When Stylus returned he had with him an old man, and carried a box.
He looked over at Ana with amusement. “Did you scream yourself hoarse?” He put the box down on the table and took a bottle of water out from it. He wandered over to her as the old man rummaged in the box and started setting things out.
Ana looked at the bottle of water and licked her lips. Her throat burned from the amount of screaming she had done, but no one had come to her rescue.
Stylus looked with a frown at her wrist with the cuff round it. He snatched it up and held it, looking at the bruising and the blood, from where Ana had tried and tried to get her hand to slip through it, cutting into her flesh until it bled.
“Tsk, little Ana…don’t waste it…” Stylus purred and then licked her wrist. Ana tried to pull her a
