Chapter 4 HER QUIET SURRENDER
“Come, my child.”
It was gentle. Too gentle for a place like this. In a world that had done nothing but tear things from me since nightfall, kindness felt like a trap. I hesitated at the doorway, my feet rooted to the cold stone floor, my heart beating like it wanted to escape my chest.
She noticed.
“Be careful,” she added softly, glancing back as she led me into the room. “The floors are slippery.”
The room smelled of warm water and herbs. Steam rose from a wide porcelain tub at the center, curling into the air like quiet ghosts. The light was low, golden, nothing like the harsh torches of the Sanctuary. For a moment, I forgot where I was.
She turned to me.
“You must have been through a lot.”
That was all it took.
My knees weakened. Everything I had been holding back since Liam’s body hit the floor, since the bells rang, since the Widow Mark burned into my skin, finally spilled out of me. Tears streamed down my face, hot and unstoppable.
“Oh… don’t cry,” she said quickly, stepping forward.
She hesitated before touching me, as if unsure whether she was allowed. Then she wrapped her arms around me lightly, carefully, like I might shatter if she held me too tightly.
I collapsed into her.
For a heartbeat, I let myself pretend this was a dream. That I would wake up in my old bed. That Liam would be alive. That I wasn’t branded, owned, sold.
My sobs soaked into her shirt, leaving a dark, ugly stain. I didn’t care.
“It’s fine,” she murmured, stroking my back. “You’ll be fine. Just… listen to me.”
Her voice lowered.
“Do not go against him. Against his rules. You must accept all the pain, all the suffering, all the humiliation, and tread carefully. Only that way will you survive in this house.”
I nodded against her chest, even though every word felt like another nail sealing my coffin.
“Kane is brutal to people like you,” she continued, pulling back just enough to look at my face. Her eyes searched mine. “And I must ask you something.”
My breath hitched.
“Do you have a sister called Sally? Or are you in any way related to a woman named Sally?”
The name meant nothing to me.
“No, ma,” I whispered. “I’ve been with my foster grandmother for as long as I can remember.”
Her face tightened.
“Is that the ‘her’ he was talking about?” she muttered to herself.
“Who is she?” I asked.
She stiffened immediately.
“I’d advise you to stay calm and not try to know,” she said, her tone sharp now. “Some questions cost lives in this house.”
My throat closed.
“Has there been anyone like me before?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head.
“No. He has always been… stoic. There have been rumors about him for years, terrible ones. But never, never has he brought a mutate into this mansion.”
My head dropped.
“What is it?” she asked gently.
“Liam died,” I said, the words ripping through me all over again. “I pushed him. I didn’t mean to. He was cheating on me. We were married for one day. Just one.”
My voice broke.
“He was playing me.”
She exhaled slowly.
“I know,” she said. “I learned of it already.”
I looked up, startled.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she added firmly. “Grief makes monsters of men. And sometimes… it kills them.”
She cupped my face.
“You are still alive. That means something.”
I didn’t feel alive. I felt like something waiting to be used.
“Come,” she said softly. “Let’s get you washed up.”
The words slipped out of me before I could stop them.
“I’m a virgin.”
My voice shook. Shame burned my cheeks.
She paused, then shook her head slowly.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing a small smile. “Everything will be fine.”
“Will he… will he sleep with me?” I whispered.
Her jaw tightened.
“Do not ask questions,” she said, guiding me toward the tub. “Questions have never saved anyone here.”
She helped me out of my torn clothes and into the warm water. I sank down, letting it cover my skin, my mark, my sins. For a moment, I closed my eyes and imagined it washing everything away.
Her hands were gentle as she cleaned me. Not rough like the women at the Sanctuary. Not careless. Almost… kind.
“Kane wouldn’t want your hair loose,” she said quietly. “Ever. It must always be tied in a ponytail. Never wear pink. Your clothes have been selected and placed in the cupboard.”
She paused, lowering her voice.
“Never wander to the other side of the mansion. You will die if you do.”
I opened my eyes.
“There is something precious to Kane there,” she continued. “You saw how he pulled the trigger when you arrived. Remember that. Stay calm. And anything he asks you to do…”
I swallowed.
“Do it?”
She met my gaze.
“Anything.”
When she was done, I dried myself and dressed in the plain underwear and simple gown laid out for me. No lace. No color. Just obedience sewn into fabric.
I stood there, hands trembling, waiting.
Waiting for the man who owned me now.
Waiting for my master.
