Lyra crumbled to dust before Theodore Temlin's very eyes. The proud Bremmington was a shell of the girl she used to be, and the meek and terrified manner she carried herself with was a testament to the Geslack's powerful hold on her. He'd sunken his claws in deep and now she was putty in his hands. Engel had managed to melt her icy pride over the course of one night, had reduced her to a scared and pliable thing with so much as a thrust of his hips.<br/><br/>It was a dark and painful scene that unfolded right before Theo's eyes.<br/><br/>As Engel went on with his twisted performance, Lyra sat broken and ashamed, eyes trained onto the marble floor as the Geslack whispered in her ear. She burned hotly with hatred for him, but her fear for him was greater. Thoughts of the night prior (spent bloodied in his bed, impaled by his rigid limb as his weight pushed into her over and over again) left her immobile. She didn't fight, merely closed her eyes and tried to hide within her thoughts when he hiked up her dress and forcefully parted her thighs. She fought to close them, but Engel was stronger, and now that the dress was gone, she felt his clothed member pressing against her opening. It brought back memories of how violently he'd claimed her, how he'd managed to do it not once, but twice.<br/><br/>He'd already humiliated her in private, now he was doing the same in front of his servants and her only ally in this inescapable hell.<br/><br/>Lyra wished she could melt away like the very ice she controlled.<br/><br/><i>She begged me to stop.<br/>
</i><br/>Engel's words and the very feeling of his hand against her claimed womanhood finally brought warm tears to her eyes. She could still feel it, her body sinking into his sheets as he claimed her, the brutal slap of his hips against her as she fought, the warmth of his vile release. The memories came back with full force and the warm tears that had started to gather at the corners of her eyes began to trickle shamelessly down her pained face.<br/><br/>Theo's words and Engel's offer dragged her into hell once more. How could someone be so depraved and sick?<br/><br/>Even death would have been kinder than all of this. Even when Engel spoke, she was too petrified to find her voice. It took Lyra awhile to finally muster the energy to speak, and when she finally did, she sounded as if she'd been drained of all life and willpower.<br/><br/>"Please don't," the tears fell harder as she imagined all the twisted things Engel could force them to do. "No." Her voice broke. "Don't make him do it."