Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
They led her through marble corridors that echoed with her footsteps, down into the bowels of the compound where the Midnight Sanctuary waited. Even before she entered, she heard male voices, glasses clinking, and laughter mingled with anticipation—a celebration of the horror to come. The air grew thick with expensive cologne, testosterone, and lust.
Other women huddled backstage, identical in their red cloaks and gold masks. Through the heavy curtain, Haisley glimpsed the massive room beyond. Ornate chandeliers cast sinister shadows across a sea of tuxedos and masks. A huge bed dominated the stage, its black silk sheets a promise of the violation to come.
One by one, the other women disappeared beyond the curtain. Each “claiming” followed the same pattern: Gray’s silky introduction, approving murmurs from the crowd, then sounds that made Haisley’s skin crawl. Silk tearing. Commands in various languages. Flesh on flesh. Pleas and screams, eventually followed by broken sobs. Then…applause for each “performance,” as if they were at some perverse theater.
A familiar voice rang out. “And now, gentlemen, our virgin offering.”
Haisley’s heart stopped. Kaylee. The petite brunette trembled so hard she could barely walk as she was thrust between the curtains, onto the stage, and out of Haisley’s sight. Applause and whistles erupted.
“She’s pure. Untouched. Ready to be molded to her master’s will. Mr. Fischer, come do the honors.”
Through the curtain, she heard a man’s commanding voice—oddly familiar, though she couldn’t place it. “Very nice. I’ll enjoy breaking you in, pet.”
Kaylee’s terrified whimper made Haisley’s stomach twist. Then she heard the squeak of the mattress, followed by the all-too-common sound of silk tearing. Eerie quiet descended. From her position backstage, she shifted the velvet drape, hoping to catch a glimpse of the poor, innocent girl being somehow taken gently or spared altogether.
But no.
Her “owner” had her on her back, dress ripped. He’d mounted her with his long teal cape spread out around them, covering the details. But Haisley didn’t need to see everything. Kaylee shrieked, then screamed in pain while he pinned her wrists to the mattress above her head, buried his head in her neck, and thrust enthusiastically, as if he were banging her at the same pace he would a drum.
Haisley hurt for the girl, having the last shred of her innocence stripped from her in such a horrifying way. What would become of her now that the monster on top of her had taken the one thing she had to give a man she loved?
“Stop peeking. Get back.” A guard yanked her by the hood of her cloak and shoved her to the center of the backstage area, leaving Haisley to nibble on a nail and wonder what would happen to any of them.
The dancer went last before her, her shrieks cracking until they became cries that echoed in Haisley’s bones. The sounds weren’t pain, but something worse. Pleasure forced from her unwilling body. A hoarse cry followed by sobs.
Then she was the last one backstage, trembling alone in her crimson cloak.
“Our final offering of the night.” Mr. Gray’s voice rang out, smooth as poison honey. “Lot twenty-three. Pure fire and defiance waiting to be tamed. Come claim your prize, Mr. King.”
From behind, someone shoved her between the heavy velvet drapes. Mr. Gray grabbed her wrist, tore away her mask, and pushed her under a lone spotlight. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the glare, horror mounting as she found hundreds of male gazes fixed on her. Leers and catcalls followed, along with hungry stares that stripped away what little her silk slip concealed.
She wanted to shrink away. To close her eyes and transport herself back home to any other lazy Sunday full of crosswords followed by a spicy romance novel with her sleeping cat curled in the crook of her knees.
Instead, the smell of sweat and sex blended with bright lights to remind her that there was no escape.
And she was now the main event.
Heavy footsteps mounted the stage. With a gasp and a thundering heart, she turned. A man in a teal cloak approached, his silver mask catching the stage lights. He moved with lethal grace, impossibly tall, his presence filling the space between them as his gaze raked over her. Even through the mask, she felt his heat, his focus. His intent to have her.
“Isn’t she lovely?” Gray asked, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let the breeding begin.”
The audience erupted in applause as guards stripped away her cloak, leaving her in nothing but a scrap of silk that revealed more than it concealed. Her “buyer” reached for his own disguise with steady hands.
His silver mask fell away. Haisley’s lungs seized, her vision tunneling until all she could see was his face. The room dissolved around her as reality splintered and reformed.
Nash.
Her pulse roared in her ears as hope and terror warred in her chest. She couldn’t read his expression—not with so many predatory gazes fixed on them and every muscle in her body trembling.