Devil's Captive (Fallen Dynasty 1)

The next day

“Belle, please.” I crawled to the front of the cage and grabbed the bars when the lights came on. “Say something—I just want to hear another voice.”

Belle didn’t respond—she didn’t even look at me. She simply put down my food, turned out the light, and walked back upstairs. I saw breakfast on the table near the cage before the lights were turned out. That meant it was morning. The door would open soon. I could survive a little longer. The madness hadn’t completely won—not yet. I convinced myself that Devlin would return the next day. I truly didn’t know how long he would be gone, but it was better to convince myself that I had hope. If I didn’t, then everything inside me would collapse like my body did when exhaustion took me. I felt like I was hanging on by a mental thread, and that thread was so delicate—it could snap at any moment.

The lock. Thank god.

I rushed from the cage and found that my muscles hurt worse than they had any of the other times I had been freed—they threatened to cramp when I walked. I went to the bathroom and realized that I was dehydrated. I had tried to avoid drinking much water, but I wasn’t even drinking enough to replenish the fluids I lost. The crying didn’t help. I walked out of the bathroom and tried to stretch my muscles as I ate. I was so thirsty that I just drank the entire glass of water. I doubted much of it would make it’s way to my bladder at that point—not enough to make me uncomfortable.

If Devlin returns tomorrow, I can do this—I can suffer just a little bit longer.

The cage had confirmed one thing—Devlin was cruel. He was going to make me call him Master, obey his rules, and punish me if I didn’t comply. I doubted the cage was the worst thing he could do to me—a man like him probably sat around all day thinking of ways to hurt people. An image of him flashed in my head—brooding—enjoying my torment. I knew he was watching, or could watch at any time since he had a camera on me. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of watching me cry again. I was going to get back in the cage and endure what remained of my punishment—one I still didn’t believe I deserved.

Enjoy the show, Master.

Fuck. Am I calling him that in my head now?The next day

Breakfast was served in silence. I didn’t even try to get Belle to talk to me. I knew she wouldn’t respond. I waited until the door opened, did what I could in the allotted time, and returned to my prison. I thought of my father—sitting in a cage without the things he loved. He had been inside one much longer than me, even if it was likely more comfortable than the small steel box Devlin put me in. I waited for hours and when lunch arrived, I started to lose the glimmer of hope. What if Devlin didn’t return? What if I was forced to spend another day in the cold confines of punishment. All of that suffering for touching myself? What would he do if I really defied him or deprived him of something he wanted?

I can’t think about that. I just have to focus on my own survival—I have to keep my sanity.

I sank into a dark, exhaustive, dreamless state of unconsciousness after I ate lunch. I was so weary that it felt like my soul had given up hope of existing outside of the cage. I was vaguely aware of footsteps on the stairs. It had to be Belle. She wouldn’t even talk to me, so why bother looking. The light hurt my eyes when it came on, even though my eyelids were shut. I didn’t try to open them—until I realized that the footsteps were heavier—and they didn’t stop at the table near the cage.

“Devlin!” I opened my eyes suddenly and was greeted by his icy stare.

“Hello, princess.” He pushed a key into the cage and turned off the locking mechanism.

I was happy to see him—happy to hear his voice—any voice really. But I shouldn’t have been happy. There should have been hate in my heart. He pulled the cage door open and stepped back as I was forced to crawl out of it. My joints ached and crawling across the floor didn’t feel very comfortable on my knees after being on them so much while he was away. I started to stand, but he put a hand on my shoulder and kept my knees on the floor.

My first moment of human contact in days—and even that slight touch makes my body quiver.

“I haven’t given you permission to stand.” He removed his hand and tilted his head as I looked up at him. “You don’t do anything without my permission.”