Page 44 of Her Blood Revenge

He sits back on the edge of the bath and faces me with a smug smirk.

‘Done. Tell me.’

I busy myself with the soap, rubbing it over my arms and fingers, cleaning off the dirt and blood, and being sure to avoid all eye contact with him.

‘You said you would answer me. I will use my mark if I must. I mean-’

‘Growing up,’ I start, cutting him off and speaking before I give myself a chance to stop. ‘Females were taught their place. What was expected of us. Keep quiet. Keep sweet. Satisfy.’

‘Satisfy?’

He takes my chin and makes me look at him when I remain silent. ‘Go on.’

‘Part of our education as females was… well… we needed to be prepared for the men of the coven and their expectations. Forwhat would happen on rite night and the nights after.’ I shudder as I think of it.

‘And they prepared you how exactly?’

‘We would watch.’

‘Watch?’

‘Yeah. We would watch the men with a female. She was pretty. The one I watched.’ I remember her well. All of her. ‘She had this copper hair that fell to her lower back and these real pretty green eyes. She must have been seventeen, if that.’ He scoops up some water and trickles it over my shoulders. He doesn’t push me to continue. His silence makes it easier to keep talking. ‘She tried to leave the coven the night before she was to add her blood to the fire. She attempted to run.’ I swallow dryly. ‘She didn’t get far. We never get far. Those stones surrounding our village kept us well and truly contained.’ I look up at him. ‘But we heard rumours as children, you know? If you soak yourself in salt water, you’ll pass through. Or if you eat a bowl of rotten apples and spin counter clockwise twenty times, you can get past the stones. A hundred rumours. A hundred lies. Some tried. All got caught. She was no different. The girl with the fire-coloured hair. They got her at the barrier and dragged her back. She refused to add her blood. So they put her to work teaching us instead.’

‘What did that look like?’ he asks calmly.

‘One of the males of the coven screwing her in ways he enjoyed as we watched.’

His hands slow again, and I feel him watching me. I rest my chin on my tucked-in knees and carry on.

‘I remember watching how the males were with her. They were so rough and aggressive. They didn’t give adamn what she wanted. They pounded into her relentlessly and hardly looked at her. She winced all the time as they pawed at her and used her. “You never say no. This is your job”. “Never complain. If it hurts, that’s okay”. And my personal favourite. “You’re not supposed to enjoy this”. She would bleed and cry, and we would sit there as they made her get in different positions. On her back. On top. On all fours. They would make us get close and watch him penetrate her, showing exactly what went where.’

‘How old were you when this was going on?’

‘The first time, I was eight. Nine, maybe. They teach us young, not just what is expected of us. But what we should expect if we said no.’

‘That… that is not okay.’

‘No shit.’ I rest my cheek on my knees and look at him. His face is easy to read. There’s a deep concern and disgust. It’s a comfort to see him feel that way. To know that I’m not the only one who saw how wrong it is. ‘I always remember how they would go harder the more she suffered. How when she cried, they would smile. How her discomfort spurred them on, and how they told us it was normal to be in pain. Once, she tried to touch herself, and they smacked her around the face so hard one of her teeth fell out. Sex seemed like a punishment for us and a sport for them. I’m convinced they brought in males that had a problem with her because there was just so much anger and hatred.’

‘Did they ever touch you?’ he asks through a clenched jaw. ‘The truth.’

‘No. I was being saved for Cole, remember?’

‘How could I forget.’

‘You took my virginity.’ I look back at him and smile. ‘You weregreat.’

And he was. He was skilled and made sure I got to where I needed to be. I felt safe. A strange idea now, I guess. After everything. He took my virginity, knowing I would end up in that circle of blood. That I may not end up with a soul.

I look away from him again, reminding myself that although I may be playing nice, he is not to be trusted. And neither am I.

He starts rinsing my hair. ‘Now tell me about the friends.’

‘That’s a third question.’

‘What do you want in return?’

‘An I. O. U.,’ I peer back at him. ‘When I make a request, you have to honour it.’

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