The week of torture drifted past in flashes of black and white.

Salem kept Inayah locked in the cages intermittently, allowing her freedom to use the potty and eat before locking her up again. His torture knew no bounds, from whipping to shouting and sometimes daring to suffocate her in her food.

All for one question.

"Do you like him?" Salem asked, lifting her head with his grip on her ponytail. 

Inayah blinked back nauseating tears and spoke. Her own voice sounded like it was tearing and unfamiliar. "No," she admitted for the tenth time that day.

"What were you planning on doing?" 

"Running away," blood dripped from her nose from the stress her body tried to put up with, "he said we'd head East-"

"To the oceans." Salem finished, a scowl erupting over his features, marrying the beauty with something otherworldly pained. His grip on her hair loosened, "he was planning on taking you across the seas." He spat with a derisive laugh, "and did you think that would happen?"

Inayah stared at the ground hard, gritting her teeth.

"A Lycan and human slave... bound for a happy future. Is that what you expected all this time?"

"It would be better than this," Inayah whispered, and his smile dropped.

The hand was back in her hair, yanking her face up to him. So close their noses brushed; "There is no happiness beyond my territory," Salem dared, "know this Inayah, you are mine now and forevermore. Do you understand?"

Inayah drew a moment of hesitation, studying the man before her who burned with such anger - enough to hide his own self-pity and rejection inside. "Yes." She whispered.

"Good," the grip on her hair loosened and he rose, stepping away from the cage. "You will remain inside until I return for you."

He did not return that same day. Inayah's whole body had grown numb and stiff and pained all over. She tried screaming and fighting but grew tired and accepted her fate as is. 

It was Salem's approaching footsteps that drew her from the momentary reverie. Tiredly, Inayah blinked her eyes open as he worked the restraints off of her. 

"Have a bath and change. Your schedule will remain as is." Inayah watched his retreating figure soon replaced by Mathilde who stood on the doorway, in hands are her clothes.

"The bath awaits you." 

Rubbing her sore joints, Inayah quietly made for the bathroom. She stripped slowly, avoiding her reflection in the mirror, and slowly submerged herself into the ice bath. Of course, Mathilde hadn't bothered heating it. Inayah grit her teeth and gently scrubbed her body before rinsing off and pulling on the clean maid outfit.

She had forgotten how it felt to wear something so foreign, not after Lycus' clothes of normalcy. This felt like a prison, invisible shackles latching her to Salem. 

Inayah quietly moved across the manor, her hand rising to the wound over her chest. It still ached but with a heated dullness, one that can never truly go away, and she did not wish to see Salem's initials branded onto her chest. Like cattle. That was exactly how he had treated her.

The kitchen was as she had left it. Inayah's eyes flickered to the corner where Mathilde had stabbed her with the hot poker rod. She rubbed at her side subconsciously then let out a dry, humourless, sigh of laughter. It seemed all her enemies loved branding her.

"What are you doing just standing?" Mathilde shoved past her shoulder rather roughly, forcing Inayah to stumble sideways. Her dry smile dissolved to nothing but placid. "All those days lounging around... you must have forgotten how to do chores..." Inayah silently watched the woman hobble about the kitchen, banging pots and pans.

"Well!" Mathilde screeched furiously gesturing at the kitchen items before her, "will you stand there and do nothing?" 

Wordlessly, Inayah made for the nearest counter and automatically reached for a basket of potatoes. She picked the knife, momentarily staring at the double edge -- subtly sharp. Inayah flicked her thumb over the blade's edge once then twice, a brief image forming just behind her eyes. 

Mathilde's throat bared at her. The swift flickering of a knife as she slashed it across, horizontally, from ear to ear... the slice almost smiling up at her in its own mysterious way.

Inayah slowly peeled the potatoes and carrots, conscious of the woman rambling behind her. 

"He should have killed you."

He should have. Inayah thought lamely then caught herself. I should have killed him. 

Lycus. She wondered what Salem had done to him, and if he was truly dead- No, he can't be dead. She had only known him for two weeks, but a bond had been formed, one that made her confident enough to know that the man was alive somewhere. 

At least Salem had half a mind to spare his brother. Albeit a few punishments... Inayah winced, wondering if the amount of damage he had done to her would equate to Lycus's. Salem might have punished his brother even more.

"Get the food, girl." Mathilde drew her attention away from the boiling cauldron. It was dinner time, the clock overhead chiming its heavy symbol.

Obediently, Inayah picked the first silver tray of Salem's starter and walked out of the kitchen. Classic music echoed from his chambers, but he stood in the dining room leaning against one of the seats, in hand was a glass of wine and book.

"Slave," Salem spoke, his gaze still fixated on the book. "Stay, I would like to have a word with you." 

Inayah set his tray down and scooted further back, hands clutched before her as a mask of servility took over. Mathilde shot her a slight off look then bowed towards Salem before exiting.

Inayah stood and waited. Her gaze listlessly wandered from corner to corner, utensils to chairs, the floor and ceiling, until Salem shut the book in finality. His eyes settled on her, "How do you feel?" 

She sucked her heavy tongue, "Fine, thank you, master." 

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

He sat down and flattened the napkin before settling it onto his laps. "What happened the day I left?"

His sudden question caught Inayah off guard and she struggled to keep the composure. "When you left?"

Salem nodded, "I have my version of events but you have not given me yours."

You should have asked before punishing me, she thought bitterly then cleared her throat. Thumbing her fingers, Inayah spoke; "I was doing the chores when Mathilde approached me and we had a scuffle, I punched her and apologized... she got mad and picked the poker before burning me with it." Inayah watched his face was any evidence of surprise or shock or maybe even anger, but the same placid mask remained unshifting.

"I see." He sipped his wine and gestured her onwards.

Inayah licked her lips, "It was Lycus who found me. I woke up in his cabin sick, and he took care of me-" her voice grew timid and wary whilst treading along the topic of his brother. It seemed a sore and jealous spot lingered among them. "Once I got better... he allowed me to visit my village and we just talked."

"After fucking," Salem finished and her gaze diminished beneath his own hardened one. 

Silence pervaded the room, a tense moment drifting only to be broken by Salem as he sat straighter; something smug and amusing dancing within the shallows of his gaze.

"Do you wish to see him?"