Page 6 of A Dove To Break

“I don’t care,” I sniffle. His scent is a woodsy citrus, and it’s calming. I involuntarily turn into him to bury my face and inhale his scent. “Fuck, you smell good.”

“I’m glad,” he laughs. “Who hurt you, Little Dove?”

Dove? Did he just call me a bird? “It doesn’t matter,” I say.

“It does to me. You are bleeding,” he says. “Who?”

“Phillip,” I whisper.

“What happened?”

“He pinned me to my bed and… took my ass,” I say bluntly. I don’t know why I was so crude about it, but it’s the first thing I think of.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Alania,” Adrian says. “Jax is locating him now.”

“Whatever,” I mutter.

“Are you in pain?” he asks.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“Call me a softie, but I’m not a big fan of women being abused,” he says.

“Yet here you are at a school for raping women into submissiveness,” I snap. “Put me down.”

“We are almost there,” he says as he walks into the Manor.

“I don’t need to be carried to my death. I can walk,” I say, trying to wiggle out of his arms. He holds me tighter and continues to walk. I sigh heavily and sulk in silence. Eventually, I am taken back to my room.

“Who are you?” Adrian asks.

“Uhm. Fiona. I cleaned her bed. I thought… I’m sorry. Was I not…” she stammers.

“It’s okay. I was just wondering,” he says. “Raul, lay a towel down.”

“Is she okay?” Fiona asks.

“No. She’s bleeding,” Adrian says, laying me on the mattress. I immediately roll to face away from everyone and curl up to hide the shame stabbing through me. “Bob. Send everyone back to their rooms. She doesn’t need to be a spectacle.”

“Yes, sir,” Bob, the fourth guard, says.

“I’m… going to get Charles,” Raul, another master, I assume.

“Okay. Alania, is it okay if I check you?” Adrian asks.

“Wow. Asking for consent?” I mutter.

“Hey,” Fiona says as she crawls up the bed between me and the wall. She lays down in front of me and cups my cheek. “I’m right here. I’ll help hold him down so you can kick his ass if he hurts you. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Do you want to stay on your side, or roll to your back?” Adrian asks me.

“Whatever is faster…”

“Your back,” he says simply. I sigh and move to my back, but Fiona turns my face so I am looking at her. When I tear up, she pulls my blanket over our heads to hide my face.

“You’ve got this,” Fiona says sweetly.