CHAPTER 7: Part 02

I didn't dare lift my head. I stared at the stone beneath me, watching my own tears drip between my knees, trembling silently down the curve of my cheek.

Then—

He stepped back.

His hands were gone.

But something colder took their place.

The absence.

He was too still.

Too measured.

I could feel the shift in the air — like when lightning pulls tension through a forest before the thunder hits.

And then—

He said, "Come in."

The door creaked open behind me.

I froze.

Not from fear this time.

From humiliation.

I heard heels enter the room.

At least two maids.

They didn't speak.

Didn't whisper.

They moved like they already knew what to do. Like they'd done this before.

I heard the shuffle of canvas. The snap of a tripod's legs locking into place. A click. Then another.

The sound of a lens being adjusted.

No.

No.

My breathing turned shallow.

Kael's voice came again. Smooth. Distant.

"Lift your head."

I didn't.

Couldn't.

Another pause.

"Aria," he said, more quietly now. "Look. At. Me."

My head trembled as I forced it upward.

The restraints groaned above me.

My neck strained with the effort.

But I looked.

And there he was.

Kael stood behind the camera.

Not beside it.

Behind it.

His eyes were on the viewfinder, not on me.

Like I was already a photograph.

Already a memory.

Already evidence.

He didn't touch the shutter yet.

He just watched.

"Keep your back arched," he said. "Good. Spread your knees a little more."

I wanted to scream.

But I obeyed.

Because he'd trained me to already.

Even in silence.

Even through breath.

Even now.

Click.

The sound of the first shot echoed through the chamber.

I flinched. A flash went off, and I blinked, the light slicing across my vision like a slap.

"Open your mouth."

What?

I hesitated.

His voice sharpened.

"Open it."

I parted my lips.

The heat of shame in my face was so raw I thought my skin might peel away from it.

Click.

"Wider."

I obeyed again.

Click.

Another flash.

My hands fisted in their cuffs.

I couldn't look away. Couldn't move. Couldn't hide.

Kael's voice returned — calm, cold.

"Do you think he'll recognize you?" he asked.

He didn't say Cassian Vale.

He didn't have to.

I stared down the barrel of that camera like it was a weapon.

"Do you think he'll remember holding you when you were this small?" His voice dropped an octave. "Will he feel pride… or guilt?"

My heart pounded.

The tears came without permission.

Not sobbing.

Just wet.

Quiet.

Shaking.

I couldn't breathe.

I wanted to die.

Click.

Another photo.

And this time — Kael didn't check the screen.

He didn't need to.

He stepped back.

Let the camera hang there, still pointed at me.

The maids didn't look at me, but I did. And one of them was Mira.

They just packed the equipment with professional silence.

Kael turned his head slightly.

"Leave it," he said.

And they did.

They walked out without a word.

Leaving the tripod there.

Pointed at me like a loaded gun.

The door shut again.

And I was alone with him.

Still bent.

Still bound.

Still bare.

Still… photographed.

I didn't realize I'd stopped breathing until he moved again.

Not toward me.

Not away.

Just one slow step to the side.

No voice.

No threat.

No release.

The tripod still stood behind me, aimed like a witness. The flash was off. The lens dark. But I still felt its eye — like something had been left behind in that machine, some phantom echo of the girl it had just captured.

Me.

I stayed frozen in place.

Arched. Knees spread. Wrists burning in the cuffs. The collar chafing against the hollow of my throat.

The only sounds were my breath and the subtle, quiet shift of Kael's boots across the floor. No rush. No command. Just pacing. Like he had nowhere else to be.

Like watching me like this was the final piece of the ritual.

I tried to speak.

Tried to ask.

For what, I didn't even know.

But my mouth opened — and nothing came out.

Not a sound.

My throat had dried up. My body was buzzing, hollow, hot with leftover adrenaline. And shame.

God, the shame was alive inside me.

I wanted to cover myself.

Curl into something small and invisible.

But I was still locked wide, still forced open like an offering someone had forgotten to clean up after the ceremony.

My head sagged.

Kael stopped pacing.

I felt him behind me again.

I flinched.

But he didn't touch me.

He just stood there.

Quiet.

Watching.

"Don't pretend," he said finally, voice like slate. "That you didn't feel it."

My fingers clenched uselessly.

He leaned forward, breath brushing the curve of my spine.

"You'll think about this later. In your bed. Alone. I know the look your body gave me. I've seen it before."

My lips parted. I almost whispered no.

But even that would've given him more than I had left.

He moved away.

I heard the shift of cloth — his coat. The faint click of the cell key.

For a heartbeat, I thought he might unlock the restraints.

Let me down.

Let me crawl away.

But he didn't.

Instead — he walked to the door.

Opened it.

Paused.

And said, without turning back, "You'll remain here until someone's ordered to clean you up. Not before."

Then—

He left.

The door closed with a sound so final, I thought the world outside it had disappeared.

Gone.

And I—

I sagged forward in the chains.

Not because I wanted to.

Because my body gave up.

The cold stone pressed to my skin. My cheeks were wet. I hadn't even felt the tears falling.

And when the silence filled the chamber again, I didn't scream.

Didn't beg.

Didn't speak.

I just let it happen.

Let the stillness wrap around me.

Let the last of my dignity break in silence.

Because no one was coming.