A show

As Morgan stood there, alone in the room, the events of the day began to catch up with her. The sheer absurdity of everything—the elders’ demands, the ridiculousness of the ritual, and Alex’s confident assertion that they could fake it all—left her feeling a strange mix of disbelief and frustration.

Moments later, there was a soft knock on the door. Before she could respond, it creaked open, and three maids entered, their eyes downcast as they moved with practiced precision. Morgan watched them warily, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can bathe myself, you know," she said, trying to sound firm, though the weariness in her voice betrayed her.

One of the maids, a petite woman with kind eyes, stepped forward and offered a gentle smile. "We know, Luna Morgan, but it’s part of the ceremony. The bathing ritual is an important tradition, and we wouldn’t want to break it. Please, allow us to do our part."

Staring at their faces, Morgan hesitated, her annoyance wavering as she looked into the maid’s earnest expression. After a moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. "Fine, but make it quick," she muttered, more to herself than to them.

The maids moved with efficiency, guiding her to the ornate tub in the corner of the room. The water was warm, the scent of lavender and jasmine filling the air, soothing her nerves slightly. As they gently washed her body, Morgan tried to push away the unease gnawing at her, focusing instead on the feel of the warm water and the soft touch of their hands.

When the bath was over, the maids dried her off with soft towels before dressing her in a gown that was far more revealing than anything she would have chosen for herself. The fabric was delicate, sheer in places, and it clung to her curves in a way that made her feel exposed. There was nothing underneath—no pantie or bra between her skin and the thin material.

subconsciously glancing over at her reflection in the mirror, Morgan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she forced herself to stand tall as the maids finished their work. They stepped back, admiring their handiwork with quiet approval.

"You look beautiful, Luna Morgan," the petite maid said with a soft smile, her voice sincere.

As they looked at her proudly, Morgan forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks," she muttered, her tone flat. She couldn’t help but feel like she was being dressed up for a role she never wanted to play.

Just as the maids were gathering their things to leave, there was another knock on the door. This time, it was Alex. He stepped inside, his eyes sweeping over her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. His gaze lingered on her for just a moment too long, and Morgan felt her cheeks heat up again under his scrutiny.

"Leave us," Alex commanded, his tone firm as he sized her with his calm gaze.

The maids exchanged glances before offering Morgan a respectful nod and quietly filing out of the room. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Morgan alone with Alex. The air between them was thick with tension, the kind that made her pulse quicken for reasons she wasn't entirely sure of.

Crossing her hands in front of her to cover up, Morgan met his gaze, trying to steady her breathing.

"This is ridiculous," she blurted out, her frustration boiling over. "I don’t even know what we’re supposed to be doing. How are we going to convince them of anything when I don’t even believe it myself?"

Although her eyes hardened at him, Morgan's pulse pounded in her ears as Alex’s gaze locked onto hers, his presence suddenly much too close for comfort. Before she could say anything, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder with each passing second. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized who it was. The elders.

'You are a virgin as I thought,' He mumbled in his head, lowering his gaze to her lips.

A muffled voice from behind the door confirmed her fear. “It’s time. Begin the ritual,” an elder’s voice called out, laced with authority and expectation.

Darting her eyes as her lashes fluttered, Morgan’s heart raced, panic bubbling up inside her. She looked at Alex, her eyes wide with desperation.

“What do we do?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Even though she was freaking out, Alex didn’t flinch, his expression remaining calm and collected. He stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “Listen to me, Morgan,” he whispered, his tone carrying a strange mix of urgency and reassurance. “Whatever I do, whatever happens next, don’t fight me on it. Just go with it, okay?”

Lost of words, Morgan’s throat tightened as his words sank in. She searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, but all she found was an unwavering confidence.

When she nodded slightly, Alex’s hands found their way to her waist, his touch firm yet surprisingly gentle. He pulled her close, their bodies pressed together in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Morgan’s breath hitched as his lips brushed against her ear, causing her to twitch and he smirked faintly.

“This is just for show,” he whispered, his voice soft but carrying a weight that made her stomach flip. “But we need to make it look real.”

Pulling back to stare into his eyes, Morgan held her breath. The thin fabric of her gown did nothing to shield her from the intensity of the moment, and she could feel every contour of his body pressed against hers.

“Relax,” Alex murmured, his breath warm against her neck. “Trust me and just let me lead.”

"I don't... I don't think I can." Morgan whispered.

The elders gathered outside the door and exchanged concerned glances as the room remained unnervingly quiet. Elder Roderick’s brow furrowed with suspicion, his voice low but laced with authority.

"Do you hear that? It’s too quiet," he said, casting a glance toward Elder Frances and Elder Theo. "Maybe she was just biting off more than she could chew earlier. After everything, there's no way they can go through with it with the brutal history we shared."