Xira POV
The violet dress sat on the velvet chaise like a bruised wound. It was beautiful, expensive, and a complete mockery of my status.
I looked from the gown to Cassia, whose face was lit with a triumphant, sickly glow.
"I'm not going to wear that," I spat at her, my voice trembling but sharp. "You can't make me. You can dress me up, but you can't make me walk into a room full of monsters and pretend to be one of your trinkets."
Cassia didn't flinch. Instead, she walked forward slowly, her movements languid and predatory.
She made sure she stepped in a way that made her crimson dress dance around her legs, the silk rustling like the sound of dry leaves in a graveyard.
She wanted me to see her power; she wanted me to see the "Luna" she had become while I was rotting in a hole.
"You will do exactly as I say," she explained in a voice so soft it was almost a caress.
