If he’s bothered by my dirty look, though, Morpheus doesn’t show it. In fact, he leads me through the house with a smile on his face. It becomes quickly apparent that the reason for his insistence on introducing me to his new staff is because he’s replaced them all. The housekeeper, the maids, the chef, even the on-site gardener and maintenance man—they’re all new faces.
Anxious thoughts creep into the back of my mind as he takes me through them all and introduces me with an arm around my waist. An hour has passed by the time we’ve finished and he directs me up to the third and final floor.
“I’ve kept your old room ready for you,” Morpheus says lightly as he approaches a white door with elaborate trim and opens it with a flourish. “As you know, my room is right down the hall should you need anything.”
I say nothing as I enter the room and glance around at the furnishings. A four-poster bed takes up a large portion of the space. In matching style, there’s also a wardrobe, twin nightstands, a vanity, and settees at both windows along either side of the bed and at the footboard.
“I’m tired,” I say, repeating what I’d said earlier and praying he’ll take the fucking hint.
He doesn’t.
“I’ve also ordered enough clothes for you to want for nothing,” Morpheus says, ignoring my statement as he marches towards the wardrobe and opens one side. A full mirror on theinside of the door reflects the pallor of my face and the still swollen skin of my eyes. I turn away and head for the bed, kicking off my shoes as I go.
“Juliet.” I freeze as I reach the side of the mattress.
The creak of the wardrobe door snicking shut makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. There’s no sound, but I don’t need creaking floorboards to know that he’s approaching. Every step closer makes my heartbeat increase as that ancient need to fight or flee threatens to take control.
My breathing comes faster, stopping altogether when a familiar hand touches the side of my throat. I go still as Morpheus lifts one strand of my blue hair and slides it between his thumb and forefinger.
“I shall have someone come in to help get the rest of this out,” he says. “The blue is beautiful, but your natural beauty is a gem one must always polish to perfection to keep it pristine.”
My control snaps. “No.” Turning, I jerk my hair out of his grip and tip my chin up. “I don’t want to change my hair.”
Standing before me, his hand still raised, Morpheus frowns. “Well, I suppose if it’s that important to you…” He slowly lowers his arm, his gaze locked on mine. “Though, I’m sure you understand I’ll need something from you to prove that you’re not going to take advantage of my hospitality.”
Shoulders stiffening, I try to take a step away from him, but my legs back into the side of the bed. “Proof?” I narrow my eyes on him, suspiciously. “What kind of proof?”
The corner of his lips tips up once more and his hand comes up, flipping so that his knuckles brush down the side of my face. The gentleness of the movement belies his intentions. I remain still, glaring up at him, unwilling to break eye contact. My skin crawls.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He leans down and before I realize his intentions, Morpheus brushes his lips softlyover mine. I reel back, but he’s already lifting back up and turning away.
My lips part in shock.Had he really just…?
“I’ll leave you to get settled,” Morpheus says. “Don’t concern yourself with school for the time being. I’ve informed Principal Long that you’ll be shifting to online for the foreseeable future. Just focus on getting comfortable and settling back where you belong.”
Disgust and horror crawl through me. “You…what?” I whirl towards him as he reaches the door.
As it opens, a sight I hadn’t expected greets me. Two men, dressed head to toe in black with vests and guns strapped to their sides, are in the hall beyond. Their backs to the opposite wall and their faces impassive masks of indifference, I realize just how different this time really will be.
Before, my mother had been here with me. Before, I hadn’t been blackmailed into these walls. Before… I’d been ignorant of his intentions.
The truth means my eyes are open to everything.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, darling,” Morpheus says, smiling back at me as he greets the men with the slightest nod of his head. “Good night, dear.”
The door closes and I’m left alone. Truly fucking alone.
I bolt for the attached bathroom. My hand smacks the light switch on the wall and the bulbs haven’t even fully illuminated before my knees are hitting the cold tiled floors and I’m hunching over the toilet. My stomach cramps as bile rushes up my throat. I vomit, heaving into the porcelain bowl over and over again until my muscles ache and my forehead is dotted with sweat.
Tears form at the corners of my eyes, forced there as I breathe shallowly. In and out. In and out. I squeeze my eyes shut and sit back as the horribly sick sensation eases.
It takes several minutes for me to crawl back to my feet. When I do, I flush the reminder of my actions down the drain and hit the sink. I scrub my face and lips until they’re raw.
Then, and only then, do I return to the room.
My hands curl into fists. Everything inside is soft and white, a room meant for a princess—pure and perfect. I want to rip the curtains from their rods, punch holes in the walls, and shatter each poster that holds the bed up.
Did you think I was going to be happy being passed between the three of you?
