Phoebe's POV
The shower kept running, mixing with my tears and blood, but the cold didn't touch me anymore.
Hollow. Used. Dead inside.
I watched my blood swirl down the drain with the water, my mind blank.
Even fear had abandoned me.
Perry was gone. After he finished with me, he'd stormed from the bathroom, leaving me shattered on the tiles.
Time meant nothing as I sat there, cold water beating down on me, until Mason's scream pierced the silence.
"My lady, are you okay?" Mason rushed to me, dropping to her knees as she shut off the water. "Come on, get up. You'll catch pneumonia sitting here."
Everything blurred after that. Mason's gentle care amazed me.
She wept while cleaning the blood from my skin, tending to the bite marks on my breast, hip, and arms.
The wounds would scar, joining the one on my neck, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I kept staring at the ceiling.
"Should I get the healer?" Mason muttered, more to herself than me.
