Lyra had lost count of the days.
The endless cycle of darkness in her cell had numbed her senses, but the cold, sharp bite of pain reminded her she was still alive. Each passing hour was a reminder that she was Kael's prisoner, his plaything, trapped in a world where he dictated everything-her pain, her freedom, even her mind.
Today, though, something felt different.
The door opened, but instead of Kael's slow, measured steps, it was two pack guards who entered, their faces void of emotion as they approached her. Without a word, they unlocked her chains and dragged her to her feet. She struggled instinctively, but their grip was iron, and she was too weak to resist. Her body, battered and starved, offered no real fight as they hauled her out of the cell and down the stone corridor.
The walls seemed to close in on her as they led her into the heart of Kael's stronghold. Her pulse quickened with every step, her stomach twisting with dread. Where were they taking her?
The guards stopped outside a large, steel door and shoved it open, revealing a dimly lit chamber. The walls were lined with tools -chains, ropes, instruments of torture. Lyra's breath caught in her throat as they pushed her inside. Her mind raced, but she couldn't deny what this place was meant for.
Waiting in the center of the room, seated casually in a dark leather chair, was Kael. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes gleamed with predatory intent. The door slammed shut behind her, trapping her in the room with him.
"Bring her here," Kael ordered, his voice smooth and calm, as if this was just another day in his world of cruelty.
The guards dragged Lyra to the center of the room and forced her to her knees in front of him. Her wrists were still bound in front of her, the metal biting into her skin. She gritted her teeth, refusing to let any fear show, even as her heart pounded with the knowledge that whatever was about to happen would push her to her limits.
Kael stood and stepped toward her, his boots echoing against the stone floor. He crouched down in front of her, his hand tilting her chin up so their eyes met. There was no warmth in his gaze, only cold, calculating dominance.
"You've been resisting me," he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over her bruised jaw. "But I think it's time to teach you what happens when you defy me."
Lyra spat at him, the only act of rebellion she had left. The spit landed on his cheek, and for a moment, everything went still.
Kael wiped his face slowly, his eyes narrowing with a dark, simmering rage. "You'll regret that."
Before she could react, his hand lashed out, striking her across the face. The force of the blow sent her sprawling to the floor, pain exploding through her skull. She gasped, the taste of blood filling her mouth, but she bit down on the inside of her cheek, refusing to cry out.
Kael stood over her, his presence towering, suffocating. "Take her to the table," he ordered the guards.
The men grabbed her arms and dragged her to the metal table in the center of the room. Lyra's heart raced as they strapped her down, her wrists and ankles secured by thick leather restraints. Panic surged through her, but she fought to keep it buried, fought to maintain some semblance of control in the face of what was coming.
Kael stood by the table, watching her with a cold, clinical detachment. He moved to one of the walls, selecting a thin, gleaming blade from the array of tools hanging there. He held it up, examining the sharp edge in the dim light before turning back to her.Pain has a way of breaking people," he said softly, almost to himself. "But for you, I think it will be more than that. It will be a reminder. A reminder that you're mine, no matter how much you fight."
Lyra's breath came in shallow gasps as Kael approached the table, the blade glinting in his hand. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to resist, but her body was immobilized by the restraints, leaving her vulnerable beneath him.
He hovered over her, his eyes scanning her body as if she were an object to be dissected, a puzzle to be solved. He set the blade down for a moment, his hands moving to the hem of her shirt, tearing it open, exposing the bare skin beneath. The cold air of the chamber sent a shiver through her, but it was nothing compared to the fear that coursed through her veins.
Kael picked up the blade again, his eyes locking with hers as he pressed the cold metal to her skin, just above her collarbone. The sharp edge barely grazed her flesh, but the threat was clear. He. could cut deeper at any moment, draw blood, make her scream.
But she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She wouldn't scream.
Kael's eyes darkened as he watched her, his fingers pressing the blade harder into her skin, enough to break the surface. A thin line of blood welled up along the cut, and Lyra bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. The pain was sharp, but manageable. She'd endured worse. She could survive this.
But Kael wasn't done.
He dragged the blade slowly across her chest, leaving a trail of shallow cuts in its wake. Each slice sent a wave of pain rippling through her, but Lyra remained silent, her jaw clenched, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. She wouldn't let him see her break.
Kael paused, his gaze lingering on her face, watching her reactions with unsettling fascination. "You're stronger than I expected, he murmured, his voice laced with a dark kind of admiration. "But I wonder how long that strength will last."
He set the blade aside and leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear. "You think you can resist me," he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "But I've broken stronger wolves than you."
Lyra's heart hammered in her chest, her pulse racing as Kael's hand slid down her body, his fingers tracing the cuts he'd made. His touch was light, almost tender, but the intent behind it was anything but. He wanted her to feel powerless, to know that every part of her-her mind, her body- was under his control.
"You'll beg for me before this is over," he promised, his voice a dark, cruel caress. "I guarantee it."
Lyra's chest tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, the pain, the fear, the exhaustion threatening to pull her under.But she wouldn't beg. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
Kael straightened, his eyes still fixed on her as he nodded to the guards. "Leave us," he commanded.
The guards hesitated for a moment before nodding and exiting the room, leaving Lyra alone with Kael. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as he approached the table again, his hand trailing over the leather straps that held her down.
"You've been difficult, Lyra," he said softly, his fingers brushing over her exposed skin. "But I think it's time you learn that there are consequences for disobedience."
He leaned down, his lips grazing her throat as he whispered, "And I'm going to enjoy every second of teaching you.