Xavier

Assault

Violence is just a part of daily life at the Oscillius estate.

There’s the Purebloods who sit at the top of the natural hierarchy, controlling everything. Then there’s the elves who really just work as scribes for them, hired teachers, and outsourcers. Then there’s the shifters. Kept mostly as pets, used within various fighting rings—I’m not sure that their lives are any better than the humans who are, by all rights, the bottom feeders of the food chain.

I’d seen creatures beaten, starved, humiliated.

I should be desensitized by cruelty.

It should be familiar to me.

I guess it’s different when the one being brutalized is you.

“Wait, please, you can’t touch a maid!”

But he was.

Without permission, without fear of punishment.

It was painful, his hands raking over my body, grabbing, tearing at my clothing.

Helplessly, I desperately clutched the back of my neck, praying he’d be sensible enough not to bite me. I flinched as his hand yanked the back of my shirt down, teeth grazing my fingers.

He bit my knuckle and I flinched, still rambling on even as hope dissipated into terror.

Would he make me his bed slave?

Ruin me?

Revulsion tore through me, bile rising in my throat.

“King Oscillius forbade it!”

The desperate shrieks came through broken sobs.

I just kept crying, trying to explain that this was wrong, that I was a maid, that he had to let me go. His hands were big, his body feeling like something akin to a tank as he held me down. He was an immoveable object and I was being crushed to death.

The pain was disorienting.

I could taste my own blood, pooling on the floor by my cheek, gushing from my nose. Or was it my mouth? Everything was a haze of adrenaline and horror.

I had resisted.

He’d slapped me.

He didn’t have to hit me.

He could just command this. Force me without lifting a finger.

But that’s not what he liked. There was no enjoyment in that for him.

Beg, he’d said.

Cry.

All I could do as his hand gripped mine, forcing it to the wood floor was cry.

His grip was crushing, his nose at my nape.

“Please stop—please—”

And then, he did.

As abruptly as he’d pushed me down, he stopped.

Feeling him pull away from me, standing over my hunched form, I just lay on the hardwood floor staring up through the tears blurring my vision to find King Cortez Oscillius standing over us. Shorter than his son, almost stout, he pointed at me, stating, “Clean that up.”

Other maids, ones I’d seen in passing, began lifting me to my unsteady feet, half carrying me away from the scene. Going vertical made me dizzy and, drowsily, I felt the warm droplets of fluid landing on my legs as I was forced to walk forward, toward the boarding house.

Was it my tears or blood?

“You’re lucky,” one of the women helping me whispered.

“Could’ve been a lot worse,” the other agreed.

Lucky.

Drowsy from the assault, I just kept my head bowed, remaining silent.

How could this situation be considered lucky?

. . .

“I told you to stay away from him.”

Aurelia had arrived almost immediately, eyes flashing a dangerous silver. She looked outrage.

I gave a slight nod, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t my fault and she knew it. Still, as a mere human, I was certain I would have to take the blame.

They would say I seduced the Prince.

That I had instigated everything.

“I told my father that if any harm comes to you, our deal is off.”

Their deal.

The engagement to Cronan Thanisius.

Was she really blackmailing the King into protecting me?

“He will deal with Ricco. You will be quarantined in my absence.”

There was something in Aurelia’s eyes, something uncommon for her kind: Pity.

I dropped my gaze from her, glaring down at my bandaged hand.

She was leaving me all alone in a den of monsters.

“After this whole marriage deal is finalized, I’ll come back for you.”

Crumpling the blanket in my lap, I felt tears start falling from my eyes. A light trickle at first, then a steady stream. Aurelia hesitated for a moment before rising from my bedside, leaving without so much as a backwards glance.

I had heard similar words before.

A promise to come back.

To take me away from this place.

I hadn’t heard from him in over a week now.

Wiping at my cheeks, I grimaced at the sound of approaching footfalls. I recognized the huff of a very familiar human with nothing but adoration for the Royalty and distaste for any of the humans falling within their rule. “Fix your face and get up.” Sniffling, my nose and lip felt swollen, my body bruised—and still I rose from the bed, standing straight enough, careful to keep my eyes down, away from Turk. If you didn’t treat him with the same respect as the vampires, he would do everything in his power to make your life harder. I had seen other maids learn that the hard way. With a tsk, the man stood closer to me, over me. His presence was nothing compared to Ricco’s, more bearable but probably just as threatening. “It’s your fault for looking the way you do.”

There it was.

Blame.

The vampires were awful but it was because they didn’t feel emotions the way we do, they can’t empathize with a lesser being. They dominate. They devour. It’s in their nature.

What excuse does a human have to lack empathy?

And worse, to idolize cruelty?

“Your little trick to seduce the Prince didn’t work, of course. King Oscillius made it clear that you’re not fit to be a bed slave to his son.” His tone was degrading, mocking, and the accusation in his words stung. Here I was bandaged and bruised from my last assault and here he was mercilessly throwing verbal jabs. “You can only ever amount to a sad old maid.”

I wanted to defend myself.

I wanted to tell him to go to hell.

Both would likely lead to more abuse.

Gritting my teeth, my jaw ached, and I choked on my silence.

With a snide snort, the sorry excuse of a man struggled to deepen his voice, snapping, “Hurry along. We don’t have all day.”