The morning after Lady Ondine Bellerose's… comprehensive education… in the art of submission, Alaric was the picture of magnanimous composure. He had escorted her back to her temporary chambers within the Sunken Pearl Estate, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary on her waist as he bid her a good morning, a silent reminder of the night's events and her new, unbreakable bond to him.
Ondine, though her body ached with a delicious soreness that made her walk with a subtle, almost imperceptible stiffness, had managed to project an air of renewed, albeit subdued, confidence. The raw terror and humiliation had faded, replaced by a cold, pragmatic acceptance and a burgeoning, twisted sort of excitement. She had faced a true predator, been utterly broken, and in that breaking, found a strange clarity. Alaric Steele was a force to be reckoned with, and aligning with him, even as his… possession… was far more advantageous than opposing him.
