Untamed {Mature Reading}

Chapter XIII

It felt like a long time before Bianca heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Her body tensed, as if expecting her attacker to return, to claim more of her even when he had taken everything. But no, it was softer, more feminine footfalls that drew closer.

"Bianca?" Moira's groggy voice filled the deathly silent hall before it sharpened in panic. "Bianca?"

Gentle hands touched her, but Bianca shied away from the touch. Moira cursed, long and hard, her pale, drawn face coming into view. "Who did this to you?" Her eyes were filled with worry, with pain. The sight brought more tears.

"Shhh," Moira's hands hovered over Bianca's body, as if not daring to touch her again before finally settling on her shoulder. She sat down her lamp and bundled Bianca into her arms, rubbing her back over and over in soothing motions. "It's okay, it's okay," She muttered over and over. "You're okay. It'll all be okay."

Bianca squeezed her eyes shut, but her tears had finally run dry. There was nothing left of her,no more tears, just a shell of an existence, a hallow girl with nothing.

"We need ter get you ter yer rooms, okay?" Moira pulled Bianca back just enough to gaze into her eyes, searching. "You need to move, lass. You canne stay here, not like this. Do ye think ye can move?"

Could she? Bianca did not know, but numbly, she nodded.

Somehow, she got to her feet. Moira stumbled a little but held on to Bianca as they walked. Every step sent a dull ache through the priestess, but the ache that had settled in her heart was the greatest of all. She had never felt so truly alone, so abandoned than she had in that very moment. The gods that she so worshiped and dedicated her life to had forsaken her.

Bianca did not know how they got there, but only that Moira had laid her gentle onto her bed furs, her face pinched with worry. "I'm gonna get Mrs Lowe. I'm comin' back, I swear."

Bianca had wanted to say that she did not care, that she would never care again, but no words came out. Silently, she watched the young girl go, carefully leaving her candle down before she did.

She shouldn't have gone alone.

Bianca realised too late that maybe Moira would be the attacker's next victim, another girl alone in a dark hallway. But all too soon she came back, the plump Ms Lowe behind her.

"Ah, lass." There was such tenderness in Mrs Lowe's voice that Bianca felt tears welling up once more. Her worn hand cradled her cheek and gently wiped away a tear that fell with her thumb. "Moira, run her a bath quickly and help me get her out of these clothes."

Moira did as she asked, the two women working silently and diligently as they carefully removed the torn emerald dress from Bianca's body.

"Jesus," Moira whispered in soft horror as she gazed down at the shredded skirt, holding it up to the light. From where she lay, Bianca could see the dark stain of blood and another gleaming substance, pale and milky.

But Mrs Lowe's concerned features were fixed on Bianca, gazing down at her naked body with such anguish it was almost like she felt, knew her pain. Gently she move Bianca's limbs, cooing softly whenever she touched a tender bruise too harshly.

"She'll need a doctor," Mrs Lowe muttered, more so to herself than anyone else.

There was a sudden booming on the other side of Bianca's door.

"What te fuck is goin' on? It's bloody five in te mornin' an' I hear ye scuttling-,"

Angus' curses were cut short by Mrs Lowe, her head poking out of the door so that she gave him no chance to look inside. "Shut up and get the Laid. Now."