Sophia wasn’t sure just how long Alexander had kept her alone for, but her throat felt raw and dry, her mouth parched and aching for the salty seawater that she hadn’t so much as tasted for weeks. With each day that went by, she could feel herself growing weaker and weaker, and the events of last night hadn’t helped in the slightest. Captain Barrett had left her bruised, battered, and bloodied, and it was almost as if he was purposely leaving her alone for so long just so that he could force her to revel in the helplessness of the situation he had forcefully put her in. She couldn’t help but worry about the wounds on her inner thighs…they were easily the worst out of them all, and without proper medical attention, she feared that they would become infected—after all, it wasn’t as if a pirate ship was the cleanest and most hygienic place to be held prisoner, and without her ability to heal herself, Sophia knew that she needed to be allowed to be allowed to tend to the bloodied welts that had been left upon the creamy skin of her inner thighs, and soon, before it was too late for her to do so. She hated feeling so dependent upon Alexander, and she could only assume that he knew that she was waiting for him to return, just so that she could beg and plead to be unshackled and given permission to disappear into the bathroom where she would bathe herself until she had thoroughly rinsed away the sensation of him from her skin.
However, he still didn’t return, and Sophia grew more and more fretful with each moment that passed. She whimpered softly as she attempted to struggle against her confines, but even the slightest of movements caused her wounds to cry out in protest, and she quickly realized that she wouldn’t be going anywhere until Alexander gave her permission to do so. Neptune, she…she hated feeling as if her life was tied to his—he determined whether she lived or died, and with each day she spent aboard his ship, Sophia’s suspicions that he planned on murdering and butchering her only strengthened until she was certain that he had every intention of killing her. Last night, that had been what had terrified her the most—that he had been so overwhelmed with rage that, in his attempt to punish her, he would end up going too far and slitting her throat as he had threatened to do so many times in the past. He was dangerously unpredictable, and that was merely one of the many reasons that being left tied up to his bed with welts and bruises left all over her body filled Sophia with nothing but immeasurable fear and dread.
Coming from outside of Alexander’s quarters, Sophia could hear what sounded like…some kind of commotion. Her eyes widened immediately, and her body reacted instinctively just in case it was her captor; her shoulders stiffened and her heart began to race within the confines of her chest at the thought of Lord Barrett returning to her. She knew that things between them would be worse than usual, and she wasn’t sure if he was finished teaching her a lesson just yet. He had told her that there would be no more whipping, but that had been the night before…everything could have been different come morning. Her trembling hands curled into themselves reflexively, and she did her best to make herself as small as possible on the bed that she had been chained to. If that was him, she would make it very clear that she had no intention of fighting him today…all that she wanted was to be unshackled and given the chance to tend to her wounds, and if that meant having to plead for the opportunity to do so, then…so be it.
With that in mind, Sophia swallowed past the heavy lump in her throat, and…she waited.
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