Dead Girls Don't Run - fantasy version | 18+

10 | Fuck Tainted Memories

The summons came this morning.

I knew it was coming as soon as they'd announced who won the fight last night.

I take a small barely perceptible breath as I reach the double doors leading to Charles study, the large mahogany doors closed and silent, no noise coming from inside, nothing to prepare me for what lay ahead.

In fact the whole manor was silent, everyone having fled for the morning, no doubt at the behest of the master.

I blow out the breath and knock before pushing the doors open and slipping in.

I step onto the blood red rug, the rug I swear was once a fairer shade but had been dyed over the years with the blood of the people unfortunate enough to have been invited into the study.

God knows, my own blood has tainted this rug one too many times.

I shut the door behind me with a snick and look up.

I hide my shock quickly when my eyes connect to Ethan's, who stands off to the side, hands behind his back and chin dipped slightly, staring straight ahead, a soldier ready for orders.

I look to Elijah next, one quick glance before finally looking to Charles.

His eyes are hard, his face like granite but the blazing fire behind those whiskey hued eye of his has me freezing.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Don't play dumb Natalia."

I only blink in response.

"You threw the fight last night." It's not the words but the way he says them that has my heart beating double time.

I count the beats to distract myself from what I know is coming soon.

"I lost." I mutter, keeping my back straight even as the scar on my forearm flares almost as if in warning. I refrain from looking at the scar from when Charles had broken my arm in three places.

"You don't lose." He says quietly, lethally.

Silence follows his words as he gets up from behind his large desk slowly, a predator waiting to strike.

"You. Don't. Fucking. Lose." He sneers through clenched teeth, followed by his fist slamming on the table with a death rattle.

I hate myself for the flinch that takes over me.

"You don't lose until I fucking tell you to lose and I didn't tell you to throw that fight."

"He was better than me."

"Bullshit." The words are like a slap to the face, stinging with its delivery. "I taught you myself."

I don't reply, knowing nothing I say will change my punishment.

"You threw that fight last night. I want to know why."

Defiance. Rebellion. Freedom. Because I wanted to.

I don't say any of it though.

I glance up, eyes connecting to Elijah's for all of a second, long enough for him to give me a shake of his head.

Don't react.

I fold my arms behind me, a mirror pose to Ethan's taking over, a soldier awaiting reprimand. "I will take whatever punishment you deem fit."