Page 126 of Depravity

I don’t sleep. I can barely eat.

All I can think about is that they have her, they have my Brynn.

Are they hurting her? Are they torturing her? Do they think she knows something about Magnus?

Why would they have taken her? Surely, Liliana was the better one to take?

Giselle gave me nothing of worth. Even the servants gave me nothing. Did it ease my temper to torture them, yes. But it was also a monumental waste of my time.

On the table, my phone buzzes and I glance at the message, seeing more of the same bullshit. We’ve locked down Oblivion.It’s not shut, but we’ve made sure there won’t be any surprises there.

I’ve had to put provisions in place for Paitlyn too, I can only imagine what the Esau would do if they knew about her.

I feel like I’m spending my time protecting them. My brother’s, my family name, and all the while, it feels like the one thing that matters to me most slips further from my grasp.

Brynn.

I have to get her back.

I have to.

He comes to see me every day.

Each time, it’s after Xavier has fucked me.

He stands there at the end of the bed, staring at where the evidence of what his friend has done is leaking out of me.

I was embarrassed, I was shamed. Now, after what I figure has been weeks of this, I feel nothing.

Of course, part of that is because of what Conrad did. But now I’m realising that my body is so broken, my mind is so fractured that nothing matters anymore.

Today when he walks in, he’s wearing a long black robe. He looks different. More oppressive. More like a member of the Brethren.

He rubs some lotion into that new wound where my brand was. He takes his time, ensuring every last bit has soaked into my skin, and all the while he’s telling me what a good girl I’ve been, and that he’s finally proud of me.

But I’m not proud of me.

I’m breaking the rules. Despite what he says, I know Conrad is my husband.

And I know that he’s going to be so angry with me.

My father leans in, brushing my dirty hair back from my sweaty face. “Would you like a reward?” He asks, like he’s offering a piece of candy.

Mmm candy. I like candy.

I nod just a little.

His lips curl, and he jabs something into my neck so quickly I barely feel it. “Ssssh,” He soothes, “It’ll help you to relax,”

Relax. How can I relax when I’m all tied up?

Maybe he can read my thoughts because he starts undoing the bindings, letting my body slump into him.

“I’ve got a nice bath ready for you,” He says.

A bath? God, I’d kill for one of those. I haven’t properly washed in what feels like so long. My body is dirty, disgusting. Like it’s covered in handprints, fingerprints.

He carries me through, and I can see it, I can see the bubbles and the steam.

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