The dog's breath is warm and wet on her ankle. Seven lies on the floor, cheek pressed to the carpet, her branded thigh throbbing beneath her. Above her, the bed creaks—Eight's weight settling into the mattress, claws scratching once at the sheets before going still. The smell of the stray rises from the dog's matted coat: wet fur, dirt, something sour and animal.

Her stepfather stands at the foot of the bed. The lamp catches the dark hair on his chest. His cock is already out, half-hard, the purple head glossy under the light.