I wasn’t sure if it was the weight on the bed or just knowing that Alec was sitting beside me that woke me from my slumber. It had been the first that I had really slept since arriving at the mansion. But in Alec’s arms, I had actually felt safe enough to sleep. An insane fact considering I was being held captive as a sex slave by a secret society. But as I opened my eyes to see Alec looking down on me, I oddly felt calm and at peace with the dark tunnel I would have to travel through to get to the other side.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up. I had fallen asleep almost instantly when Alec had tucked me into bed.

“Today isn’t going to be easy,” he said softly. “Are you hungry? Would you like something more to eat than just that apple before we go to the ballroom?”

I shook my head. My stomach instantly constricted with the thought of the ballroom. “Thank you, but no.”

He stood up and walked to a collar and chain that rested on the table. “Go use the bathroom and then come out here. We are all supposed to be in the ballroom soon. I have to put this on you.” He said the last sentence with such disgust.

I did as he asked and returned to the room and stood before him. I was naked, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. I would clearly be naked for the entire ritual and had already come to terms with the fact that modesty would only make this worse. The sooner I got used to my nudity, the better. This was my new reality. Acceptance was my only hope of not completely losing my mind.

Alec didn’t say anything but simply snapped the metal around my neck. He grabbed the handle of the chain that hung from the collar and led me out of the room.

I could hear screams and cries as we walked down the hallway. Some other Masters and their slaves exited their rooms. Some of the slaves were able to walk as I did, and others had to crawl on their already destroyed hands and knees. I saw bloody lash marks on some women, battered faces, and bruises up and down their bodies. Comparing myself to them, I realized that my evening was heaven compared to how theirs had been.

“Those poor women,” I whispered as we walked. “Those assholes beat their slaves.”

He nodded but stared ahead.

* * *

As we walked into the ballroom, the fucking of my brain only got worse. I knew what the ritual was. How fucked up this was going to be on Makayla, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to get her out of this unscathed. The only possibility was to just hope she could endure so we could leave with our lives.

A nice and tidy row of dildos sat lined up on a bench. I knew they were all bolted down since I had helped carry in the piece of shit contraption into the ballroom years and years ago. Had I known then that I would be looking at the dildo bench with disgust for what they were about to do to someone I loved... Each girl would be required to sit down, force that large fake cock up her ass, and sit like that for the rest of the ritual.

My stomach twisted to the point of near pain.

I looked at Makayla and could see that she knew what that bench of plastic dicks was for. She knew and yet she kept walking forward. She didn’t scream. She didn’t try to flee. She didn’t look at me and beg for help. No. Not Makayla.

She only marched forward to accept her fucked up fate.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hating that I was so damn weak and couldn’t force our way out of here. I knew I maybe could… but then Rhett would die for sure and Makayla would never forgive me.

As we approached the bench, she looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “Am I to sit on this?”

I nodded.

Others entered the room, and the cries and screams began. Masters began forcing their slaves onto the bench. Howls of pain and fear bounced off the walls and threatened to shatter the stained-glass windows.

“Go slow,” I whispered, trying to block out all the misery around me. “You took this size last night. You can do it.”

She continued to stare at me as if she needed my gaze to give her strength. She too seemed to be blocking out all the chaos all around. She reached out her hands so I could steady her and give her balance as she eased herself down on the dildo.

“Stop,” I said. “Put the cock in your pussy first. Get it slick with your juices. It will help ease it in your ass.”

She paused—her eyes so fucking wide and beautiful—but then shifted her weight to do just that.

Was I really going to let her sit on this cruel sexual torture device? I couldn’t!

I couldn’t!

I was not a monster! I wasn’t a weak piece of shit, pathetic monster who would do nothing and allow this any longer. I had to do something.

I needed to die before I let this happen. She wouldn’t fight. She wouldn’t beg, not that it would do any good. So, she needed me.

I needed to fight for Makayla!

“Stop!” I said again, with enough force to startle her. I would throw myself down on a sword before I let her pierce a part of her soul by such an evil sexually deviant creation.

“What?” she whispered, confusion in those eyes that were somehow slowly melting all the twisted roots that had been surrounding my heart. Twisted roots that no one had been able to penetrate before. Twisted roots that were meant to keep out any humanity, any goodness, and any chance of love. Her innocent and broken-soul eyes slashed at those roots like a mighty dagger.

“I’m going to put my hands around your neck,” I whispered into her ear, making it look as if I was threatening her. “I want you to struggle, gasp, and do whatever you can to make it appear like I am strangling you. You have to make it believable. If you don’t, we both die.”

She nodded, but never said a word.

Standing to my full height, I put my arms around her collared neck and nodded for her to begin. She let out a scream, then a gasp, some gagging, and allowed the tears to fall. She clawed at my hands. She writhed in fake pain. She acted like she was having the last breath stolen from her.

“You will never say those words to me!” I boomed in my most menacing voice. “You are nothing but a worthless slave. Replaceable. You mean nothing! And I am going to show these slaves all around you what happens to women who dare call their Masters names!”

She continued to struggle as I threw her down on the ground.

You will kneel at my knees until I say otherwise!” I said, hoping my dictate would be accepted by all.

I glared at all the women who had stopped fighting out of fear. They had just watched one of their own be nearly strangled right before their eyes. I hated that this act forced them all to give up their fight and submit to the awful act of sitting on the dildo, but I couldn’t save them all. I could only save Makayla. It was all I could do… for now.

I looked at one man and then another. “This pet of mine will rest at my feet where she belongs.” I turned toward the terrified slaves. “The rest of the Masters will do the same if you all don’t fucking listen to them. They are your Masters!” My booming voice resonated across the room, and I knew I had scared them all, which was my desired effect.

With my heart beating harder than it ever had, and Makayla’s submissive body kneeling under me, I walked to the far corner of the room tugging her harshly behind me. When I realized no one was stopping me, and no one was suspicious in the slightest, I kept walking until Makayla and I would be out of the direct line of sight of everyone. With long, confident strides, I marched like a man of power to the beat of my own destiny. No one even raised one eyebrow at my real intent to keep Makayla from being anally impaled like the others.

Or so I thought.

Two brotherhood members walked up to me and said, “She needs to be on the bench with all the others. Beat her, or do what you want later. But the ritual is about to start and we need her seated.”

My gut tightened and it took everything inside of me not to just beat the shit out of the men looking at me, but I also knew that if I made a scene, I was putting Makayla at risk. I could be booted out of the mansion and who knew what would happen to Makayla and who she would be assigned to.

No.

If she had to go through the ritual, then it had to at least be with me. As awful as this would be, at least it would be with me.

Lifting her up and guiding her back to the bench, I whispered, “I’m sorry. Understand I am doing what I have to do.”

“I know,” she answered lightly. “I trust you.”