Chapter 12 Feed Her Himself
- Elara POV
- Marga’s touch was warm, her ministrations routine. Every time I was brutalized or broken, Marga was there to mend the physical shell, never the soul. My head was lowered, shielded by the curtain of my hair, but my eyes were vacant, fixed on the bloodstain on the ruined linen.
- “He took everything. Everything.”