Lyra woke to the sound of her cell door scraping open again, the hinges groaning like an ominous warning. She hadn't seen the light of day in what felt like weeks. The walls of this stone prison had become her world-a world of cold, hunger, and pain. But worse than the physical torment was the creeping sense of helplessness. She hadn't cracked yet, but Kael's constant looming presence was an unrelenting pressure, wearing her down like the weight of chains she couldn't shake off.
Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light that spilled into the cell as Kael entered, his boots heavy against the stone floor. Every time he came in, she felt her pulse quicken, her body reacting to him in ways that made her hate herself.
She should be terrified. And she was. But there was something else, too-a forbidden pull that came with the way his eyes lingered over her, the way his voice slid over her like velvet Laced with dark promises. A part of her-small and shameful-was drawn to it, drawn to him, even as she tried to deny it.
Kael stood over her, his expression unreadable as he watched her, his dark eyes glittering in the low light. He hadn't said a word, but his presence filled the space, wrapping around her like a suffocating fog. She wanted to say something, to push back, to show him that he hadn't broken her. But her throat was dry, her voice caught somewhere between defiance and dread.
After what felt like an eternity, Kael finally spoke, his voice low, almost soft. "You look different today."
Lyra tensed, pulling herself up onto her knees, the chains rattling as she shifted. "What do you want?"
He crouched down to her level, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek, his fingers trailing down to her jaw. The touch was light, almost tender, but the intent behind it unwavering, and it sent a chill down her spine.
"I want you to understand something," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. "This is inevitable. You can fight all you want, but in the end, you'll belong to me."
Lyra swallowed hard, her heart racing in her chest. She tried to pull away, but his hand tightened around her jaw, holding her in place. The closeness of him-the heat of his body, the smell of him-was overwhelming, suffocating. But there was a part of her, deep down, that didn't want to pull away. A part that wanted to lean in, to let him take whatever he wanted. And that terrified her more than anything.
"I won't break," she whispered, though her voice lacked the strength she'd hoped for.
Kael smiled, a cruel, knowing smile. "You already are."
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "And I'm going to enjoy every second of it,Her breath hitched as his words slid over her skin like ice. He was playing with her, testing her limits, and every time she resisted, he seemed to take pleasure in pushing her further, deeper into the darkness she was trying so desperately to avoid.
Kael's hand moved from her jaw to her throat, his fingers curling around the delicate skin. He didn't squeeze, but the threat was there, hovering between them like a promise. His eyes bore into hers, dark and unrelenting, and she could feel the control he wielded over her, the way her body responded to him even when her mind screamed to fight.
But what terrified her most was the way she felt in that moment-the way she wanted him.
It was wrong. It was twisted. And yet, the heat that coiled low in her belly, the ache between her thighs, told her that some part of her was already his. Her body betrayed her even as she told herself she would never submit.
But was that really true anymore? Could she keep fighting this?
"You're trembling," Kael murmured, his voice soft but filled with dark satisfaction. His thumb traced her collarbone, sending a shiver through her. "You say you hate me, but your body tells a different story."
Lyra's lips parted, but no words came out. She hated him-hated the way he made her feel, the way he took away her control. But beneath the hate was something raw, something that twisted her insides with a sickening blend of fear and desire. She didn't want to feel this way. She didn't want to want him.
But she did.
And Kael knew it.
His hand slid lower, his fingers trailing down to the thin fabric of her shirt, brushing just above her breast. Her breath hitched, her puise pounding in her ears as he watched her, his gaze never leaving her face.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "Tell me to stop, and I will."
Lyra's throat tightened. Her body screamed at her to say it, to push him away, to stop this before it went any further. But the words wouldn't come. Her lips trembled, but she stayed silent, her body betraying her once again.
Kael's smile widened, a dark, predatory gleam in his eyes. "That's what I thought."
Before she could react, he gripped the fabric of her shirt and tore it open, the sound of ripping cloth filling the small cell. Lyra gasped, her body jerking in response, but Kael's hand moved to her throat again, holding her in place.
"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing the side of her neck. "You're safe. For now."
His hand slid lower, tracing the curve of her bare skin, and Lyra's heart raced, her body caught between fear and the dark pull of desire she couldn't deny. She hated him, hated what he was doing to her, but she couldn't stop the way her body responded to his touch, the way her skin heated under his fingers.
Kael's hand gripped her waist, pulling her closer, his lips hovering over hers. "You will submit to me, Lyra," he whispered, his voice filled with dark promise. "It's only a matter of time."
Her breath came in shallow gasps as his words washed over her, her mind spinning in a storm of conflicting emotions. She wanted to fight, wanted to push him away, but some part of her-the part that was losing the battle-wanted to give in. To let him take control. To surrender.
But she couldn't. She wouldn't.
"You'll regret this," she managed to whisper, her voice shaking with both fear and defiance.
Kael's smile never wavered. "We'll see."
He pulled back, leaving her breathless and trembling, her body aching from the tension that hung in the air. Without another word, he turned and left the cell, the door slamming shut behind him.
Lyra collapsed onto the cold stone floor, her body shaking as she tried to catch her breath. The room spun around her, and she pressed her palms to her face, trying to block out the overwhelming sensation that still clung to her skin.
She hated him. But as much as she wanted to deny it, she hated herself more for wanting him.