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of people who would attack someone. Maybe a criminal had broken inside. But he seemed too strong to be just one human. Who was this and what did he want from her? Was she going to die?
    He lifted her dress and immediately tears flowed down her face. No, he couldn't possibly want that. She refused to give it up to a stranger. She beat her fists against the floor and tried to crawl away. She deserved to keep this one thing after all she'd lost.
    The smell of the sea overwhelmed her and made it hard to breathe. He was pinning her down so tightly that she couldn't move forward. His skin was slick and covered in sand. It tingled where he touched her as power radiated off him. Much taller than a normal man would be, he could crush her with his bare hands.
    His erection was huge. As it pressed against her entrance, she wondered how it would be possible for him to fit it inside. She begged for him not to do it, imagining the blood that would result, but he ignored her. It felt as if he was ripping her in half as he filled her up. He might as well have been pummeling her with a knife. Her hymen broke, a tiny tear, but it ricocheted throughout her abdomen. His grunts were loud and his thrusts were deep.
    She bit and clawed at his hands, but he took no notice. In fact, she was pretty sure that the more she fought him, the more he was turned on. She wished he would hurry and finish so that it could all be over. She wasn't sure she could make it through the whole thing alive and kept picturing her mother's disapproving face. Ceto had warned her that she could get hurt, but she hadn't listened. Was this whole thing her fault?
    With one last moan, he finished. He left her with a mess of sex juices and blood dripping down her thighs. She ached too much to move and get a glimpse of his face before he disappeared, but she had a feeling he would be gone anyway, even if she had been quick.
    The one thing she valued-her virginity-had been stolen from her like everything else. Her body trembled all over and she thought about searching for the knives the priestesses used to perform sacrifices and cut herself with them. Or maybe she could still find the man and kill him. She couldn't do it, though. It was too much effort.
    She lay there for what felt like an eternity and once her legs stopped shaking, she stood. She winced and almost fell over as she tried to walk. She had to grip the wall to make any progress. She was leaving all the evidence of the attack behind. She wanted to clean it and make it go away, but she didn't have the energy or tools to do so.
    When she finally got back to Bartholomew's room, she blew the candle out and lay on the hay. Her eyes were stuck wide open and she couldn't breathe, even as she rested her head. She wanted to light the candle again, so she could see what was happening in the room, but the two of them could get angry with her. She was scared the man would return and rape her again. Her two roommates would probably try to protect her, but that being had been strong and what if they couldn't fight him off? What if he covered her mouth and was so quiet that they heard nothing?
    She contemplated waking them, but wondered whether they would blame her for what had happened. Bartholomew knew she was a prostitute, after all. Maybe he'd make a joke and say she was probably just upset because he hadn't paid her or yell at her for wandering the temple alone. She couldn't take that.
    She wanted to tell the authorities, but knew that would help nothing. Being in the temple, in a man's room, was illegal. She'd be the one punished rather than the mysterious man who had hurt her.
    She hiccupped as she cried. It wasn't fair. She was ruined and possibly pregnant. She made bad decision after bad decision and she'd be suffering on the streets soon for all of them.
    Medy eventually drifted off to sleep and morning came too quickly. She begged Bartholomew and Cithara for permission to make a sacrifice in front of Athena's statue.