Epilogue
Andrew
Why in thefuck does Grigori want me to come to his house? Except for doing our initial review to let him into The Society, I haven't had to interact with him too much. The only concern I have is that he finally broke Chelsea. That girl was already unstable; who knows how pushing her would make her react.
As I climb up the steps, I think through exactly what I'm going to say to him. If he's fractured her mind, I will take her out of this house. I don't care if he's one of those alpha men who think a woman belongs to him. Mental safety will always come first unless it's negotiated otherwise, of course.
Straightening my tie, I rap on the door, half expecting to wait out here in a show of dominance. He seems the type to pull a stunt like that. Instead, the door flies open with both him and Chelsea standing behind it. I note the collar around her neck, then the small smile gracing her lips. She certainly seems well adjusted enough.
"Thank you for coming so soon."
"Well, your incentive of doubling my rate was certainly enough to get me to come here on my day off."
Chelsea stares up at him, eyes wide. Interesting. Did he not tell her I was coming? But then why meet me at the door?
"So, is this a couples counseling type of thing?"
"Not exactly."
"You're mostly here for Jane Doe," Chelsea interrupts, worry lacing her eyes.
Grigori clears his throat, and Chelsea backs away, head down, hands clasped behind her back. Interesting. She obeys him with an easy submission that wasn't present at her claiming. Perhaps she's finally put away her fixation for Jeremy and embraced a dominant that can mold her into the submissive she was meant to be. For sure, Jeremy will be happy to know she seems well - John too. Though granted, John was more eaten up with worry and guilt than Jeremy was.
Narrowing my eyes, I look her up and down, not seeing any major signs of neglect. She's certainly haggard, but that could be from numerous things. As they lead me up the stairs, they catch me up to speed on what's happened to both her and this mystery woman. Despite what Chelsea says, I'm going to insist that she have a few sessions with me. Trauma doesn't just go away with sex. It can stuff things down, but eventually, it will come back to the surface. If she refuses, I'm sure Grigori will aid her decision process.
The ornate door swings open, revealing a waif of a girl lying in a massive four-poster bed. It dwarfs her, making her appear even smaller. Tubes and wires connect up to her, making her frail body look even more easily broken. Awareness slithers down my spine as I take in her dirty brown hair, smooth complexion, small frame. Even if she were fed every hour for a week, she'd still be tiny compared to me.
Two entities war within me as I watch her. The caveman wants to drag her away and keep her safe, tucking her small frame into mine until everything that hurts or scares her disappears. The monster wants to pick her apart, dissect her, find out what makes her tick, then use all that knowledge to make her quiver in fear as she comes on my cock.