What did it take to break a woman?
Ophelia didn't know this kind of question existed. When Nathan was done with her, she lost track of time. She lost count of how many times she cried.
There were never physical wounds on her body. He made sure of that. She was starved under her stomach caved in, then he gave her moldy bread. She was drained until her skin clung to her bone, then he finally sold her.
When Ophelia had nothing to offer Nathan, he grabbed her by the throat and yanked her close.
"Why did your blood stop being useful?" he snarled, for he had just tested the newest sample. Nothing. Not even a flicker of healing. The scratch remained as it was.
Ophelia noticed with each passing day he kept her, his clothes became more lavish. She didn't know how many bottles he filled with her blood. She didn't even recognize her surroundings. Her mind was blank.
