The door to the mirror room clicks shut behind me, sealing me in a chamber of infinite reflections—walls, ceiling, floor, all lined with flawless glass that multiplies my naked body into an endless labyrinth of flesh. I'm trembling, still sore from the forest hunt, Elias's c*m dried on my inner thighs like a brand.
The air is thick with the scent of polished metal and faint incense, and the only light comes from dim sconces that cast my shadows in every direction. I see myself everywhere: the red welts on my ass from the strap, the bite marks on my breasts from the pack's greedy hands, my p***y swollen and glistening despite—or because of—the fear churning in my gut.
Elias enters through a hidden panel, mask in place, carrying a velvet tray of toys that glint ominously.
"Night three,"
