My head was down, eyes trained on his feet, so I didn’t see his hand as it slapped loudly against my left cheek, leaving behind heat like nothing I’d felt in a decade.
The chains clinked and rattled as I attempted to bring my hands to my face but couldn’t quite lift them high enough. Tears pooled in my eyes, and I tried not to blink, fearing that they’d fall if I did.
The growl that emitted from Ra’s throat sounded tortured; in a way I’d never heard before. He was not just angry but scared. There was vulnerability behind his dark features. I flinched as he approached me, his mouth turning up into a grin at my reaction.
“Oh, my pet. I think I like you like this–like some wounded animal, looking lost and abandoned.” He was pacing in front of me again, this time with a bit more enthusiasm in each step. “Maybe it’s time we try something new, hmmmm?” he asked, curiosity lacing his words. I watched as he raised his hand back to his face, rubbing his chin as he thought.
My cheek burned where he’d slapped me, and I could imagine seeing each individual finger marked in red on my face. This was some sort of madness setting in. At this point I wasn’t sure what the line was in our relationship. As my arms shook in protest of their tight position behind my back, I closed my eyes and knew I had no choice but to do what my uncle commanded.
After re-threading the cuffs on my wrists through the rings on the ground, I was lying on my back, legs spread in humiliation, arms outstretched and taut. All I could do was lay there; eyes closed and wait for whatever this new torture was to end. I could hear Ra move around the room, fabric swishing and the glass vials of blood clanking, but I tried not to focus too much on any one sound. Instead, I was building a wall in my mind of safety. Of calm and comfort.