I escaped the beast who bought me at auction. I thought I could take my throne back alone. I was wrong. I only have one option left. Go back to the beast.
But this time, I have a muzzle for the monster. A choke-chain to bring him to heel. I’ll use him. Control him. Pray that he’ll keep me alive long enough to take what’s mine.
But every night I’m under his roof, the line between strategy and surrender gets thinner. And every fight ends the same way: with his hand at my throat and me begging him not to stop. He bought me.
He chained me. He’s still the only thing standing between me and whoever wants me dead. Losing him would end me. But letting him break me might be worse.
