Written on December 11th, 2018

C H A P T E R  4

The sound of the warm water filling the bath in front of Tara, is a sound she never expected to hear again. Large amounts of foam fill the tub and a bit of steam comes off the water due to its hot temperature.

The hairs on Tara's naked body stand up from the cold, getting goosebumps all over, but she doesn't care about that. She carefully dangles her right hand above the water. Completely enjoying the peace that the bath radiates for her, she is busy with nothing other than preparing for the warm - and clean - water that will touch her body again after years.

Tara sits on the edge of the bathtub. She slowly pulls one leg up and dips her toes into the water one by one. Even though it is too hot and almost painful, Tara continues with her movements. Both her legs are now underwater and the water is right below her knees.

It doesn't take long before Tara is completely underwater. With her nose and eyes squeezed shut, she tries to stay in this position as long as possible. The peace that hangs in the bathroom, unknown to Tara, does her good. It is the first time in years that she does not feel a negative emotion rushing through her body for a few moments.

The serene feeling she has disappears like snow before the sun the moment she surfaces again. Water flows in streams over her face and causes her to keep her eyes closed just a little longer than necessary. The black darkness that embraces her feels familiar and good.

Once her eyes are open, Tara looks around the bathroom. In front of her, on a small and modest side table, are some soaps and bottles. Along with a sponge that she can use to scrub the dirt from her body. Tara moves quietly in the water and makes her way to the sponge.

She immerses it underwater and then takes a bottle filled with lavender soap. She just manages to open the cap, which makes her really start to notice how much strength she has lost in her hands - just like the rest of her body - over the years.

The intense scent of the purple plant permeates Tara's nostrils. This makes her unexpectedly emotional; She hasn't smelled something so nice in a long time. She eagerly wipes her entire body with the sponge, squeezing a new load of soap onto it every so often.

Her hair does not remain untouched; although it's almost impossible to save. So far as possible, Tara puts shampoo and conditioner in it, but it doesn't seem to help anything. While this would have been a tragedy for many girls her age, Tara doesn't care. She also knows that her appearance is not what it once was. Besides, her appearance no longer matters. At the moment, how she looks and presents herself is one of her last concerns.

While enjoying the time being able to spend in the tub, Tara is unaware that someone has entered the bathroom. Only when the person coughs softly, Tara notices and she freezes completely. She immediately feels the stranger's eyes burning into her back and all the peace she had felt for a short amount of time has left her body again.

Tara doesn't have the courage to turn around and see who can see her in her most vulnerable form. She remains tense and stays in the same position. Goosebumps spread over her limbs. Tara tries to make herself as small as possible in the bathtub.

There is another soft cough, as a subtle hint that Tara is expected to turn around. The obedient girl in Tara would like nothing more than to do as she is told, but because of the fear that fills her veins, she cannot do anything other than what she already does.

'Miss?' a soft female voice begins cautiously. A slight hesitation can be heard in her voice. A tone that Tara does not recognize and therefore does not notice. 'Miss?' the same woman repeats again. This time with more power and authority in her voice. 'Miss, can you turn around?'

It is upon hearing a clear order that Tara finally regains some control over herself and does what is asked of her. With her head hanging down and her eyes focused on the water in the tub, she sits with her back to the wall. The woman standing opposite Tara cannot suppress a startled cry.

Embarrassed, she covers her mouth with her hand and immediately apologizes. 'My apologies miss, I didn't mean it that way,' she explains. An explanation that goes in one ear and out the other for Tara. 'It's just-,' she hesitates, 'I haven't seen anyone with scars like that before.'

Shaking her head, the woman moves closer to the edge of the bathtub. Tara allows it and remains seated, not moving. Only her eyes move with where the woman moves her. 'I was sent to help,' the woman continues. 'To check if everything went well and how much longer you would need.'

The words that the woman speaks barely reaches Tara's mind and are barely - if at all - processed. It is only when the woman makes contact with Tara's skin with her hand, that life finally seems to return to Tara. She almost jumps backwards, as if stung by a bee. This is followed by a loud – and painful – bang against the wall.

Tara clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut as tight as she can. She continues to wait for a hand to lash out at her cheek or some other kind of punishment that she deserves for her fearful behavior. But no matter how long Tara waits, the blow doesn't follow.

'Miss, if you're so far away, I can't help,' the woman notes. She completely ignores the way Tara reacts. The maid - looking like she is in her mid-50s – isn't surprised. The ladies she has seen passing by her Alpha all reacted as shyly as the ones in front of her. The only thing that sets this Latina apart from others is the degree of her scars.

As soon as Tara has crawled a little closer, the woman takes the sponge from her and grabs her by the upper arm. Without explaining anything to Tara, she starts thoroughly moving the sponge up and down Tara's back. The dirt that Tara has not yet reached is gradually being swept away.

'My name is Sigrid,' the woman continues chatting, hoping to get something out of the girl. That was just part of her job. But as expected, Tara doesn't respond to her, except with a small nod. She softly tries out the name: 'Sigrid,' she whispers. 'Unique name,' Tara adds hoarsely.

A small smile appears on Sigrid's slightly wrinkled face. 'It's not too bad,' she admits. 'But there are already four others in the Pack with that name.' Tara makes a small "oh" with her mouth and is silent again.

'The Alpha wants to see you later,' Sigrid continues, hoping not to let the conversation come to a complete dead end. Once again there is little to no response from Tara. At least, no visible reactions. Tara's mind begins to flood with thousands of thoughts as well as questions.

The Alpha? What will he do with her? Why did he bring her here? Where is this anyway? Despite the many questions that seem most important to many outsiders, Tara's biggest question is really: What if I disappointed the masters of the Pugna Vincula?

Fearful of what is to come, Tara visibly shrinks. Once again Sigrid says nothing and acts like she didn't notices Tara her physical reaction to her words. She continues without a bother with scrubbing Tara's dirty and bad skin. Almost every inch is covered with either a scar or a sickening blue – purple, greenish, yellowish – spot.

'Time to get out of the bath,' Sigrid announces abruptly. She immediately gets up and gradually pulls Tara up with her. As gentle as a rock, Tara follows all orders that Sigrid gives her. This leaves no time for Tara to feel embarrassed to be completely naked in front of a stranger.

Wrapped only in a white towel, Tara looks with big – questioning – eyes at Sigrid waiting to hear what she wants from her now. Sigrid gestures with her hands for Tara to turn her around. As a result, Tara does not see Sigrid take out a pair of scissors and untangle Tara's hair.

Strand after strand falls to the ground, until the hair barely reaches Tara's shoulders. In Sigrid's opinion, this was desperately needed, which means Tara is already more presentable than before. Sigrid can only hope for her Alpha's approval. This rarely happens, which is why many Pack members try desperately to be seen in a positive light by their leader.

'Turn around,' orders Sigrid. With a critical look, consisting of furrowed eyebrows and lips in a thin line, Sigrid looks at the girl in front of her from head to toe. There's some mumbling coming from her mouth, but nothing clearly audible or making any sense.

'I brought you some clothes, seeing as the rags you were wearing were really done.' Sigrid has to stand on her toes to reach the top of a white cupboard. As announced, she takes a pile of clothes from there. The colors of the fabrics are mainly blue and brownish.

'No idea what your measurements are, not that it really matters; anything that covers skin is fine.' Sigrid puts the pile of things down and starts looking through it. Every now and then she pulls something out, holds it next to Tara and then shakes her head. It is often followed by words like "too big" and "this won't fit".

After having five shirts and three pairs of sweatpants, Sigrid's patience has run out. She throws the first and best shirt she sees at Tara's head. Her slow reaction prevents her from catching it, and the shirt ends up over her head. 'Well, go, put this on. The Alpha doesn't like to wait.' With a stressed undertone, Sigrid gestures for Tara to hurry up.

Without wearing underwear, something Tara doesn't think about since her capture by the Pugna Vincula, she puts on the shirt - which is way too big. It falls around her body like an ugly garbage bag. It's the same story with the sweatpants: They're way too wide. It drops quite a bit from her hips. This creates small blushes on Tara's sunken cheeks.

She knows very well that her will is completely irrelevant – or important – but despite everything she has been through, she still has an ounce of self-respect. Tara would prefer to say she doesn't want to go to the Alpha who saves her from the Pugna Vincula in sagging pants.

Tara does not dare to express this thought: She is grateful that she is given clean, whole clothes in the first place. That she was able to sit in a warm bath and wash herself clean after four years. Tara could smack herself for thinking this ungrateful thought.

Luckily for her, Sigrid thinks the same. 'No, this is absolutely not an option. You can't be standing in front of the Alpha with pants that will suddenly fall off. No, no, no,' the woman disappears from the bathroom, shaking her head.