Page 61 of The Dancer and the Masks (Their Obsession 1)

Nothing remains silent. Her body isn’t tense, it’s relaxed. Her eyes stare off into the distance, not hollow, just serene. It’s eerie.

Leon’s fingers tighten around the stem of his wine glass. “Again!”

I jerk my chin. Konrad brings the leash down onto her arse once more.

Thwack!

Around us One’s haunting music rebounds off the high ceiling and walls, the notes building into a crescendo. The combination of Nothing’s star-spattered arse—reddened now by the lashes— and One’s music is, admittedly, more than a little intoxicating. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt even the slightest attraction to a woman, and it’s not a feeling that sits well with me. Attraction is dangerous. It can lead to the kind of emotion that can make a man weak.

I’m not a weak man, and neither are my brothers.

“Again,” I say, punishing her for more than her refusal to obey. We’re punishing her for being sostrong.

Konrad whips her twice more until five deep-red slashes mark her arse, obliterating the stars beneath burning comets. Nothing doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t even move.

Nothing gives usnothing, whilst at the same time telling us everything.

This woman is something else, somethingmore.

When the Numbers begin to enter the room, I don’t even notice them.

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