FicWad

I looked up as the door opened hours later, Circe entered the room, followed by a maid. The maid was carrying a long flowing white dress and I sneered.
“White for the sacrificial lamb?” I asked, but Circe ignored me, motioning for the maid to hang the dress on the back of the closet.
She walked over and sat on the bed next to me.
“Chalise,” she said softly, taking my hand. “Why make this so hard on yourself? This is your destiny, embrace it.”
She smiled at me, “we could be friends you know,” she said softly.
I glared at her, pulling my hand away.
“I’d rather be friends with a rattlesnake,” I said softly, and her smile faded.
“Fine,” she said, standing up, “be that way.”
She got up and began to walk toward the door.
“Piero expects you dressed within the hour,” she said, turning and looking at me. “There’s a party tonight.”
“Fine,” I said, staring at her, “give me my clothes and I will.”
I looked at the white dress with disdain.
“I’m a merchant of death,” I said, “and I will dress like one.”
Circe walked back toward me, “if you’re not dressed,” she said softly, “in the clothes I have so thoughtfully provided for you. Then it will prove to be very harmful for your human. Every moment of resistance, every second of trouble, will be taken out on him.”
She smirked at me, “think about that,” she said, “I’m coming back in a hour. If you’re not dressed and ready. Well then, Peter will be dragged before the guests and punished.”
“You’re a cold hearted bitch Circe,” I said and she laughed.
“I never said otherwise Chalise,” she said, then turned and walked to the door. “One hour,” was all she said, then she left.

I knew I had no choice, I let the maid who had stood silently through the exchange, dress me and do my hair. She provided white shoes, from the closet, then silently slipped through the door, leaving me alone.
I stared at my reflection, and I realized, I had no idea who I was anymore.
I turned when the door opened and Piero stepped in, he was dressed in a black suit, his blonde hair slicked back. I stared at him, and thought even though he looked handsome, all I could feel for him was loathing.
“You look lovely my dear,” he said, walking up and kissing my shoulder.
I pulled away from him in disgust.
“I’m ready,” I said, “within the hour, like you ordered.”
He smiled, choosing to hear, or not recognizing the sarcasm in my voice.
“One last thing,” he said, turning me around again, and putting an amulet around my neck.
“My crest,” he breathed in my ear, “it will mark you as mine. So that the other immortals here tonight will know you’re taken.”
He turned me around again, and kissed me, pulling me toward him.
I shuddered at his kiss, feeling nothing but coldness and revulsion, my mind silently calling out for Peter.
He finally broke the kiss, and smiled.
“One day,” he promised, “you’ll gladly kiss me back, you’ll beg me to take you.”
I smiled back at him, “and when that day comes,” I said softly. “Pigs will tap dance, and you’ll also be crowned Miss America.”
His smile faded and he suddenly backhanded me.
“Never speak to me like that again,” he said, as I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth. “You will respect me.”
He grasped my hand in a bruising grip and pulled be toward the door so hard I stumbled.
“You will not speak,” he said, “if anyone chooses to speak to you, I will answer the questions.”
He glared at me, “is that clear?” He asked and I flipped him off.
He stopped, pushing me against the wall.
“One more stunt like that,” he snarled, “one more show of rebellion, and I will flog the skin off your human’s back. Do you understand me?”
I nodded, trying not to scare, refusing to show this man my tears.
He smiled, “good,” he said, then took my arm, leading me out of the room, like nothing had happened.