SAMANTHA
Jayce did not relent in his relentless assault until it was already dark outside. The world outside the window had faded into deep purple shadows, and the room was lit only by the soft glow of lamps. I was utterly spent, sprawled on the bed, drained of every ounce of energy. My limbs felt like lead, and my mind was a fog of exhaustion and pain. Jayce, in stark contrast, was vibrant and exuberant. He moved about the room with the energy of someone who had just enjoyed a pleasant afternoon, completely unbothered by what he had done to me.
At last, he unlocked my chains, summoned a servant, and instructed her to prepare a meal for the both of us. The clinking of the chains being removed was a sound of relief, but the relief was short-lived. I knew I was still trapped in his world, still at his mercy.
