Page 69 of Cruel Master
It’s hard to explain what a relief it is.
For that one second, I thought he’d become someone truly unrecognizable. Because taking me captive isn’t enough to fit that description, apparently.
Hadrian stares down at me, and his face changes as I watch, settling back into his cold, master persona. “Any other questions, doll? Or shall we get started with the tour of the Compound.”
The what? My heart had just started to settle, but now it rips to life again, slamming into my ribs. A tour. Does that mean…
“You’re taking me out of the cell?”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to dash my hopes. He’ll laugh and say “Of course not. You’re in here for life.” I just know it.
Instead, he gives a single nod. “It’s a privilege. I know you won’t understand the Brotherhood until you see it for yourself. We’ll return here afterward. If you behave well, there will be more opportunities to go outside.”
Outside.
It’s a golden carrot, and I race toward it.
I get to leave this room. Breathe outside air. Get a sense of where the hell I actually am and what is really going on. It’s like he’s handed me a gift, and I grab it with everything I have. “I will. I promise.”
“No otherquestions?”
Only a million. But they all crumble into dust at the prospect of leaving the cell. “No. Let’s go. Please.”
He smiles. It’s only there for a second, but it’s enough to make my heart twist. It’s Hadrian’s smile, his real one, not the savage one I’ve seen a lot of recently.
“If you insist.”
Hadrian walks to the replenishing chest, and I know before he opens it what will happen. He’ll have an outfit in there. It’s how he often chooses to bring in new things. I stay frozen, sure that if I move a single muscle, he’ll change his mind.
I watch him closely as he opens the chest. There’s tension in him that isn’t usually there. His movements, usually calm and measured, feel a little rushed. However much he’s hiding it, taking me out of prison is doing something to him, though I can’t be sure what. Maybe he’s excited, but he could equally be anxious.
As if he’s the one that should be afraid. As I think it, my stomach clenches. I don’t believe everything Hadrian has told me about what he calls the Brotherhood, but cults aren’t exactly known for being safe spaces for captured women.
What if there are other men out there?
No. Focus on the positives. Sunlight. Air. My cell has come to represent a fucked-up kind of safety, and that means I really need to get out of it. Much longer, and I’ll be like a bird that stays put even though the cage is open.
What is he going to dress me in? Latex? Just a collar and leash? My skin tingles at the thought, and it’s almost an anticlimax when he pulls out a plain white shift dress. It’s short, but nothing I wouldn’t wear on a normal day back in the real world.
I swear he’s fighting a smirk when he sees my face. He holds the dress up for my inspection. “Expecting something morerevealing? You’re my slave, doll. No one else gets to look at your body. Now get dressed.”
He hands it over, and I freeze at the unfamiliar feel of the garment in my hands. I’ve been naked for…I still haven’t worked it out. A long time. Dressing feels more awkward than being naked, and once I’ve pulled the dress over my head and smoothed it down, the cotton presses on my skin in an annoying way.
Did I really used to wear clothes every single day? How restrictive. He hasn’t given me a bra, and thank God, because I don’t think I could cope with one of those right now. My nipples show through the thin fabric—obviously he’s notthatprotective of my modesty—and he hasn’t given me panties, either. Going commando is stranger than just being naked.
Okay. I’m dressed. This is it. Hadrian looks me up and down, then launches into what sounds like a prepared speech.
“Rules of the Compound. You address me as Master, of course, but all the other Brothers you meet, you address as sir. All the women you meet are Wards. No other women are allowed in the Compound. Don’t bring up the subject of captivity with them unless they broach it with you first. It’s considered rude.”
Rude? That makes literally no sense, but I don’t let myself pounce on it. I’m going outside. Focus on that.
But then his words click into place. Only Wards are allowed in the Compound? The mystery woman who spoke to me said she wasn’t a captive. Maybe she’s so brainwashed by the cult she thinks she’s here voluntarily. Still, though. It’s weird.
But it’s also a puzzle for another day. I keep my voice extra polite. “I understand.”
“You might see some interesting sights. Try not to stare.”
Like what? Public executions? Orgies? What constitutes “interesting” to the new Hadrian? I have no idea.
