Bound by Shadows

Chapter 6

### Chapter 6: The Transformation Begins

Ronan stepped back, a sinister smile playing on his lips as he observed Adira. The room was cold and sterile, equipped with everything necessary for the transformation he intended to impose upon her. Adira could see the large mirror hanging on the wall, reflecting her disheveled appearance, and the sight made her heart sink. She looked like a shell of her former self, the vibrant astronomer reduced to a frightened girl in a dirty, torn dress.

“Let’s begin,” Ronan said, clapping his hands together, a signal for the two women who had been silently waiting in the shadows to step forward. They wore identical expressions of grim determination, their eyes filled with an unsettling mix of pity and resignation.

Adira took a step back, instinctively wanting to escape, but the door behind her was firmly shut. She was trapped, and she knew it. “What do you want from me?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound strong.

“Relax, darling. This is just a makeover, nothing more,” Ronan replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. “We need to make you presentable for the auction. You’re going to fetch a good price, but only if you look the part.”

Adira felt a surge of anger rise within her. “I’m not an object! You can’t just sell me!” she yelled, the desperation in her voice evident.

Ronan’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more menacing expression. “Oh, but you are. That’s exactly what you are now—a commodity. And commodities must be polished and primed for sale.”

The women moved closer, their expressions hardening as they prepared to begin. One of them, a tall woman with dark hair and piercing green eyes, approached Adira with a pair of scissors. “Hold still,” she instructed, her tone clipped. “We need to get rid of this mess.”

Adira’s heart raced as the scissors gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights. She could see the reflection of her fear in the mirror, the way her eyes widened as the woman drew nearer. “Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded, shaking her head.

Ignoring her protests, the woman began cutting away at her hair, snipping off the tangled strands that had once cascaded down her back. Adira felt a pang of loss as each lock fell to the floor. This was more than just hair; it was a symbol of her freedom, her identity.

“Your hair needs to reflect your new status,” Ronan said, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he observed the transformation with a cruel satisfaction. “A blank slate, ready for a fresh start—one that won’t involve fighting back.”

Adira gritted her teeth, refusing to let him see how much this affected her. The woman continued to work, and soon, Adira’s long hair was reduced to a short, uneven bob that framed her face. It felt strange, foreign, and she couldn’t help but feel more vulnerable.

“Now for the makeup,” the second woman said, her voice softer than her companion’s. “We want you to look alluring—mysterious even.”

Adira remained silent, knowing any further resistance would only lead to harsher treatment. The women applied makeup with swift, practiced movements, covering her pale skin with layers of foundation and eyeshadow. Adira watched in horror as her reflection began to change. The girl staring back at her was a stranger—someone who looked far more vulnerable than she ever wanted to be.

“Perfect,” Ronan said, his satisfaction palpable. “Now, let’s talk about your clothes.”

Adira felt her stomach drop as Ronan motioned for a rack of clothing that had been positioned against the wall. Each piece seemed designed to expose rather than cover, the fabrics thin and revealing. Adira’s heart raced as she recognized the type of clothing intended for women who would be on display—objects meant for others’ pleasure.

“No!” she shouted, feeling a surge of defiance. “I won’t wear those! You can’t make me!”

Ronan stepped closer, his expression darkening. “You’ll wear what I tell you to wear. This isn’t a negotiation; this is your new reality. You have two choices: comply, or face the consequences.”

The women moved to the rack and began selecting outfits. Adira felt her resolve weaken as they held up various garments, each one more revealing than the last. She couldn’t understand how they could act so casually, as if this was just a job, not a violation of a human being.

Finally, they settled on a dress—a short, form-fitting piece made of shimmering fabric that clung to her body in a way that made her feel exposed. Adira couldn’t look at herself in the mirror as she reluctantly put it on, her cheeks burning with shame.

Ronan’s eyes roamed over her, a smirk growing on his face. “Now that’s more like it. You look ready to impress your new owners.”

Adira’s heart sank. She felt trapped, like a pawn in a twisted game where she had no power.

As the women finished their work, Ronan clapped his hands together once more. “Now, the final touch,” he said, reaching for a collar—thick, leather, and adorned with sharp spikes. “Every item comes with a price, Adira. This will remind you of your place in this world.”

Adira’s breath caught in her throat as he fastened the collar around her neck, the weight of it a cruel reminder of her new reality. She fought back tears, determined to maintain a façade of strength.

“Welcome to your new life,” Ronan said, his voice dripping with mockery. “Let’s see how well you adapt.”

As Adira looked at her reflection, the girl staring back seemed so different from who she used to be. She felt a wave of despair wash over her. But deep within her, a flicker of hope still remained. If she could survive this, she might find a way to escape, to reclaim her life and her identity.