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Hooking my thumb under them, I begin pushing them down. Once I get them over my hips and bottom, they slide off on their own, bunching at my feet, leaving me in my lavender thong. Before I can reach to take them off next, his blade moves to just above the fabric covering my last bit of dignity. Goosebumps begin to rise all over my skin as my eyes watch the tip trace my skin, taunting me. My eyes look away, I can’t watch this.
I can feel the blade move down my hip and my body tenses, preparing for the inevitable. Just as it does so, he brings the blade up and slices it through the fabric. He then moves to the other side and does the same.
I want to cover myself with my hands, but I won’t give in. I won’t let them get the satisfaction of thinking I am embarrassed or ashamed. I’m not, I love myself and who I am. But they do not deserve to see me this way. He is a monster.
He grabs hold of my chin, forcing me to look up at him and asks, “Are you still intact?”
The question is puzzling, what does he mean intact? He must notice my confusion as he drops the blade to the ground and cups my pussy, repeating himself, “Are you still intact?”
I am mortified as my head shakes no in response.
Still cupping me, “Shame. Just like your mother. You won’t be like her though, soon you will rule next to me. You have been given to me by the Dark One.”
My eyes widen, and I react without thinking and spit on him out of disgust, “I will never. I would rather die.” I declare, my voice is seething with rage.
He removes both his hands from my body, and within a blink of an eye, the back of his hand connects with my cheek. The force knocks me to the ground, and my dirty hair hangs over my face as I absorb what just happened. My eyes want to cry, but I won’t let them. I will fight through this.
“Now get up and cleanse yourself. Wash away what remains of your mother and your tainted past. You will come out of the tub cleansed of it all and ready for the taking.” He instructs.
I swallow, biting my tongue I want to scream. Fear is radiating inside of me but I listen, not wanting to make things worse. My feet move, one step at a time against the earth. I zone out the few followers surrounding the area, if I can’t see them then they are not here watching me in my most vulnerable state.
Stepping over the ledge of the copper tub, I test the water with my toes, it is lukewarm so I lower the rest of my leg in and do the same with my other one. Placing both hands on either side for support, I lower myself down. Relief washes over me, this is exactly what I needed. As I am fully seated in the tub, I begin washing myself and the water turns red. Before I can move to my face and hair, I feel something cold on the top of my head followed by a set of hands, massaging it into my hair. It’s him. My father. His scent is strong and musky. As uncomfortable as this is, it feels amazing so I don’t move, instead letting him continue. Moments pass before his hands are off of me. I submerge myself under the water, using my own hands to rinse out the suds and wash my face.
Placing my hands back on the ledge, I rise. My hair is slicked back behind me as I open my eyes and gasp for air. I’m taken aback as I notice the followers have moved closer; they are surrounding me. My eyes take them in, none of them move or speak.
“Tomorrow you become ours, Principessa Oscura. Tomorrow, you will be prepared for the taking. Until then, you will remain in your cell. Now get up, dry off and change.”
Nodding my head, I agree.
“Everyone out. Now!” My father demands of his followers. They obey without question, scurrying out of the room in single file.
“And after the taking, you will become my wife.”
Chapter 9
Rain
Wearing a black silk dress with thin straps over my shoulders, a plunging neckline and a high slit in the front that nearly exposes me. It has a slight train at the back, and a black upside down cross necklace around my neck and hanging between my breasts. My hair is down, and my feet remain bare as I walk into the main room.
It’s just how it was the first night. All the followers are here, candles are lit and as I look over to the front, my father is standing there. My handler pushes me forward as we make our way through the crowd until we reach the table and stop just before it.
“Tonight we welcome Principessa Oscura to The Chapel, officially. Once the evening commences, she will be standing by my side as my new wife, in the name of the Dark One.”
The room erupts, and they all chant back to him, “In the name of the Dark One.”
A chill runs over me, not because I am impressed and moved by this performance and loyalty, it’s because I am fucking terrified with no way out.
My father walks down the steps from where he is standing and walks to face me on the opposite side of the table.
“On the table,” he insists. Accepting defeat, I do what he asks and pull myself onto the long wooden table, and lay in the same spot my mother did. Briefly, I hope I will feel her, considering this is where she had taken her last breath, but I don’t. I feel nothing.
“Member Conrad, come forward. It is time to give her wings.”
This is the first time I have heard a name being used. And wings? What is he talking about?
A hand wraps around my right wrist, holding it down so I can’t move my arm. I wait for the same to happen to the rest of my limbs, but it doesn’t. Instead, I hear a buzzing sound filling the quiet space. Glancing over, it’s a tattoo machine.
I’m getting my bat wings.
