Like his prisoner that she was, he bound her wrist, behind her, a deep red blindfold, coating her eyes, blocking out the sight of everything and anything.

Alora's lower lips was cages between her teeth as she sat on the table he placed her on, the dining room table.

The clattering sounds of plates faking and cups breaking signified the clearance of the table and Alora couldn't help but feel more tensed.

Her small toes curled, and her fingers intertwined in its bound, her heartbeat racing ...