The first thing I felt was the bond tightening like a steel vise around my chest.
. Not a whisper, not a warning, just a sudden, suffocating grip that stole my breath and made my knees buckle.
My own heartbeat roared in my ears, thump thump thump,louder than the city outside, and I could feel every nerve in my body screaming.
Then I heard it. Dante's voice, calm, soft, almost casual but threaded with something , something that made the marrow in my bones shiver.
"My queen…"
That single word was enough to make my blood run cold.
The bond flared again, and this time it wasn't just punishment
. It was a warning, a reminder, a claim.
Every instinct screamed to fight, but the moment I resisted, fire ripped through my spine, tearing at my muscles, burning along my veins.
I fell forward onto the marble, my body spasming, lungs clawing for air. I tried to move, to stand, to fight but the bond had me pinned, my Alpha strength nothing against it.
And above it all, Dante's presence pressed into my mind, smooth and inescapable, watching, judging and owning.
"You thought you could escape?"
"You will learn, my queen… resistance only deepens the punishment."
And then, just like that, I knew this wasn't just about control. This was possession.
Every breath I took, every nerve I had, every ounce of pride I clung to it belonged to him .
I didn't know how long I'd been sprawled on the damn marble.
Minutes? Hours? Time had just… bled out, leaving only the throb in my chest and the jittery hum of my nerves.
The bond's punishment had left me wired, every muscle twitching. My pride?
That was gone. Smashed. Laying at Dante's feet like so much broken glass.
Come to think of this, why am I the only one affected by the bond ,why not Dante?
I stared at the rug gold and crimson threads twisted into some elaborate design. Mocking me with its perfect order.
My Alpha instincts strength, dominance, control are all worthless here. Every breath tasted like ash, every silence felt like another link in a chain.
Then he moved. Just a whisper of sound fabric shifting, leather creaking.
But it cut through the silence like a goddamn knife. I didn't look up, but I felt it.
The weight of Dante's stare, the way the air itself changed when he walked into a room. It wasn't just presence;
it was gravity.
The world tilted, and my pulse traitorous bastard followed right along. A gloved hand touched my face. Gentle. Deliberate. Infuriatingly tender.
" My queen,why are you so sad?
I flinched, teeth bared, a growl rumbling in my chest.
But the bond… the bond held me still, it froze me in place as his fingers brushed my jaw.
" Why are you asking a question that you already know the answer to "
The touch should have been nothing.
It should have been an insult. Instead, it sent a jolt of warmth through me, easing the ache, quieting the tremors.
My body sighed into the contact, even as my mind screamed. No. No. I don't want this.
But the truth the cold, hard truth was that his touch burned and soothed at the same time.
Poison and balm. And my damn body couldn't decide which one it craved more.
"You hate me," Dante murmured, almost… amused? Curious?
His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone, slow and deliberate, like branding me.
"then why is your body saying a different story,but your body is already accepting me as your mate" I jerked my head away, the loss of that touch sending a twist of… something… through me.
"I'd rather bleed than crave you."
" You see my queen,I don't need to use force on you ,I just need one word and you would give yourself to me willingly"
" What are you Dante,what kind of psychopath are you?"
"Me? the kind of psychopath that really loves you"
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face the face of a man who saw right through every lie, every bluff.
He slid a hand under my arm and lifted me like I weighed nothing, guiding me toward the sofa.
I didn't resist. I wanted to God, I wanted to fight. But the exhaustion… it was bone-deep.
Being helped was worse than being broken.
But when he settled me on the couch, adjusting my position with that infuriating precision.I caught something unexpected through the bond: relief,not control,not dominance.
The revelation hit me like a punch to the gut.
He wasn't just satisfied to own me. He was… glad I was alive.
The hell kind of Stockholm Syndrome was that?
I forced a slow breath, schooling my face into a blank mask. If he wanted fear or anger, he'd get neither.
I would just… shut down. Become a goddamn void.
But he leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath ghosting across my lips.
The air tightened heavy, magnetic.
Maybe a kiss would solve all my problems like Cinderella
"You want me to kiss you, are you really that desperate for me,my queen. "
Oh God,how do I not remember that he can read my thoughts.
"Careful, my queen," he said, voice dropping to a register that licked down my spine.
"I only need permission once."
The scent of leather and rain swirled around me, drowning out every coherent thought.
My heart skipped a beat. I could almost taste the danger, the promise that lived in that space between us.
For one terrifying moment, I thought he might kiss me.
My body swayed, traitorous, before I forced it back into rigid stillness.
He stopped just short, his lips curving not in mockery,
but in something darker, sharper. Promise.
"You can deny me your heart.
You can deny me your eyes," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones.
"But you will never deny me your body.
"Not when it answers to me before it answers to you."
My breath hitched.
Fury and desire tangled in my chest like a goddamn bonfire, consuming what little composure I had left.
I wanted to strike, to spit, to do anything that would prove I still had some control.
But all I could do was sit there, trembling, my pulse hammering a frantic rhythm.
He finally drew back, unhurried, his gaze locked on me.
The bond between us hummed like a live wire dangerous, unbreakable.
"Stop pretending you care."
"I'm not pretending."
His voice was quiet, almost tired.
"I've waited five years for you to exist in the same room as me without trying to kill me.
I'm allowed to be relieved when you're
conscious." I laughed: short, ugly, broken.
"You could have asked me on a date like a normal psychopath."
A faint smile ghosted across his mouth.
"Would you have said yes?"
"No."
"Then I chose efficiency."
He sat on the coffee table directly in front of me, close enough that his knees bracketed mine.
The gloves creaked softly as he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs.
"Ask," he said
. "Ask what?"
"Whatever's screaming loudest in that beautiful head. I'm in a generous mood."
I didn't want to give him the satisfaction,
but the question clawed its way out anyway.
"What are you?"
My voice cracked on the last word.
"The bond punishes me when I try to hurt you
. Never the other way around. You read my thoughts like they're subtitles. Normal Alphas don't do that.
So what the hell are you?"
He studied me for a long moment, something ancient flickering behind his eyes. "A story for another day," he said finally.
"When you're ready to hear it without trying to weaponize the knowledge."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you get right now."
Frustration boiled over.
"Then get out."
The stalemate was set. I would fight in silence, and he would wait patient, inevitable.
But as I sat there, hands clenched, trying to rebuild the walls inside my mind, the bond surged one last time.
A jolt of heat shot through me sharp, consuming, uninvited.
My body betrayed me with a single, involuntary shiver. He saw it. And smiled.
Not cruelly. Not triumphantly.
But like a man who already knew he'd won. When he left the room, the silence he left behind was worse than any pain.
I pressed shaking fingers to my lips, trying to erase the memory of a touch that had barely happened.
The war between us had changed.
A deep ache in my chest, a cold dread settled.
I was losing. I had to find a way to break free.
To reclaim my body, my mind, myself. I had to find his weakness. I stood, my legs shaky, and walked to the window.
The city lights glittered far below, a promise of freedom I wasn't sure I'd ever reach.
But I wouldn't give up. I couldn't.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and focused on the one thing I still had:
my will. I would use it to fight, to resist, to survive.
I would become a stone in Dante's path, an obstacle he couldn't ignore.
I opened my eyes, my gaze hardening.
I might be bound, I might be broken, but I wasn't defeated. Not yet.
I turned away from the window and walked toward the door, my steps slow but deliberate.