The words painted a horrifying picture in my mind, my body that has already been broken, being ripped apart, limb from limb, a slow, agonizing death, far worse than anything I could imagine. The thought of begging for mercy, for a quick end, for a swift release, was more terrifying than death itself. It was then, in that moment, leaning on Gwen, feeling the coldness of the floor beneath my feet, the dull ache in my body, that the awful truth settled deep in my gut, a heavy, crushing weight.
Definitely, I had been bought as a sort of plaything for the ruthless Kade. Not just a servant, not just a worker, not just a body to be used once and forgotten, but a thing to be used, abused, and discarded, over and over. The realization was a heavy stone in my chest, crushing what little hope I
