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Images of Mollie with Roland down below. Peter with that brown-bearded guy, and all the other jewels currently serving out monsters’ fantasies.
All of us existed in different nightmares.
The new jewels would be petrified.
Their arms sore from injections and blood tests. Their entire souls screaming that there had to have been some mistake.
I locked onto their misery instead of mine.
The empathy for them threatened to cripple me, but I would be strong for them.
I had to be strong for them.
Whatever they went through downstairs was far worse than this.
This was just sex.
Victor wouldn’t hit me, strike me, or hurt me.
A simple transaction of bodily fluids, and it would all be over.
It’s fine.
I can do this.
You knew this would happen one day…
My teeth chattered as I pictured him inside me. My insides revolted at the thought of him ejaculating—
Oh God.
Swallowing hard, I met Henri’s gaze, and something happened.
Something unexplainable and mystifying.
The world fell away as I sank into his hurting silver stare.
I didn’t feel Victor’s touch. Didn’t sense Rachel’s warmth against my leg.
Just him.
And in some puzzling, incomprehensible heartbeat, I felt him.
I’m sorry. His eyes screamed.
I can’t stop this. His entire soul howled.
For the first time since we met, I saw him. Felt him. Heard him.
God, did I hear him.
His anguish.
His heartbreak.
His horror.
How had I not heard him up till now? How had I not seen behind his mask and mirrors and found the missing piece of…me?
