t understand what I’m supposed to be doing here. Attending classes? Learning a skill? Or just wait around to be stalked by masked men and mentally tortured?

Her name is Esme. That’s who I’m supposed to talk to. Is she a psychiatrist? Some kind of counselor? I have no idea.

I walk along an old, cobblestone path toward a small building. The door is large and heavy when I pull it open. The inside of the building smells old yet clean.

I’m standing in some waiting room area but there’s nobody around. I’m right on time. Right where I’m supposed to be.But nothing. Nobody.

My heart suddenly does a backflip. I fear this is a trick. The guys in the masks… the guy with the knife…

“Fuck,” I whisper.

I turn to bolt for the door when another door opens.

“Serafina,” a woman says.

She’s in a dark gray women’s suit. Her hair is short-ish, shoulder length, dark brown. She’s wearing thin, gold-framed glasses.

“I’m Esme,” she says. “Let’s have a chat.”

I walk into her office. It’s dimly lit and there’s the soft sound of bubbles coming from a fish tank in the corner. My eyes look at a school of neon tetra as they swim together through green and purple plastic plants.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Esme says. “This is a good place to hide.”

“Hide? Hide from what?” I ask.

---