Page 63 of Deviant

I glance back at the two women. Neither of them meet my gaze but in my head, I curse them all the same, I scream at them, I damn them for their part in this, and I make a promise that if I ever get out, I’ll get my revenge on them, too.

I’ll make them pay.

I can barely getout of the car.

Magnus has to drag me out and my legs refuse to work.

All I can do is stare up at those same awful blood red walls as my head repeats that I’m here again. That whatever horrific things he did to me last time, he’s going to do it again.

How many more people will die tonight? What disgusting, unimaginable horrors will he make me do, will he force me to endure?

When we finally get inside, he doesn’t take me down, instead he hauls me up. My feet slam into the stairs as he all but drags me up one flight and then another. I guess I should count myself lucky that he’s not turned the collar on yet as a punishment. Silver linings and all that.

Around, I can hear those same awful sounds. That heavy, heady, constant beat, and those same moans and groans.

My eyes dart about as we make our way through a large hall. The room is filled with people. Half are wearing masks, and half are clearly not hiding themselves at all, as if they have no shame.

It’s like an orgy, though from what I can see not all the participants want to be there.

I shudder, I shut my eyes, and I pray to whatever God might listen that I will give them my soul, I will give them whatever they want if they just let me die right here, right now. If they just grant me this mercy, I will do anything. Absolutely anything.

Enough of the room stills, enough of them turn their heads and they stare at Magnus, at me, at my body. Revulsion creeps up my spine, settles into my stomach and as I try to hide my body, Magnus forces my arms down to show me off like a trophy.

“Keep fucking moving,” he says, his voice piercing through my desperate pleas to just make this all stop.

As we make it to a door, I don’t know whether to be relieved or not. Too many faces were watching me, too many people were clearly enjoying my shame as I was paraded through. But beyond this space, behind this door, is whatever Magnus has planned.

Would I rather be stood naked in front of a thousand strangers than be forced to endure his sole attention? Yes. Yes, I would. If that was the price, if that’s what it took, I would stand here, and I would endure that, rather than face whatever the hell is coming next.

But of course, I’m not granted such a reprieve. Such a mercy.

I’m pushed inside and my feet meet the confusing softness of a plush, luxurious rug.

I glance down, feeling like this luxury is so out of place and my mind can’t reconcile it. Ahead, I can see figures, people. The room looks like a lounge. Two couches face one another. The rug spans most of the room. There’s a drinks cabinet on one wall and a fire is burning enough to take away the chill.

“You took your time,” someone says.

I look up, meeting the gaze of a bearded man, dressed in that all too familiar robe. He folds his arms, tilts his head, and stares at me.

“Did you not request entertainment?” Magnus says, dropping his grip and striding in past me, just as I hear the door close.

“You needed to see to it personally?” Another man laughs. “Like we couldn’t have just plucked any whore from the hall?”

“This one does not belong to Oblivion.” Magnus states, taking the glass being offered to him and for a second, he clearly relishes the tastes before he adds, “This one belongs only to me.”

More eyebrows raise. Someone lets out a laugh that sends a shiver right down my spine.

“Surely not?” the first man says, stepping up to me and I immediately take a step back, putting as much distance as Ipossibly can in the circumstances. “Is this her, the journalist, what’s her name…”

“Liliana Edwards.” Magnus says, as if he’s laying claim to my name as well as my body.

I glare back at him and he responds immediately by putting the drink down, grabbing hold of me, and throwing me to my knees right in the centre of them all.

“She’s still learning to be obedient.” Magnus says over me. “But even in her resistance, there is a lot of fun to be had.”

I can’t look up. I can’t do anything beyond clutch at the rug as if I could dissolve into it. I can already see what’s coming. I can see how this is going to play out. Clearly, these men are Brethren Lords too.

Is he going to let them all fuck me?

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