servitude, what had he been forced into?
Thinking of the moment at the pool when he refused her attentions, Sophie thought she understood a little better. Moreover, she knew a moment of distinct shame. If the kind of treatment depicted in these photos was all Ephraim knew, no wonder he didn’t want to share himself with anyone in that way.
For all he knew, Sophie was no better than the rest of his owners.
Maybe I’m not, she thought to herself.
He wasn’t one to forget his past, apparently. Sophie walked up and examined the photos close up, noting the vast and beautiful landscapes in the backgrounds, the glittering and gorgeous people in the photos with him. No matter the scenario, there was one constant: Ephraim looked passive, angry, stifled.
Never happy, not in one single photograph. She wrinkled her nose, trying to think if he’d ever smiled at her, a genuine and true smile.
Nope. Not once, ever.
She had to drag herself out of that room, curiosity eating her up. Ephraim was such a mystery to her, though his past was clearly tragic. The more she considered what it must have been like to be owned, the more she thought about the kind of person who would go out of their way to own another being… the more petals unfurled in the story of Ephraim.
And now Sophie herself was one of those people. Fuck .
She wandered the maze of his house, lost in thought, until at last she came to a hallway of closed doors. The hallway stretched on and on, out of her line of sight. For all she knew, it might truly be endless.
Something in her gut told her that this was where she needed to be. Glancing back over her shoulder, she stepped forward and opened the first door on her left. A sucking black void drew at her clothes, her hair, tugging her like a gentle vacuum.
“Shit!” she said, slamming the door closed. She let out a shaky laugh. “I guess that was to be expected.”
“Not a particularly humanoid-friendly plane,” came Ephraim’s deep voice from behind her.
Sophie jumped and turned, guilt flooding her veins.
“Um, hey. You’re up,” was all she could manage. And fully dressed , Sophie thought with regret.
Ephraim watched her for a moment, then moved forward and grasped her wrist, pulling her out of the hallway and dangerously close to being in his arms.
“Why are you opening doors, Sophie?” he asked, his voice deadly-soft. He stared down at her, his eyes flashing that eerie yellow-green.
When Sophie’s tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, his gaze dropped to her mouth for the barest moment. His jaw tensed and his grip on her wrist tightened.
“I was bored,” she lied, her chin raising in defiance.
He looked down at her mouth a final time before releasing her, looking not a bit convinced.
“Those are all doors to other planes,” he said, turning and moving back toward the main room, leaving Sophie to trail after him. “Open the wrong one… you’re dead.”
Though she knew he wasn’t making a threat so much as stating a fact, the ice in his tone gave her a chill. Such distrust in every word he spoke, in every glance… no matter how heated.
The worst part was that she deserved that, on some level. Yeah, she was going to save a hell of a lot of lives and possibly the city by enacting her plan. But she was doing it to save her sister, not just out of the goodness of her heart.
“Is the spirit realm behind one of those doors?” she asked, before she could lose her nerve.
He faltered for a moment, then turned to stare at her.
“Why would you ask that?” He demanded to know.
“There are endless doors, endless planes of existence…” she waved her hand at the hallway. “It’s got to be in there somewhere.”
His gaze narrowed.
“It’s the first door on the right, as a matter of fact,” he snapped, shocking her with the immediate answer. “But you can’t just waltz in there. It changes you.”
The way he said it indicated that he knew from experience, but he wasn’t exactly
Thinking of the moment at the pool when he refused her attentions, Sophie thought she understood a little better. Moreover, she knew a moment of distinct shame. If the kind of treatment depicted in these photos was all Ephraim knew, no wonder he didn’t want to share himself with anyone in that way.
For all he knew, Sophie was no better than the rest of his owners.
Maybe I’m not, she thought to herself.
He wasn’t one to forget his past, apparently. Sophie walked up and examined the photos close up, noting the vast and beautiful landscapes in the backgrounds, the glittering and gorgeous people in the photos with him. No matter the scenario, there was one constant: Ephraim looked passive, angry, stifled.
Never happy, not in one single photograph. She wrinkled her nose, trying to think if he’d ever smiled at her, a genuine and true smile.
Nope. Not once, ever.
She had to drag herself out of that room, curiosity eating her up. Ephraim was such a mystery to her, though his past was clearly tragic. The more she considered what it must have been like to be owned, the more she thought about the kind of person who would go out of their way to own another being… the more petals unfurled in the story of Ephraim.
And now Sophie herself was one of those people. Fuck .
She wandered the maze of his house, lost in thought, until at last she came to a hallway of closed doors. The hallway stretched on and on, out of her line of sight. For all she knew, it might truly be endless.
Something in her gut told her that this was where she needed to be. Glancing back over her shoulder, she stepped forward and opened the first door on her left. A sucking black void drew at her clothes, her hair, tugging her like a gentle vacuum.
“Shit!” she said, slamming the door closed. She let out a shaky laugh. “I guess that was to be expected.”
“Not a particularly humanoid-friendly plane,” came Ephraim’s deep voice from behind her.
Sophie jumped and turned, guilt flooding her veins.
“Um, hey. You’re up,” was all she could manage. And fully dressed , Sophie thought with regret.
Ephraim watched her for a moment, then moved forward and grasped her wrist, pulling her out of the hallway and dangerously close to being in his arms.
“Why are you opening doors, Sophie?” he asked, his voice deadly-soft. He stared down at her, his eyes flashing that eerie yellow-green.
When Sophie’s tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, his gaze dropped to her mouth for the barest moment. His jaw tensed and his grip on her wrist tightened.
“I was bored,” she lied, her chin raising in defiance.
He looked down at her mouth a final time before releasing her, looking not a bit convinced.
“Those are all doors to other planes,” he said, turning and moving back toward the main room, leaving Sophie to trail after him. “Open the wrong one… you’re dead.”
Though she knew he wasn’t making a threat so much as stating a fact, the ice in his tone gave her a chill. Such distrust in every word he spoke, in every glance… no matter how heated.
The worst part was that she deserved that, on some level. Yeah, she was going to save a hell of a lot of lives and possibly the city by enacting her plan. But she was doing it to save her sister, not just out of the goodness of her heart.
“Is the spirit realm behind one of those doors?” she asked, before she could lose her nerve.
He faltered for a moment, then turned to stare at her.
“Why would you ask that?” He demanded to know.
“There are endless doors, endless planes of existence…” she waved her hand at the hallway. “It’s got to be in there somewhere.”
His gaze narrowed.
“It’s the first door on the right, as a matter of fact,” he snapped, shocking her with the immediate answer. “But you can’t just waltz in there. It changes you.”
The way he said it indicated that he knew from experience, but he wasn’t exactly
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