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Neveah cleans all day, and I never get tired of watching her. I am fascinated by everything she does. By every movement she makes.
Sometimes I let her see me. I need to remind her that I am with her all the time. All the time. All the time.
She needs to know that she can never get away from me. I’ll follow her to the ends of Protheka. Whether she wants me to or not.
The sun is sinking in the sky when my brother appears.
I followed Neveah to the large kitchens of the main mansion, and I linger outside the door which leads outside when I hear footsteps.
My chest tightens with anger that someone is interrupting my time with Neveah, and my hands ball into fists when I hear my brother’s voice.
I move closer to the door so that I can see their interaction. I want to examine every movement they make together.
Does she want him? She can’t want him, she wants me.
He will never have her!
I listen as my brother offers Neveah books and I lean down to pull a knife out of my boot.
I twirl the blade between my fingers, to ensure that it is sharp enough to pierce through Rhiucra’s throat.
Just rip him apart with your hands.
I shudder slightly at the thought of the mess that would make, but my brother deserves it for talking with Neveah when he has no right to.
I want to burn him. I want to cut his eyes out.
And I want to cut her for even entertaining him. How dare she! How dare she talk to him when she knows that I am always here?
Neveah needs a punishment.
I distract myself from killing my brother by focusing on images of Neveah, spread out beneath me while I slap her ass with a metal paddle.
I slap her until her skin breaks and her entire body is red, inflamed with pain and desire.
But then my attention is dragged back to reality, and I can hear my brother’s heated voice arguing that I do not exist.
I almost roll my eyes at his naivete – surely, he must know that there is a reason that Neveah is asking about me.
I already have her brother. You’ll never have her. But I already do.
The conversation ends, and I follow Neveah again.
She continues to clean, and I cannot help but frown at the amount of work she is doing.
She needs to work less so that I can have more of her.
I focus on more images of Neveah and myself as I wait for her to finish cleaning.
Images of her on her knees with a collar and leash around her throat. Images of her, tied to a bed.
Images of myself with my knives in hand and her begging for me to cut her.
In these images, these visions, I always oblige.
When she is done for the day, she heads to her bedroom. I watch her walk into her bedroom and close her door.
I am out of sight when I see Rhiucra. He stands at the end of the passageway, looking longingly at Neveah’s door.
