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A/N: Just wanted to give an advanced warning. Since this book is a slow-burn (too slow for some) I recommend reading it once there are more chapters available. Reading it slowly with each update makes it feel drawn out and slower than reading a full, completed book would since readers are fed little bits each week.

The chapters are also shorter in length since I am now regularly updating and not working on and adding to the same one for multiple weeks. I have recently decided that instead of breaking my originally planned chapters up so I can provide a shorter full chapter each time I update, I will keep the content I have planned in the planned chapters but will divide the updates into parts (most will be 2 of 3 parts). Nothing much will change, just don't worry if you see parts to chapters. Still the same amount if content, just better planning and structure for chapters :)

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Trigger warning: assault, sexual assault

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The ripped half of the picture stared back at me. The innocent smile on Jaxon's adolescent face seemed like a mockery now- taunting me with the mistake I had just made.

"I-"

Pain erupted at the back of my skull. Fingers tightened around my neck constricting my airway. I tried to find purchase on the floor, but my feet kicked blind, only hitting the shins of the man who held me by the throat, against a wall, in the air.

"You dumb bitch!" He roared in my face. I flinched as warm spit landed on my cheek from the force of the words. His fingers tightened. "You stupid, worthless, whore!"

His words hit a chord deep inside. One that was stuck each time a new individual labelled me with a variation of the same demeaning words. The labels that were drilled into my head. The labels that I foolishly tried to convince myself were not true.

But you could only convince yourself so many times before having the same words shouted by different people made you question if you were wrong.

"Who the fuck said you could touch my things?" His voice rang in my ears.

I clawed at the hand that was wrapped around my neck. What hurt more than the physical force was the burn building in my chest. My legs kicked at his shins, growing desperate with each second that passed. The pain pulsating at the back of my head didn't help with the spots that were beginning to form in my vision.

"I didn't expect much from you- no I didn't expect anything from you, yet you still managed to disappoint." He sneered; his face twisted with anger.

Unconsciousness approached fast. My vision tunnelled until all I could focus on was the dark eyes searing into me with disgust.

Just as everything was about to turn black, he dropped me.

I landed in a heap on the ground against the wall. My body felt weak. I couldn't keep myself upright, falling to the side. The impact with the floor jarred my already injured head.

"I-I'm so-sorry," I gasped out in choked sobs.

I breathed desperately. The air ached on its way in. But like all good things in life, it was cut off too soon.

I tried to push off the heavy booted foot that pressed into my neck, but it was futile. Like a rabbit trying to escape the constricting hold of a python.

Pathetic.

He leaned forwards, placing more pressure on my neck. It felt like it was moments away from snapping. I hadn't noticed him go for it, but the ripped half that I had dropped from my hand was now in his along with the other.

"What? Did you think you could find dirt on us? Flip the roles and take control?" He released a mocking laugh. It made fear harden my bones. "Should've been more careful," he spitefully smiled at me. "If you're going to be the conniving bitch I knew you were, you should have made sure not to get caught." He lifted the ripped pieces in his hands. "You destroyed my property. It's only fair that I destroy you in return."

I closed my eyes against his harsh, twisted features. His words sealed my fate. He didn't have to spell it out. I knew I didn't have long.

I waited for his foot to press down harder, to snap my neck or something. That's why when I felt it lift, I was shocked with surprise. It only lasted a moment though before I was curling in on my side as pain radiated from where he kicked me.

He crouched down in front of me.

His fingers brushed my hair away from my face with a deceptive, gentle touch. "But I like to play with my prey before I kill it. Watching the fear in its eyes, knowing it won't be able to escape." His fingers trailed down my tear-soaked cheek and down my neck before they wrapped around it again. He squeezed. "The power you feel holding the life of another in the palm of your hands. It's a euphoric rush." His hand let go before roaming over my skin and twisting in my hair.

He gripped it tightly as he stood. I was forced to follow him up from the floors and onto my knees.

"Since you are the desperate, manipulative whore I had you out to be, I think it's only fitting you properly show me how grateful you are for my mercy, slave." He began to unbuckle his pants with his free hand.

It left like a bucket of water was poured on me as I realized where this was going. Each time I escaped; another came to finish the job.

"P-please," I begged. "I'm s-sorry."

"Show me just how sorry you are." He pulled his zipper down before pulling out his cock. He stroked the hardened length in his hand.

My eyes widened as a new fear invaded my mind. His cock was large. The girth was the size of my forearm, the length more than I've had to handle before. Silver-gold metal glinted beneath the angry head of his cock- a frenum piercing.

I swallowed. The fear of being forced to do something I didn't want to was being replaced by the fear of the pain it would bring.

"P-please, don't do this." I grabbed at his hand in my hair, struggling to free myself from his hold in a last desperate attempt.

He tightened it painfully. "It's time you properly learn your place, slave."

His dark eyes darkened further. Holding his cock at the base, he stepped forward. The bead of pre-cum that was leaking from the tip smeared over my lips as he pressed the head against them.

"Open."

A detached coldness started to fill my mind. I welcomed it. Needed it.

But it wasn't enough.

After making it out of two other incidents unscathed, that stupid, deadly thing I knew as hope wouldn't go away. It screamed in my head. Its falsities promised that someone would stop this, that Zev would walk through that door and save me.

But that's all it was, false.

"Bite and I'll make you regret it."

I closed my eyes as he pressed the head past my lips forcefully. My lips stretched to encompass the warm head. My locked jaw ached from how wide his cock stretched it as he harshly thrust in, making me gag.

The harsh force and violation were not the worst part.

It was my own body.

Shame bloomed as a familiar warmth and wetness formed between my legs.

I was sick.

Twisted.

Demented.

What kind of woman got wet while being violated?

Without the numbness to save me- the safe place I had created in the back of my head- my body betrayed me in a way I was all too familiar with. I liked to think it reacted to protect me, after all, it only ever happened with him. He was the only one who discovered my safe place- the way I retreated into my head- and refused to let me go there.

The others didn't care as long as they got what they wanted.

But he did.

He lived for it.

Playing with me. Twisting my mind. Mingling pain with pleasure. Force and want.

He made me feel pleasure in his acts of violation. He made me want it. Conditioned me to link pain, humiliation, force, and possession with pleasure.

I was sick, twisted, and demented. I disgusted myself more than the violation that was being inflicted on me.

"Stop lying to yourself. Look how wet you are. You want this, crave this. Nothing gets you wetter, little whore," he whispered in my ear as he harshly thrust into me. "No one can make you as wet as me."

He was right.

The wet slapping sound that echoed in the room just confirmed it. The building tension in my abdomen damned me, threatening to tip over the edge and shatter me. It didn't care about the bruise that littered my body. It didn't care that the fingers digging into my sides hurt. It liked it. I was close- so close- but I couldn't get yet, I needed...

His hand tightened around my throat painfully, cutting off my air as his thrust became punishing- a bite of pain accompanying each jab of his hips.

It was what I needed to push me over the edge.

Pain was pleasure; pleasure was pain.

A heavy tear fell down my cheek and landed with a soft splat on the floor.

Jaxon stiffened, frozen with his cock halfway in my mouth.

When he didn't take and use my mouth like expected, I cracked open my eyes to see his glaring a hole into the floor in front of me.

"Fuck," he hissed, harshly removing himself from my mouth with a shove.

I fell back, the impact rattling my teeth. He continued to stare at the same spot as his hands curled into white-knuckled fists. I followed his gaze. It landed on the ripped half of the photo with the smiling face of the older man. My splattered tear gleamed on the dull surface.

"Get out."

I swallowed at the cold words, the salty taste of him in my mouth. The deadly calm, coldness was more frightening than his shouted obscenities.

I struggled to my feet, using the wall as support.

"Now."

I flinched at the icy tone that pierced my ears. I doubled my efforts to reach the door faster, abandoning the cleaning supplies. My desire to escape without further repercussions outweighed the fear of future punishments for forgotten supplies.

I glanced back over my shoulder as I left the room. Jaxon was kneeling on the floor, his fingers reverently caressing the ruined picture. It was the last glimpse I caught before running down the hall, heading straight to the cold, small room that provided me with some semblance of safety.

But I knew it was just an illusion conjured by a desperate mind.

There was no place in this manor that I was safe.

In the silence of my cold room, it became clear that included my mind.

I slid down the closed door and wrapped my arms around my legs, hugging them to my chest. My throat was sore, and my stomach ached where he had kicked me.

But that wasn't what hurt and devastated me the most.

I sobbed silently as the apex of my thighs pulsed. The thoughts running through my mind of what would have happened if he didn't stop made it intensify. Made the wetness grow.

I needed the numb, safe place.

Without it, I was a sick, twisted, and demented freak.

* * *

I woke the next morning dreading having to move. I swallowed past my sore throat, the sensation feeling like barbed wire as I lay still, putting off the inevitable.

I could still feel Jaxon's phantom touch. His phantom taste lingered in my mouth. His antagonistic eyes followed me into my hard-fought sleep. They flashed between light and dark gold, turning grey and sliver at times.

I shivered, the chilled air in the room was only partially responsible.

Sunlight streamed in from the small window. Birds were singing joyously, oblivious to the war that raged in the small room. Sometimes I wished I was a bird. Flying free in the sky.

But with my luck, I'd be one of the unlikely ones. The ones caged for their beauty.

My lips curved in self-deprecating amusement. Scratch that. My looks would save me from a life in a guided cage. No, it was more likely that I ended up flayed and kebabbed over open flames.

Putting off the inescapable for as long as I could, I sighed and reached for my glasses. The stretch made the aches and pains in my body known.

Sitting up with a pained groan, I lifted my shirt to access the damage. Dark purple bruises painted my abdomen and side like an abstract masterpiece. It would have been a beauty to behold if it wasn't a visual display of my pain.

I gently probed my neck, wincing. If my stomach looked like an abstract painting of a galaxy, I could only imagine what my neck looked like.

Dragging myself to the dresser, I searched through it for something that could hide the damage. Not expecting to find much, I was pleasantly surprised when I found a turtleneck. The thick fabric would make me uncomfortably warm while working, but the discomfort of having my bruised skin on display won over.

As I dressed, I thought over the plan I developed last night while sleep evaded me. I would be stupid not to expect more from Jaxon- even Axel. Although I couldn't think of a solution to placate Axel, my mind had come to one for Jaxon. It was a last-ditch solution carved by a desperate mind. I didn't want to feel what I did last night again. I wouldn't have even minded it if it was just the assault.

But no. It was more than that. It was the shame and defeat- the reminder of how he played with my head- warped and twisted it into something unnatural and disgusting. I had prided myself on not letting him gain control over my mind, but if I was honest- he had. My reaction to Jaxon last night just proved how deeply his twisted desires had shaped me.

I escaped from him physically, but I couldn't escape from the remnants of him that were now an intrinsic part of me.

I clenched my teeth as I exited my room.

I wished Zev hadn't saved me that night in the bathes. I wouldn't be spiralling from having to face the truth hidden in the darkest recesses of my mind if Zev hadn't planted that morsel of hope with his unforeseen heroics. If I had known having someone help me for the first time would leave such repercussions, I would have told him to leave. It wasn't worth facing the truth of what he made me into. It wasn't worth remembering the most humiliating and damning facets of the past years. The parts that haunted me the most. That parts that my mind and body had grasped onto and made my own.

I could handle the pain and suffering.

I couldn't handle- couldn't accept that he had wormed his way into my head. Leaving a lasting brand.

I walked to Ezra's workshop, paranoia keeping me on my toes as I kept an eye on my surroundings and those milling about. I couldn't do what I needed to make things right without help.

I knocked lightly before pushing the door open.

"I need some more time, Cassius. I almost have it just right, but I wanted to test it with some Thistle Weed to see if it has any effects on the potency," he said without looking up.

He was standing at his desk. Books, plants, and other unidentifiable substances were littered in front of him as he mixed something with a pestle in a mortar.

"Oh, I'll come back later," I said, starting to pull the door closed again.

He jumped at my voice, dropping the green sprigs he was about to add. His head snapped up and his wide eyes locked on me. "N-Nea!"

"Sorry, I'll come back when you're not busy."

I went to leave again but stopped at his shouted protest. He rounded the table and came towards me.

"Stay, that can wait. If you were Cassius, you would have been early. I have more than enough time to deal with that," he said waving towards his abandoned work.

He nervously ran his hand through his hair. A closer look revealed a dishevelled state that was unusual to witness on him. He was too put together to be wearing yesterday's wrinkled shirt. And was that a stain I spied?

Awkwardness permeated the air. I was right. I had ruined things between us. The comfortable, easy-going mood that surrounded us was gone.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, his smile seemed forced and uncertain.

I adjusted my glasses- nervous tick. "I... I need your help."

His brows slightly dipped. "Is something wrong? Did someone do something to you?" His voice held genuine concern. It made my heartstrings twinge.

I shook my head. "No," I lied.

"Then what is it?" His face was open and inviting.

"I made a mistake and ruined something I shouldn't have been touching," I admitted. "I... I was hoping you could help me to make it right."

I could only think of one way to ease Jaxon's anger; by fixing what I ruined. I couldn't restore the image to its original condition, but I could try my best. I knew he could tape it back together, but the seam of the tear would be a constant reminder of the damage. If Ezra could get the pieces for me, I could tape them back together and fill the seam with paint to make it good as new.

It wasn't a guarantee that it would save me from Jaxon's wrath, but it was the only thing I could think of. I had to do something besides driving myself insane while waiting for him to strike again. If the picture meant half as much as it clearly seemed to, then my effort to try to fix it must hold some weight. Right?

Worry clouded Ezra's green eyes. It made my nerves skyrocket.

"And what was this something?" He carefully asked.

"I was- I- I accidentally ripped a picture I found in Jaxon's nightstand. He was-" I swallowed hard, "-fairly upset about it."

His eyes widened in horror. "What picture?" His softly spoken question held a hint of dread.

"It was of a man and Jaxon- I think- when he was younger."

Ezra sharply inhaled before cursing and pulling at his hair. His eyes lasered onto me, scanning over my body. It made me grateful that I found the turtleneck.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked like it was expected.

I lied once more, shaking my head.

He released a relieved sigh.

"How would I..." He started to ask, but I interpreted. He seemed too busy to have his time wasted more than I already was.

"I was hoping you could get me the ripped pieces. I could tape them together and fix the imperfections with paint," I said, gesturing towards the jars on a shelf that I assumed he used to paint labels. "I used to be pretty good at painting. I could make it look like it never happened." I hoped I could at least. It had been a long while since I felt the hard press of a narrow paintbrush in my hand.

He shook his head and my heart sank. "He won't leave the damaged picture out for anyone to touch, not after this. Plus, he would notice it was gone." He scratched the faint sprinkling of coarse hair that grew on his jaw. Another reminder that he wasn't in his put-together state as usual.

Dejected, I was going to apologize for wasting his time.

"But." I perked up as hope reignited at the one word. "I could scan the ripped pieces onto my tablet."

A smile spread on my face, mirroring the one on his that grew along with mine.

"Instead of fixing it with paint, I'll help you put together the two halves digitally so it's one seamless picture again. It's printed on too old of a material to fix with magic without destroying it."

I couldn't help myself. I lunged at him.

He stumbled back as my body collided with his. I wrapped my arms tightly around his torso. Hopefully, he understood how thankful I was from the sheer force of my hug, but I spoke the words just to make it clear. "Thank you."