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Chapter 6 - The Corruption Begins

The bathwater scalded my skin.

I scrubbed until the cloth came away pink with blood. Until my arms ached and my fingers cramped. Until every inch of flesh he had touched burned with a different kind of pain.

It did not help.

I could still feel him. The ghost of his hands on my thighs. The phantom pressure of his mouth claiming mine. The echo of his fingers inside me, owning what should never have been his.

The bond would not let me forget.

Heat flooded through me at the memory. Not shame, though that was there too. Arousal. My body responded to the recollection of his touch as eagerly as it had responded to the reality.

I bit back a sound that was half sob, half moan.

The hot water lapped against my sensitized skin. Every sensation reminded me of his heat. The burn of his hands. The way my body had opened for him despite every rational thought screaming betrayal.

My nipples hardened beneath the water. I pressed my thighs together, trying to suppress the ache building between them.

It only made it worse.

Through the bond, I felt his awareness. He knew what I was doing. Knew I was thinking of him. His satisfaction wrapped around my consciousness like smoke, dark and suffocating.

Stop, I threw the thought at him.

His response was immediate. "Never."

I scrubbed harder. The soap stung against raw skin. Good. I deserved the pain. Deserved worse than pain for what I had done.

What I had let him do.

What I had wanted him to do.

The door to my chambers opened. I jerked upright in the bath, water sloshing over the sides.

Cora entered, her arms full of fresh linens. She took one look at me and froze.

"My lady..." Her voice trailed off. Her eyes went wide with horror.

I looked down at myself. My skin was red and raw where I had scrubbed too hard. Bruises bloomed across my hips in the exact shape of his fingers. A mark darkened my neck where his mouth had claimed me.

Evidence of my corruption written on my flesh.

"It is nothing," I said. The lie tasted like ash.

Cora set down the linens with trembling hands. She approached the bath slowly, as one might approach a wounded animal.

"Let me help you," she whispered.

I wanted to refuse. Wanted to send her away so she would not see what I had become. But I was too tired to fight. Too exhausted from the constant battle against the bond, against my own traitorous body.

I nodded.

Cora took the cloth from my raw hands. She dipped it in the water, her movements gentle as she began to wash my hair.

When her fingers brushed the mark on my neck, I flinched.

Heat pooled low in my belly at the contact. At the reminder of how that bruise had been made. Christian's mouth on my throat, his teeth scraping skin, marking me as his in a way that went beyond any magical bond.

Through the connection, I felt his dark pleasure at my reaction.

"What has he done to you?" Cora's voice broke on the words.

Everything. Nothing. He had given me exactly what some dark, broken part of me craved.

"I cannot explain," I said instead.

Cora's hands stilled in my hair. "You do not have to endure this. There must be a way..."

"There is no way." The truth was bitter. "The bond cannot be broken. I am trapped with him. And he..." I could not finish the sentence.

He owned me. Body and soul. The bond had seen to that.

Cora helped me from the bath. Wrapped me in soft linen that felt like sandpaper against my raw skin. When she reached for the dress laid out for dinner, I saw her hands shaking.

She was terrified. Not of Christian. Of what I was becoming.

The dress was emerald silk. Beautiful. Expensive. A gift from my captor that felt like mockery. It had a high collar that would hide the mark on my neck. Small mercy.

Cora laced me into it with practiced efficiency. Her fingers worked the complicated fastenings without looking, her gaze fixed on my face in the mirror.

"You are not the same," she said quietly. "Something has changed."

Everything had changed. The moment he touched me. The moment I touched him back.

"I know." My reflection stared back at me. Silver hair still damp from the bath. Eyes haunted. Skin marked with evidence of my surrender.

I looked like a ghost. Or a prisoner of war slowly forgetting why she should resist.

Cora finished the lacing. Her hand rested briefly on my shoulder, a gesture of comfort that made my throat tight.

"I am here," she said. "Whatever you need. Whatever happens. I am here."

The loyalty in her voice was a knife in my chest. She would stand by me even as I descended into this corruption. Even as I transformed into something unrecognizable.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She nodded. Left to prepare my things for dinner. The door closed behind her with a soft click.

I was alone.

But not truly alone. Never truly alone again.

Through the bond, Christian's presence wrapped around my mind. I felt his anticipation. He was waiting for me. Waiting to parade me before the court as his claimed prize.

Waiting to sit beside me and feel my body's traitorous response to his proximity.

My core clenched at the thought. Heat flooded through me despite my exhaustion. Despite the raw, aching skin. Despite everything.

The bond had made me an addict.

And Christian was the drug I could not quit.

I closed my eyes. Took a breath. Tried to find some scrap of the princess I had been before this. Before him. Before the bond twisted everything into darkness.

She was gone. Or dying. I could feel her slipping away with every moment, replaced by this creature who craved her enemy's touch.

Night fell beyond my window. Time to face the court. Time to sit beside him and pretend my body was not screaming for his hands on me again.

Time to perform strength I did not feel.

I straightened my spine. Lifted my chin. The mask of dignity settled over my features like armor.

It would have to be enough.

As I reached for the door, exhaustion crashed over me. I had not slept properly in days. The bond drained me. Fighting it drained me more.

Tonight, I would have to sleep. There was no avoiding it.

And when I slept, the bond would drag me into his consciousness again. Another dream. Another violation of whatever boundaries remained between us.

I stepped into the corridor. Guards fell into formation around me. They escorted me toward the great hall where dinner waited.

Where he waited.

My pulse hammered. My skin prickled with awareness. Every step closer made the bond sing with terrible anticipation.

My body ached for him.

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