Soulless (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy 2)

“You’ll go wherever you’re told,” she said, and I didn’t ask her again, just headed back to my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

She clasped her hands behind her back as she spoke.

“There are rules,” she told me. “You only speak when you are spoken to, and you do whatever you are told. If you want to go to the bathroom, you must raise your hand and ask like a good girl, and you must always try your very best in your lessons.”

I nodded, but it was already weird, just how stupid those rules were. Nobody ever stopped me speaking, and I never had to ask to pee.

“Good night, Elaine,” she said, and I heard the key click in the lock as she left.

I was locked in.

I tried the door handle, but it didn’t open. I banged on the door, but nobody came.

I’d never been locked in anywhere, and I was already scared of a night alone with no way out.

There was a nightdress in the wardrobe, but I didn’t want to wear it. There was a glass of water on the bedside table, but I didn’t want to drink it. I wanted to go home, to my own bed in my own room, screw what a bad girl I was.

I thought it was a nightmare as I stared up at the ceiling that night and tried to sleep in that bed. I was nearly crying like a little baby as I thought about more nights in here, and how Uncle Lionel had promised such good lessons for me. I didn’t want good lessons. I wanted home.

The first night really was a nightmare. I had barely slept when Margaret came calling for me next morning and cussed me for not wearing my nightdress to bed.

I ate my porridge for breakfast and tried to tell myself it was only one stupid night, and I’m sure it would get a bit easier – meeting some other girls and not being so locked up when they knew I could behave enough not to run away.

If only that first night really had been the nightmare.

If only that first night hadn’t been a light of fucking Heaven, compared to the true depths of Hell.20LucianI’d never heard of Reverend Lynch, but he made my hackles rise as soon as Elaine spoke his name. Her stance shifted, scared even after all these years.

“He touched you, didn’t he?”

She looked away from me as she answered with a nod of her head. It took her a few long seconds to speak again.

“First of all, it was punishment. I had to write lines out for him in my neatest handwriting on my very first day in his lessons. He let the other girls leave when they were done, but he made me stay, saying I hadn’t done well enough.” She took a breath before she continued. “I was writing them until late, until I was falling asleep in my chair since I was so tired from the night before. That’s when he came up to me and slammed his hand down on my desk.”

My heart was pounding as I waited for her to continue, and not in a good way.

Her voice was so gentle as she carried on talking.

“He tore up my lines and said I was a very bad girl for not giving enough care and attention. He pulled me up to my feet and pushed me forwards over the desk, and then he told me what he was going to do to me, and he was so strong and so sure and made me feel like such a naughty little girl . . .”

“He spanked you, didn’t he?”

She nodded, and her cheeks were pinking up. “Yeah, he spanked me. He lifted my skirt up and he spanked me over my panties. I was so embarrassed, but I bit my lip, not wanting to say anything or let him realize just how naughty I felt.”

“What did he do after it? Make you carry on with your lines?”

“No,” she said. “He acted like it was the most normal thing in the world that he’d hit me and called Margaret back in to march me upstairs. I tried to tell her that he’d hurt me and I needed to ring my mother, but she kept her face stern and grabbed me by the arm when we got to my room. There’s nothing wrong with accepting punishment through Reverend Lynch’s hands, she told me, he’s the messenger of our Lord. I thought she was right. I thought Mom would get mad about me needing that sort of punishment.”

I tipped my head to the side and tried to act nonchalant, but it was hard. I felt anything but calm at her words. Under regular circumstances I’d have expected to be cold as all fuck at the thought of a young, bitchy little Elaine Constantine getting a spanking over a school desk, but I wasn’t. My fists were struggling not to clench at my sides.