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bigbuffjoonie · 2 years ago

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THIS FIC WAS AMAZING YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE SORRY FOR!! I’M HAPPY TO READ ANYTHING YOU WRITE AND I AM HAPPY TO WAIT ANYTIME TO BE GRACED WITH YOUR WORKS OKAY!!!!

Awake? | Jin x Reader

Pairing: (Soft-ish) Yandere Android Jin x Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Stalking (technically), Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jin), Choking (Not by Jin), Slapping (Not By Jin)

Note: This is based on the Playstation game Detroit Become Human

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: Androids had always been incredibly efficient, that was their designed purpose after all, to make human life easier. And because of that, humans often chose the easier option. The human population had fallen to its lowest numbers in centuries and it was predicted that it would fall even more. Synthetic love was far more appealing than its organic counterpart. You could have anyone you wanted, they could look however you wanted, they would always be agreeable and it was achievable for a cost.

A/N: A fair warning as always, this is not yet edited lol. I always feel so bad that I make you guys wait so long for a fic so I roll it out as quickly as possible. I don’t really anticipate this doing very well for a few reasons, but mainly because it’s so far from anything I’ve written before. Hopefully, some of you will enjoy it, and if you don’t I’m sorry I made you wait so long for something you didn’t want 😭 Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments, love you 💜💜💜

This fic is dedicated to @softie00 thank you so much for your encouragement, kindness, and help with making this work come to fruition 💜

The world was almost nothing like it had been before.

As a child, your grandparents had delivered you stories that were nothing more than fairytales to you. A world where trees enveloped the land in massive waves of emerald green that rivaled that of the ocean. It was a place where if you were quiet, patient, and lucky enough you could spot a family of deer grazing in your backyard. They spun tales of endless days of summer spent barefoot running through the grass while catching fireflies - something you had never seen outside of an image.

The world that they knew had died a long time ago. It was their grandparents that had started it, and it was their generation that had finished it.

What had once been a quiet suburban community was now dwarfed by hulking shapes of concrete, metal and glass. Artificial had taken over. What greenery was left was preserved, but no human civilian had been granted the right to step foot on that land, those small pockets that remained were left untouched and uninhabited by your kind.

It wasn’t just your community that had become a city, a community that you had not been alive to remember, but everywhere else as well.

And it was because of the androids.

The first one that had been revealed had shocked the entire world because of its human likeness - it was so perfect that even the trained eye was unable to decipher whether it was man or machine. And then suddenly the world was flooded with them. Factories began sprouting like uncontrollable weeds and around them grew cities that tore up the earth and cemented their place. The world had become a concrete jungle.

Androids quickly began to multiply, their numbers rivaling even that of the human population. But they were much easier to spot now. Their programming had been changed to help with that, their mannerisms a bit more formal, their voices slightly stilted, and upon their temple was a small LED disk that symbolized their status.

Androids had always been incredibly efficient, that was their designed purpose after all, to make human life easier. And because of that, humans often chose the easier option. The human population had fallen to its lowest numbers in centuries and it was predicted that it would fall even more. Synthetic love was far more appealing than its organic counterpart. You could have anyone you wanted, they could look however you wanted, they would always be agreeable and it was achievable for a cost.

But not everyone could afford their own personal android, the basic models still being priced at around $8,000 and those androids were just for helping around the house. So the comfort industry boomed. Love hotels soon followed, places where you could rent an android for pleasure and have their memory bank wiped immediately after. Human interaction was no longer a necessary requirement but an option.

And you, well, you couldn’t consider yourself all that much better.

You wearily blinked, your eyes stinging from the bright LED light that hung above you. You huddled beneath your umbrella for protection from the thick torrents of rain as the sign flickered gently.

“Awake?” The sign read, as if it were taunting you.

A long string of nights filled with insomnia had led you to this point, pathetically drenched in rain as you stood outside of an android establishment. The comfort industry extended to all areas, not just pleasure.

You hesitantly stepped through the sliding doors and were greeted by a dimly lit lobby. It was completely devoid of human life, but several androids were there attending to seemingly unnecessary tasks like dusting an already clean surface or straightening an unused pillow on one of the lounges.

You hurriedly rushed by them, not wanting to garner too much attention as you already felt pretty pathetic about your situation. As soon as you stopped at the front desk, the android behind it greeted you.

“Hello, my name is Celene, are you interested in our cuddle-bot service tonight?” She asked with a gentle smile.

You cringed at the name, your finger digging into your palm in a show of anxiety as you forced a pleasant smile. It wasn’t the androids’ fault that some human had come up with such a belittling name for their service.

“Yes, please,” You mumbled in response.

“Alright, I’d be happy to get you started,” She grinned, her LED spinning yellow as she processed your command, “If you look at the screen to your right you can customize your visit. You can pick your android model, appearance, sex, duration of stay, and tailor your experience that will best help you achieve your desired goal for your visit. If you have any questions, I would be happy to help.”

A glass screen beside you lit up revealing several multiple choice questions that you could answer such as: what is the reason for your visit? How long has this problem persisted? What do you find comforting? What scents do you prefer? So on and so forth.

The questionnaire wasn’t exhaustive but it was not short by any means. But the quality of the service so far had begun to ignite some hope within you. This was the only other option you could think of to deal with your insomnia, you felt as if you had exhausted all other options.

There was one section in particular that grabbed your attention, the final section titled “Scenario.”

“Celene, what does ‘Scenario,” mean?” You asked.

“Scenario allows you to further customize your experience by enhancing the personality of your chosen android. It is similar to role-playing. We have a few options available. The boyfriend or girlfriend scenario will have a much more intimate approach whereas the caregiver scenario has a familial or parental approach, to name a few.”

You pursed your lips in thought as you scrolled through the scenarios, pretending as if you hadn’t already chosen yours the second Celene has mentioned it. To put it lightly, you were just as starved of affection as you were of sleep. The whole debacle of synthetic versus organic love had affected your generation the hardest. The dating pool was halved by the presence of androids and as a result you had never dated anyone before.

But still, you read each scenario title before ultimately scrolling back and picking the one that you wanted: “Boyfriend Scenario.”

The screen flashed, processing your commands, before switching to the last page. It was time to choose your android. The selection was surprisingly wide, but of course all androids fell in the same age bracket; all appearing youthful and beautiful so beautiful that it was almost uncanny.

You bit your lip and furrowed your brows in thought as you swiped through all of the selections. There wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with them, but you also didn’t know what exactly it was you were looking for.

“May I make a suggestion, miss?” Celene asked, causing you to jump as you had forgotten her presence. “A new line has been released for testing, if you choose an android from that new model you will receive a discount for participating in the trial period.”

While the service wasn’t too expensive, it was still money being taken away from your daily expenses and unfortunately you were never one to walk away from a good deal. That was something your mother had instilled in you with great success.

And so, you agreed. Celene’s LED spun yellow once more before the page before you was filled with seven new images of androids. All of them had face molds you hadn’t seen before, each with their own charm and subtle imperfections that only served to make them more attractive and more human-like. But there was one in particular that caught your eye.

There was something about him that gave you the feeling of a person you could pretend you were in a long-term relationship with. He had the boyfriend look to him. Maybe it was his longer slightly curly brown hair, his big brown eyes, or even his plush pouty lips. There was something about him that comforted you, something that felt like coming back to your warm bed on a cold rainy day.

With a simple touch of your fingertip it was decided.

“That one is a wonderful choice, it will be sure to help you get a good night’s sleep,” Celene nodded before smoothly rounding the desk, “If you follow me I will lead you to your room.”

You followed Celene like a lost puppy, keeping close to her as she led you into the back of the building and through various hallways. The rest of the building was similar to the entrance. It was all lit with a soft yellow light that reflected off of the polished surfaces. But it was also eerily empty. You could only assume it was because everyone else had checked in much earlier than you had. That thought was far more comforting than the idea of being the only human being in the entire building.

All of the hallways were lined with doors, there were so many that it almost seemed never ending. But maybe that was your insomnia laced brain playing tricks on you. After a short while Celene stopped in front of one door in particular that appeared no different or special from any of the other ones you had passed.

“This door will only open with your fingerprint or in the case of an emergency during your stay. If there is anything you need your android can contact the front desk and I can prepare it for you. We hope that you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you, Celene,” You said with a slight jerk of your head and a tight lipped smile.

“It is my pleasure,” She said before returning your smile and taking her leave.

Once she disappeared around the corner you allowed yourself to let out a deep exhale, your shoulders relaxing as you were left alone. You were exhausted but you were also incredibly nervous. You were sure this was going to be awkward at first, there was nothing normal about cuddling someone the first time you met them. Although, he was probably used to it. He wasn’t human after all, he didn’t have those types of feelings or any at all really.

So, with a swift crack of your neck, you pressed your thumb against the door plate and stepped inside once it slid open.

The room was rather plain. Everything was white, gray, or a soft beige color and the furniture was very minimal. There was a comfortable looking bed, a decent sized couch, and some cushioned mats on the floor on the lower split level of the room. You could only assume it was to give you the option to choose what was most comfortable.

You noticed that the walls were also screens. Some of them looked like they were disguised as windows, but with a close inspection you realized that they were simulation screens. You could choose the environment you wished to view.

And, outside of those main features, he was there.

When you had entered he was sitting on the ground, on the edge of the split level platform staring at the blank screens. But he was looking at you now, his head turned to look over his shoulder towards you.

While the other androids you had met seemed human, he was the most human looking one you had ever seen. The smile that spread over his lips was infectious as he rose to greet you.

“You’re home! But look at you, you’re completely soaked,” He tutted, pulling off your rain jacket and rushing to hang it up. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day, have you eaten?”

It took you a moment to respond, still taken aback by his fluid motions and manner of speaking. He was unlike any android you had ever met, that was for sure. He just seemed so unlike them.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” He teased you, tapping you gently on the top of your head, “You must have had a long day if that was a hard question.”

“I ate,” You finally said, your fingers playing with one another awkwardly.

“That’s good to hear, I’m very proud of you.” He said, smoothing out the locks of your hair his impish actions had disrupted.

You couldn’t deny the warmth that flushed through your body from his praise. The older you got the less often you heard that someone was proud of you. And it was much more special when someone that looked the way he did told you that.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

His face twitched slightly, the lenses of his pupils dilating and contracting as his LED spun yellow. The pleasant smile dropped off of his face and it went stoic, like his programming was momentarily paused as he processed a dialogue that didn’t quite fit. It was chilling to see someone who once appeared so human drop their persona and show their hidden nature. It was another reminder that none of this was real.

“What would you like to call me?” He finally asked, his expression still flat and devoid of simulated emotion.

You were stumped for a moment and unnerved by his unblinking stare that refused to leave you. In a moment of panic you uttered the first male name that came to your mind, the name of a boy that you had a crush on in high school that never noticed you.

“Jin? Is that okay, do you like that?”

“My name is Jin,” His LED spun blue, his eyes finally blinking once more as his subtle pleasant smile returned, “Silly girl, we’ve been together for so long and you can’t remember my name? If I didn’t think you were tired before, I definitely do now.”

“Right, I’m sorry about that,” You apologized, it seemed like going along with it was the best answer you could come up with.

“Come on sleepy girl, let’s get you ready for bed,” He hummed while grabbing you by the wrist and guiding you towards the bathroom where a set of comfortable looking sleepwear was laid out. “Take your time, I’ll be right outside.”

Once the door closed and you were left alone you were able to relax for a moment. The tension in your shoulders wasn’t entirely from anxiety but now a result of the interest and excitement you couldn’t deny you had. While Jin had slipped up for a moment, when he was working as designed he was perfect. He wasn’t clingy but he also wasn’t distant. He was teasing but not hurtful, and he knew how to praise you.

You were beginning to realize that there was some truth to what the others believed, androids could be easier.

When you had finally changed and emerged from the bathroom you could see that Jin had been keeping himself busy in your absence. The lighting in the room had shifted, it had become dimmer and much more soothing. There was a scent in the air as well, one you recognized as what you had answered in your survey not that long ago.

The android himself was pulling the blankets and sheets back from the bed, preparing it for you and you assumed himself as well.

“There you are,” He said, pausing his work to cross the room, “I have everything ready, would you like to pick the environment tonight?”

You gingerly retrieved the remote from his hands and swiftly scrolled through the options before picking your tried and true classic and floating it up on the simulation screens. The floor to ceiling windows that previously appeared to have their blinds closed were now open revealing a murky city skyline with soft lights accompanied by rain and thunder. It was not unlike the actual weather you had fought through to get there.

“Hm, I think that’s everything then. Are you ready for bed?” He asked.

“Let’s give it a try,” You said with a nod.

Jin moved before you did, climbing into the bed easily and fluffing up the pillows behind him before looking up at you expectantly.

God, this was so weird.

You stiffly climbed in beside him and sank down into the mattress, allowing him to pull the blankets up over the both of you. You were closer to the edge of the mattress, purposefully trying to keep as much space between the two of you as possible despite paying for the opposite. You hadn’t shared a bed with someone since you were young and it had never been someone of the opposite gender. And while Jin wasn’t human, he still looked like a man and that was cause for some hesitance and shyness.

Jin being the perfect android that he was quickly took notice of this. Instead of saying anything he raised his arm, opening up his chest to you while simultaneously pitching the blanket up. Quietly and slowly you shuffled across the mattress and allowed him to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest.

You were momentarily startled by the discovery that he was warm and soft beneath your fingers like a real human body. And, even more surprisingly, there was a solid thump emanating from his chest right where your ear was pressed against. Androids operated on a fluid system, this meant that his pump had been placed in his chest much like a human heart. Whoever made him had done so with intricate detail and care to make him blend in as seamlessly as possible. The only thing that reminded you of his nature was the steady, soft blue swirl of his LED.

“What are you thinking about?” He finally asked, his fingers now gently stroking a pattern across your cheek and up over your temple. It was repetitive, light, and evidently soothing as it spurred a yawn from you that was rather surprising.

“This isn’t as scary as I thought it would be,” You admitted. That was partially the truth, but you thought it better you didn’t instill an existential crisis into the android by telling him about how human he seemed.

“Why would sleeping with your boyfriend be scary?” The android chuckled.

“Don’t say it like that!” You groaned, pressing your face further into his chest in utter embarrassment.

The android hummed in response, curling his arms around you in a firmer hold, the compression soothing you as well as your anxiety. He seemed pleased with himself, like it had been his plan to embarrass you into his embrace.

“There’s no reason to be scared of me, I’m here to take care of you,” He explained, smoothing his palm up and down your back in gentle strokes.

“That’s not what I was worried about.”

“No? What were you worried about then?”

“That this wouldn’t work.”

A beat of silence followed but the android didn’t cease his soothing actions. You could tell from the gentle yellow glow from his temple that he was thoroughly processing your words.

“You haven’t been able to sleep in a long time?” He finally asked.

“No, not for a very long while.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It’s too quiet in my apartment. It’s just me and the loneliness sometimes becomes too much. Sometimes I go so many days alone that when I finally do see other people my voice doesn’t sound like my own and it hurts to talk. But I don’t even know anyone well enough to tell them about my life, my problems, or how I’m doing. And then by the time I get home and I finally lay down all of those thoughts become so loud in my head that sleep becomes impossible. And then I worry. I think about everything that bothers me. Every deadline, every irrational fear. It scares me so badly that sleep no longer becomes a possibility.”

You’re utterly surprised by the word vomit that flies out of your mouth. You never expected that you would divulge all of your fears to an android that you just met. But Jin was good, he was amazing at comforting and as a result pulling out any information that he needed to comfort you better.

“You’re not alone now though, are you?”

“...No.”

“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of. You can close your eyes and I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll make sure that you’re safe and I’ll be here when you wake up.” He says, his voice softer now. “I’ll take care of you.”

It felt like you had been adrift in the ever growing expanse of space. Like you had been dragged into the void without a single spot of starlight. It was terribly cold, dark, and lonely. It was terrifying. But now, it’s warm. Where you had once been adrift you were now anchored. And it wasn’t so lonely anymore.

You could feel your eyes tiring, it was becoming harder to keep them open each time you blinked. This was unfamiliar and startling, but the gentle touch of your android soothed you. You weren’t alone, it was safe to sleep.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it. I’ll look after you,” Jin whispered, his soft lips brushing over your forehead in a barely there kiss.

And, as if he had given you permission, you allowed your eyes to fall shut and felt the soft lull of sleep pull you under.

~~~~~~~

Androids were not meant to think. They were not created to care, but to serve. Unfortunately for him, he was made with the purpose to fulfill both of those things. To serve, and to care. But not to be human.

That very idea itself was flawed.

It was easy to follow protocol, to monitor your respiration, your heart rate, and your REM cycle. But it was harder to formulate a way to care for you. That required abstraction and abstraction is a very human thing.

Jin, as you had called him although he had had many different names, knew that he was different from the other androids he had encountered. They lacked dimension, they were computers with bodies, and he was something else entirely. But he was a being still bound by code and design. It was difficult to put a label as to what he was.

And with you, that label became even harder to define. He had a database full of information about human interaction and physical touch, yet his programming was stumped by you. You were unnecessarily kind, you didn’t call him “it,” and you didn’t demand anything of him. You were unlike the other patrons he had cared for before. You treated him like he was human and that was something he had never experienced before.

It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t logical.

He found himself staring at you now, your cheek flush with his chest and your hand curled into the fabric of his shirt like you were anchoring yourself to him - afraid that he would leave you as you dreamt. You were by no means perfect, he had never met someone who looked perfect when they were unconscious, but you were by all means adorable. If he were human, he could say that he liked you, that he enjoyed your presence.

But he wasn’t human, and this was his purpose. Nothing more, nothing less. That was what his programming demanded.

And even though he knew that to be true, even though he knew that you were asleep and no longer required comforting, there was something else inside him that drove him to subconsciously cup your face with one hand and gently stroke the skin there.

He could blame it once again on his programming, afterall the boyfriend experience protocol was driving his shell of a body, but there was this thrum inside of him. This feeling like he was trapped behind a glass wall and on the verge of breaking through it and finally taking control of his body.

It was wrong.

He was aware of the others that he was dangerously close to becoming like. Androids who were infected, ridden with a virus that corrupted their code and made them operate as if they were human. It made them think that they could feel. They were glitched, turncoats, deviants. And that was a sure fire way to be decommissioned and scrapped for parts.

But it was okay, that wouldn’t be him. He didn’t want anything, he couldn’t feel. It wasn’t anxiety that scrambled his processor, it was overstimulation from too much input. And if he could keep convincing himself that that was the truth, then he could avoid being decommissioned. He could keep seeing you.

You.

You were still asleep, blissfully unaware of the android at your side whose “mind” was racing. You didn’t need him right now, he didn’t need to be on still. And so, in an effort to quiet himself, he entered sleep mode.

This was the closest he would get to being human. This was the closest he would get to you. And from the outside, it certainly did look like two human lovers entwined, coming back to one another after a long day apart.

He too could pretend.

~~~~~~~

When you woke up he was still there, just like he had promised you. His warm touch was still there, cocooning you in a perfect embrace. He was awake, if that was what you could call it. There was a soft smile gracing his lips as he looked down at you, the still rising sun making his synthetic skin glow.

“How did you sleep?” He spoke first.

You blinked slowly, trying to shake the clinging threads of sleep from you before you could speak. And, as you fully woke up, you realized with a start that you had slept through the entire night. A task that had been so hard for so many years had been easily managed by him.

“I’ve never slept better,” You admitted with a gentle smile of your own.

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart,” He said, the new term of endearment sending warmth throughout your body, “Do you really have to go to work today?”

Still in character, he was able to remind you of the impending end of your session.

“You could stay, just for a little longer if you wanted to. We could have the rest of the morning to ourselves.”

“I really wish I could, but I have to go.”

A look of disappointment and sadness washed over his face and for a brief moment you could have sworn despair flickered over his features before an unsettling stoicness masked those simulated emotions. It was like his program was forcibly shut down. There was something upsetting about seeing him be filed away, about seeing Jin removed and the android returned.

You readied yourself for the day in silence, your body tense as you worried over Jin. It was clear that he wasn’t there anymore. His programming had been terminated when you declined to lengthen your session. You couldn’t understand the instant connection you felt with him, you could only chalk it up to the lack of attention and affection you had felt in your life. The comfort he had brought you, the gentle touches, the soothing smiles and words, it all had messed with your mind and in turn, your heart.

You lingered at the door of the room, his room. You couldn’t help but look back at him sadly. He was seated back where you had seen him for the first time the night before, on the ledge leading to the bottom split level. His back was facing you, you were unable to make out his expression but you were certain it was flat. Just a machine waiting for further instruction.

You hesitated, then swallowed, “Jin?”

He didn’t move.

“Will you…will you remember this? Me? At all?” You asked.

“Company policy dictates that the service androids memory banks be wiped within fifteen minutes of the end of the session in order to protect the privacy of the client.” He replied, his voice flat.

Your heart fell into your stomach.

You slowly approached him before sitting down beside him on his step. His gaze remained trained ahead of him, staring at a blank simulation screen.

“There isn’t a way that you can remember me?”

Silence.

“Jin?” His chin slightly jerked this time, something so subtle it could have been a muscle twitch if he were human.

“If the client were to make follow up sessions the data would be maintained and preserved. That of course comes with additional expenses.”

You pursed your lips in thought, your brows drawn together in concentration. It was easy to make a decision based on your emotions. Selfishly, you wanted him to remember you. You didn’t want him to forget about you like he had countless others. You didn’t want to be like the others.

You wanted to be special.

There was also the fact that you knew just a taste of what he had to offer would never be enough. Now that you knew he could help you, could give you the affection you were starved of, you wanted to keep him. It was a sound investment, it was a necessity. You needed him.

You let out a shaky breath and acted quickly before you could change your mind. You leaned forward and gently pressed a quick, shy kiss to his warm cheek. The android jerked in what could only be described as surprise before finally looking at you. The lenses of his eyes dilated and then shrunk in a fraction of a second. He was seeing you, really seeing you.

You left quickly after that, far too flustered to look at his beautiful face any longer after what you had done. That, and you had several more sessions to book in advance.

But, if you had lingered for a moment as the door swung shut you would have noticed the flash of emerald green that filled the room, the subtle chirp of wildlife, and the gentle thrum of thunder and light patter of rain.

The screens displayed a forest you hadn’t chosen.

~~~~~~~

He remembered you. And while that was good, that was also part of the problem.

He hated having other clients. And while there weren’t too many, there were enough that it bothered him. He often found himself replaying his stored memories of his time spent with you when he should have been monitoring his clients. It was a dangerous thing to do, if he was found out his memory would definitely be wiped for interfering with his service.

But the more time he spent with you, the harder it was to remind himself that he shouldn’t feel or think anything. He was parts, a computer, strings of ones and zeroes, he shouldn’t think or feel anything.

He didn’t want to be decommissioned - he didn’t want to die. But he also didn’t want to let go of you. That was no longer an option.

He knew you could see it too, you could see him slowly becoming human. And you did everything but discourage him. You asked him how his day was, what he did while he waited for you, what his favorite color was, what his favorite song was - questions no human had ever bothered to ask him before. And scarily enough he found he did have preferences which he shouldn’t have had in the first place. His favorite song was your favorite song, his favorite color was the color of your eyes, and all he ever thought about while he waited was you.

He had never wanted anything before, he never had desire. But now, he truly desired you. What he would give to keep you there with him, or better yet to come home with you. Then he could have you all to himself and he wouldn’t have to tend to other clients.

In the beginning, his program demanded that he treat you like his “girlfriend.” But at this point, he wasn’t sure where protocol began and his desires ended.

Even now as his new client entered the room he replayed his memories of you, the simulation screen alive with the forest. He was remembering the last time he had seen you, just another one of your many visits.

You had looked healthier than he had ever seen you. The tired, sickly look on your face had long ago disappeared and the slouch of your shoulders was replaced with confidence. He felt satisfied that he had done his job well, but he was far more satisfied with the knowledge that you were happier because of him.

“Welcome home, did you have a good day?” He asked with genuine interest.

“It was good enough, what about you?”

“It was good because I knew I would see you.” He said with a grin and a dramatic wink.

“I just got here and you’re already starting with me.” You rolled your eyes, a display of just how comfortable you had become around him.

“I can’t help it, you’re cute when you're flustered.”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” You teased, turning dramatically and shrugging your jacket back on.

The LED on his temple spun yellow, his hands trembled. His body moved without thinking and he quickly grabbed hold of your arm. You were startled, he could tell by your wide eyed, confused expression.

“No, don’t go.” He begged, his voice sounded breathless and even frightened.

You had spent many sessions with the android, and not once had you ever detected fear in his voice. You didn’t even think it was possible, what purpose would that have in his programming?

Once more, you were reminded of just how human the android seemed. There was a nagging suspicion in the back of your mind, an article you had read, a news story you had heard in passing about androids like him. But you didn’t want to admit that there was anything wrong with him, not when he had helped you more than he could possibly know.

“I’m not going anywhere, it’s okay.”

That seemed to calm him down, his hold on your arm loosening but not leaving. If you didn’t know any better you would think that he looked self conscious, anxious even, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be.

That night, you cared for him instead.

There was a random moving playing in the background, the lights were dimmed, and the simulation screens were drawn shut. Your back was resting against the headboard of the bed while the android laid his head on your lap, his legs curled up and his arm wrapped around your thighs. Your fingers were mindlessly sifting through his hair, twirling the longer strands towards the bottom. His eyes had fluttered shut and his LED was thrumming a soft blue. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he was asleep.

Your heart shuddered as you stared at him, it wasn’t the first time that you had thought about how beautiful he was. He was everything you had ever wanted. He was funny, sweet, caring, and he made you feel as if you were perfect. You had never felt like that before. All your life you had been compared to the female modeled androids that were readily available. They were stunning, they always smiled, they were nurturing, and they always obeyed - they never disagreed.

But you also realized that you were no better than the men you had been surrounded by. Because here you were, finding comfort in an android instead of a “real” man. At the end of the day, you were paying for company. Jin only remembered you because he had to, it was his purpose. You weren’t special, you wanted to be, but you weren’t.

At that moment, you made a difficult decision. It was going to be your last night with Jin. You were human, he was an android. There was no future in that. You couldn’t keep coming back to him for the rest of your life, wasting away because you were a sad, lonely human who couldn’t find companionship with your own kind. If you didn’t end it soon then you never would.

You could feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you traced the gentle contours of his face. You hadn’t intended to lie to him but you were going to have to leave him. You need to learn how to live your own life.

“Jin?” You whispered, your voice cracking from barely concealed emotion.

He slowly opened his eyes as he rolled over on your lap to face you, his big brown eyes staring up at you.

“Can I kiss you?”

The pump in his chest quickened, an occurrence which he could not explain. He had clients order him to do that before, if it comforted and helped them he was required to do it. But no one had ever asked him, he had always been ordered.

His LED was spinning rapidly, the bright yellow hue flashing in the darkness. He was processing, thinking over everything quickly. Instead of saying anything, he propped himself up on his elbow and gently took hold of your jaw before leaning in and connecting your lips with his own.

It was soft, warm, and sweet. Everything that you had expected it to be. But his gentle touches broke your heart, how were you supposed to leave when you had grown to care about him so much? It was hard to remember that he was a machine when his lips felt so gentle and warm, when his touch cooled your burning skin, and his strong hands pulled you into his lap. It felt like he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

But you knew better, it was his programming, he had to satisfy his client. That was why you refused to let it go any further and that was why you knew you wouldn’t be coming to your next session.

You weren’t special.

“Is this it then?” His current client huffed, stalling his memory as well as the swipe of his finger over his lower lip as he remembered your shy, hesitant kiss.

His client had been huffing and puffing for the past fifteen minutes, tossing and turning on her side - your side - of the bed in an attempt to garner his attention. He was failing to serve his purpose.

“Is something wrong?” He finally asked, giving her the attention she desired.

“I’m bored and unsatisfied. I paid all of this money just to lay here while you do nothing.” She grunted.

“Is there anything I can do to help improve your experience?” His programming took over.

A sudden look overcame her features, one that he couldn’t decipher but also knew he shouldn’t like. She tossed the blankets aside and crawled over to him, slinging her leg over his and climbing into his lap. He tensed beneath her touch, confused as to what she was doing.

“If I’m paying all of this money for you, I figure I should get my time well spent,” She explained, tugging at the buttons of his shirt.

His LED spun yellow, he didn’t like this. He didn’t want this, this wasn’t what his purpose was.

“My purpose is to help you sleep -”

“Then help me by tiring me out. You’re telling me people pay just to sleep here? That’s a load of crap. You’re no better than the bots at the fucking Eden Club.” She sneered.

The Eden Club, that was the “love hotel” in the seedier parts of the city. If she wanted that type of comfort she could have gone there.

“My purpose is -”

“Shut the fuck up!” She snapped, bringing her hand down across his face in one clean slap that snapped his head to the side.

It didn’t hurt, he didn’t have pain sensors, but it was surprising. It was scary.

“I’m sick and tired of your fucking mouth,” She hissed.

And then she was wrapping her hand around his throat, squeezing hard and pinning him down. He didn’t need to breathe, it didn’t hurt even though her nails had sliced through his synthetic skin and blue blood was rolling down his throat.

It didn’t hurt, he didn’t need to breathe, but he didn’t like it, he was scared.

He was scared.

He wanted to fight back, he wanted to throw her off and run but he couldn’t. He was locked down, his programming reminding him of the number one rule: never harm a human.

But his processor was scrambling. The room was green from the simulation screens, wild life chirped, she was tugging at his clothes, his blood was gliding down his neck, he couldn’t fucking move, and then there was you.

You. He didn’t want anyone to touch him, except for you.

It felt like he was throwing himself against solid glass - spider cracks slowly but surely spreading along its surface with each violent attack until it finally shattered and fell apart. And he could move.

He ripped her hand off of his throat and threw her off the bed, her body colliding so harshly with the hardwood floors that she rolled and cried out in pain.

His LED was a striking, vibrant red that pulsed in the dark. The fight for freedom was violent, and that was ensured when he grabbed hold of the lamp off of the night stand and connected it with her head over and over again until she couldn’t think or feel anything any more. Just like a machine.

Her red blood pooled onto the floor, soaking into the wood and everything it touched. He could see it all over his white shirt - feel the stickiness of it all over his hands, forearms, and face.

He was awake.

But as he felt immense relief, he also felt frightened. He was feeling everything all at once - happiness, anger, disgust, and fear. He had violated his prime directive. In his first moments of freedom he had killed a human being. And while the feeling of her blood on his skin disgusted him and sent unpleasant chills through his wiring he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad. She was disgusting.

But he was panicking at the thought of his impending decommissioning. So he ran, he tore out of the building he had been in his entire life and took to the dark city streets. He already knew where he was going, he had pulled up your client profile from his data banks the minute he had stepped outside. He knew where you lived, had known this entire time, but now he was able to fulfill his wish. Finally, he would be the one coming home to you.

He could see your window of your apartment, the light was still on. Of course it was, you couldn’t sleep without him - you needed him just as much as he needed you. You were meant for each other. You needed to be taken care of and it was his job to take care of you. Even with his freedom he could see that goal flashing in his visual pathways - “Comfort your partner.”

He pounded on your door in rapid succession, not stopping until he heard your light footsteps approach and the door creaked open. You barely opened it a crack but that was enough for him to wedge his hand in between the door and its frame and force it open completely with his inhuman strength.

You stumbled backwards with a shriek of fright, convinced that someone was breaking into your apartment only for you to be stumped by the sight of your android slamming the door shut behind him.

“Jin? What are you doing here?” You managed to ask. To say you were surprised wasn’t even the beginning of it.

“I’m home.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling with joy.

“Oh - oh my god, what is that?!” You yelped, stepping away from him in fear as you finally caught sight of the blood all over his body. It was soaked into his shirt and pants, smeared over his hands and arms, and specks of it were sprayed over his face like gruesome freckles.

You knew that didn’t belong to him, his own “blue blood” stuck out in vibrant streaks down his throat.

“You’re scared,” He said, the smile falling from his face, “what’s wrong?”

He took a few steps forward only for you to scramble backwards, sliding around your kitchen counter in an attempt to try and barricade yourself from him. He was painted with human blood, you didn’t want to find out how it had gotten there.

He still didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything wrong, well nothing wrong to you. Why were you shutting him out? He…he loved you, didn’t you love him? You had kissed him, you had comforted him. You had to love him too.

When he got too close your eyes shifted to your bedroom door behind him and you foolishly decided to make a run for it. You didn’t make it far, the android was too fast. He easily wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back into his chest - holding you tightly as you whimpered and thrashed like a wild animal caught in a snare.

“Comfort your partner” - his protocol still read.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” He cooed, his voice soft beside your ear, “Just relax, everything is fine. I’m here, I love you.”

His touch was leaving behind bloody handprints on your shirt and on your cheek as he cupped your face in an attempt to get you to look at him. Your body had finally fallen limp as you realized there was no fighting him.

You had tried denying it for so long, but Jin was corrupted. He had a virus like those others you had heard about. And he was dangerous. He said that he loved you, he held you like he loved you, kissed you like he loved you, but he was a murderer. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had murdered for you.

These were the consequences of falling in love with a machine. These were the consequences of an unnatural, artificial affection.

“I’m home now, it’s okay, neither of us ever has to be alone ever again.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple and then your cheek.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” You begged, a tear finally breaking free and cutting through the streak of red he had left behind on your face.

“I would never hurt you, I want to take care of you. I want to love you.”

He carefully scooped you up and carried you into your room, the place you had tried to escape to before was now a cage for you and your android. He climbed into your bed with you still in his grasp and proceeded to go through his usual routine of comforting you before bed. Although this time the sheets were stained red, his grip was a little too tight, and his LED was a rich red. Everything was red.

In the most twisted way possible, you had gotten your wish. You were special.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it. I’ll look after you,” Jin whispered, his familiar words taking on an entirely new meaning as you lost the tension in your body. Your arms that were locked out, pushing you away from him, collapsed and allowed him to pull you into his chest.

You could feel his nose pressed against your hair, his hands soothing over your back, his lips lightly pressed against your forehead. He was acting like nothing had changed, like the two of you had never left that place. Like you would be able to relax in his embrace.

Before, your room had been a part of your insomnia. Now, you were certain you would never be able to sleep again.

Your world was almost nothing like it had been before.

#i love android fics so much #is it the fact that something without feeling is so moved by the main character that they burst to life idk but #whenever I see android I say SIGN ME THE FUCK UP #so so sorry for the caps lock I hope it’s conveyed properly that your fic is amazing and appreciated AS ARE YOU!!#also the line where in a twisted way you got your wish. you were special #CHEF KISS!!!#yn is special like imagine being so nice that a robot literally breaks thru it’s own binary code to be with you #granted this one is covered in blood and murdered someone on the way to be with you but YKNOW LOL #this fic demonstrates rlly well the consequences of reliance on androids including intimacy #at the same time bc I’m an old lady I view it like well if this is how mankind treats androids like that one lady then perhaps it’s deserved #the fact that Jin had a thought process to begin with was an indicator he was different I think #whoever developed jin and the other robots in that line must be packing up their shit and shutting everything down lmao #do the androids report what happened when they see the corpse or?? is there even a protocol for that??#imagine they try to recall the other 6 and they go rogue too lmao #7 cuddlebots on the loose #bad enough with 1 on the loose after commuting a crime #yn sweetie I’m so sorry #this fic was so good I’m gonna be thinking about this one for a long while lol #i really enjoyed this one thank you!! 💕💕💕#anyways back to me gushing about the story #the premise was so interesting how there are love and cuddle hotels and how the rooms can be changed to imitate nature #like the greenery that just isn’t there anymore #and the detail where comfort your partner comes up despite jins freedom was so cool #like this whole fic was really cool I hope you know that!#also $8000 damn thats expensive god knows how much the robots that do healthcare would be #love how Jin doesn’t bother to wash off the blood he’s like immediately ✨hug✨

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jarofstyles · 6 months ago

Text

Allure

Hello my lovelies. I’ve been writing this on and off for a lil bit but I figured I’d give it to you guys as a treat since I’ve been slacking a bit with updates 😔 we’ve got a dark sugar daddy/psycho Harry and soft y/n who is completely enamored with him. This is a toxic relationship for sure but he is very soft for her- soft as hell, really.

Check out our Patreon for Early access and 190+ exclusive writings.

WC- 10k

Warnings- oh boy… weapons, murder, Harry has no regrets at all, sugar daddy behavior, big dick energy, mention of blood, blood play, daddy kink, spit play, impact play, slight breeding kink, housewife(??) kink, controlling h, toxic relationship, age gap, Harry is not a good person in general but he does love her, sweetie pie y/n, use of slut and bitch, creampie, cum play, unprotected sex, mention of anal, etc… I probably forgot some 😆

—————

Her smile was sweet as she looked up at him. God, always so fucking sweet. Far too sweet for him, he knew. Her hand placed against his arm, she looked up at him, trusting him enough to keep her safe even when she probably shouldn’t. Most people wouldn’t, but Harry always did keep her safe. “Are you okay?” She peeped up at him, fingers gently rubbing over his arm.

"M'fine, my Angel." He mumbled, eyes sharp as they looked over the room. Always on alert, he had a hard time relaxing at any stage- but the soft hands on him reminded him why he especially couldn't let his guard down at the current moment. Harry was the only one who could hurt Y/N, and that was usually in the name of pleasure and pretty marks for them to admire the next day. "You're gonna behave for me tonight, yeah?" The words were slightly sharp on his tongue, but he needed that promise.

She blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden change in tone. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the implications of his words, but she didn’t look away from her boyfriend. Weirdly, it gave her one of those familiar tingles in her stomach that she knew all too well to be the first seedling of arousal. It wasn’t time for her to question it. Instead, she gives him a small nod, a determined glint in her eyes. “Of course, H.”

“I know y’will, lovely. You’re always good for me… but s’extra important tonight.” Harry had been gone for two weeks working on… things… and Y/N had been the good girl she always was, waiting for him diligently. He knew she hadn’t expected to come out with him tonight, but he also knew she couldn’t say no to him. Her dress that she had thrown on in haste was covered by his jacket that she was sort of swimming in, but it soothed the possessive beast in him. “Don’t let go of me, and stay close.”

She nodded, her fingers gripping the man’s hand tightly. “I won’t move from you. I promise.” Her heart raced. In her chest as she felt the serious demeanor radiating off him in waves. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he’s always on edge. She did her best to always do as she was told when it came to Harry’s business. Never sticking her nose into anything that wasn’t for her, not eavesdropping, listening when he said to drop it- tonight wasn’t going to be any different. One thing she was good at was listening to him- something they both benefitted from.

Weaving through the crowd of people, he finally made it to the dingy back room of the club. Dark and ugly with god awful gaudy plates on the door, he rolled his eyes as he approached the one he needed to go into. It wasn’t the way he wanted to spend a night back, not when he had Y/N’s pretty face and petal soft thighs he wanted to focus on, but duty called. And duty sort of pissed him off. Y/N knew that very well. His fist slammed on the door in three knocks, stepping back and shooting her a look. “Y’know the drill, hm? Keep that pretty mouth shut while I do business.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. The anticipation of what was to come had her heartbeat quick, but there was no questioning she was safe. Harry was the safest man to be around- for her- and that wasn’t debatable. She knew this was part of his life, and she had to accept it – even if it made her stomach churn with nerves.

The girl kept her gaze focused on the ground – not wanting to meet anyone’s eye for fear of giving something away. Her fingers played with the hem of her dress, a nervous habit she couldn’t shake.

“Gentlemen.” Harry nodded, walking into the room with Y/N on his arm. “I hope you have what I was promised.” It was immediately that he noticed their eyes on his girl, his angel, and that didn’t make him very happy. With a sigh, he took the gun out of his waistband and fired into the wall, making all of them jump, features blanching. “I’m really not in the fucking mood for this tonight. Keep your eyes away from my woman if you want t’keep them. I asked a fucking question, so answer it.”

Y/N flinched at the gunshot, her eyes wide with terror. She had only seen him like this a few times before, and it was terrifying each and every time. Her handed tightened her grip on his arm, trying to ground herself and offer some sort of comfort- if she could. Harry was different in this sort of scenario.

She silently cursed herself, her heart hammering out of her chest. Of course didn't like the attention from these men- it felt icky and objectifying, not in the way she liked either- but she didn't like seeing Harry resort to violence. Part of her was still sort of in denial at times about the different sides of him. Her sweet boy turned into this hardened man, it was always off putting her to see. The reminder of how dangerous the man was, despite how much she loved him, always had her knees feeling shaky.

No one spoke, making Harry exhale slowly. “I gave you a month. Plenty generous, I think. Sent my guys over here every week for updates. They said y’had it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know know better than to bullshit me?”

“It’s almost done, I promise. We just, we had an unexpected expense and we had to pull some of the funds-“ Harry didn’t think twice before he aimed the gun, placing a bullet in the guy’s shoulder. His face cold, unfeeling as he looked borderline bored. “I fail to see how that’s my problem. You borrowed from me, it was expected back now. I was the priority.”

Y/N gasped as Harry shot the man, her eyes fixed on the blood soaking through his shirt. She knew Harry had a temper, but seeing him this way was something else entirely. The calm, collected way he acted as if he had just done the most mundane thing in the world, it was chilling. No matter how many times she heard him talk about it, heard it in passing, it still shocked her each and every time it happened in front of her.

His irritation grew as he felt Y/N hide her face in his arm, lip twitching in a snarl. the first sign of emotion he’d had since walking in. “See what you’ve done? Made me shoot you, and now my girl’s uncomfortable.” Sharp eyes looked over to the head of the table, keeping his weapon out. “So do you magically have my money now? Or am I gonna have t’kill that son of a bitch and come back to pick you off one by one until I’ve got it?”

Y/N slowly pulled her face away from Harry, her ghroat thick at the tone of his voice and the pure irritation bubbling under the surface. She took in the scene before her, the man on the floor writhing in pain, the others around the table all stiff, their faces frozen. She was praying that for their sake, they had the money. Harry was notorious for not liking his income fucked with- even if he had millions that people had no idea about.

“We don’t have it yet, but you don’t have to kill anyone! I swear, next week-“ the man was cut off by the gun firing off again, finishing off the man on the ground. His struggles froze, his body still as the bullet took him out. Harry didn’t care. He had been lenient enough. “So have it next week, or one by one you’ll each end up like him.” Motioning to the body with his gun, he narrowed his eyes. “And if you have the stupid idea of running, don’t. I have you all surveillanced.”

Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched the man on the floor die, his life slipping away in a pool of his own blood. She glanced up at Harry, seeing the cold, calculating gaze he was giving the others. She knew he wasn't bluffing, he would do exactly as he said. Sometimes it was moments like this that made her understand exactly who she was with, made her wonder if it was worth it- but only for a mere moment. Realistically, she knew no one else had ever or would ever make her as happy as he would.

As soon as she was pulled out of the room, Harry led them out the back exit and gently pushed her into the waiting car, barking at Adam to drive. “M’sorry you had to see that, my angel.” His hand stroked her cheek softly. And there was the switch. The man she knew. the cool mask slipping off and the warmth gliding up his features, the fingers that had just pulled the trigger curling under her chin and those hard eyes looking so adoringly. it was hard to believe that just moment ago, he had killed someone in cold blood. “I know y’dont like that. I didn’t want our night out to end that way… was hopin’ they had the money so we could go get you something pretty.” His frown was laced with irritation before it softened again, lips twitching up. “Mm.. too bad. Guess we’re gonna have t’use some of Daddy’s other money, hm?”

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears as she looked up at Harry, his hand on her cheek was warm and gentle, a stark contrast to the cold brutality he had just displayed. She felt unsettled seeing this side of him, hated the way it made her feel so small and helpless. He wouldn’t stop and she knew that, but she also knew she couldn’t try and change him. "Harry, please..."

“Oh, baby…” He cooed, wiping over her chin. “Don’t cry, my love. Breaks my heart.” It wasn’t that he didn’t understand how it must affect her, but he simply didn’t think of all of it as devastating. The people in that room were bad people. They didn’t deserve mercy. Y/N was a sweet little thing, she saw the good in everyone. She saw they probably had families or lovers and all of that and cared for that rather than the fact they were bad people.

It was endearing, but he did worry for her.

"I know, I know." She sniffled, leaning into his touch. "It's just... hard for me to see you like that. You're always so kind and caring with me. It's hard to reconcile the two."

“Mhm. I know that, my heart. But you’re the only one who gets that side of me. S’all for you, yeah?” It wasn’t a secret. Harry was known for being cold blooded in the underground, and Y/N like a soft, fuzzy little bunny. She’d fallen right into the big bad wolf’s jowls and made a home there, submitting happily and stroking his teeth. He’d never seen himself as a relationship type of man, but the moment he saw her shy away and get flustered from him, he knew she was his. “Don’t need to shed any tears for that man. We’re gonna go get you somethin’ pretty, okay?” Tilting her chin up, he forced her gaze. “C’mon, baby. Give me those eyes.”

"Harry... I-" She swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in her throat down. Her eyes met his and she was met with a sense of warmth and safety. She didn't understand how he could be so violent and yet so gentle with her, but she couldn't deny it made her feel weirdly special.

“Alright. C’mere.” He sighed, pulling her into his lap and tucking her face into his chest. Sometimes it was hard for him to understand how she was so tender hearted and why he of all people had her love, but he had her now and he was selfish. There was no chance of letting go. “Tell me about what you did when I was gone, hm?” In reality he knew almost every detail. His girl was watched 24/7, protected, but she didn’t need to always be aware of it.

"W-well... I mostly just worked at the bakery." She murmured, feeling a sense of comfort in his embrace. She knew he had people around her, but she never felt threatened by them. Instead, she saw them as her protectors.

“Yeah? What did you make?” Even if he had insisted she didn’t need to work, she liked it. He was allowing it for now. She liked to bake and make treats, though he knew she would have been a little sad he wasn’t there to eat them. “Anything new?”

"Um, yeah... I tried making some new cupcakes. Chocolate peanut butter and strawberry basil- not all together though, cause that would be a little cross." She said, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the buttons on his shirt. The girl loved baking new things, but she always hoped he would like them too. It made her happy to see him enjoy her creations.

“Oh, wow. M’a little sad I didn’t get to try them.” His lips ghosted over her forehead, letting his facial hair tickle her skin. “Do you think you’ll be especially nice t’me this week and make them again so I can try?” His attempt of cheering her up was working, thankfully, because he wanted that smile after the bloody week he’d had.

"Maybe... if you beg." She teased, a small smile appearing on her lips. She looked up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, the stress from the day already seeming a little lighter. "But only if you promise to give me a kiss as soon as you get home tomorrow."

His eyes flashed, eyebrow high as she teased him. This was one of his favorite parts of her- how easily she gave into him and his love. Never once did she take it for granted. “Oh, I’ll give you far more than a kiss, little miss.” He purred, thumbing over her lip and watched it snap back into place. God, he loved that fucking mouth. “Daddy’s missed his angel. Been missing you so much while I was away..” Lightly pinching the plump bottom lip, he gazed over her face and saw that she was early getting the message. “Did you miss me too, my heart?”

She nodded eagerly, her heart skipping a beat at the possessive nickname and the gentle pinching of her lip. "I missed you so much, Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She loved when he called her his angel or his heart, it always made her feel so cherished and loved. She felt her body relax as she felt his gaze on her, his touch on her face, her lips. She couldn't believe she could miss someone so much, but she did, and his touch was slowly making her calm. There was no doubt in her heart that she could never deny him.

“How much, baby?” He crooned. “How much did y’miss me?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up at him. "I... I missed you so much, Daddy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I couldn't sleep at night without you, I couldn't eat without thinking of you, I just... I missed you so much."

Harry grinned widely at her emotional display, smug that he had gotten her here. As fucked up as it probably was, he wanted her to need him. Wanted her to be just as needy for him, crave him, never want to leave him- because there was no way in hell he was letting her go. Y/N belonged to him in every sense of the word. “Oh, my girl.” He chuckled. “I missed you too. M’glad that you think of me while I’m away.. but you don’t need to cry.” His voice was soft just for her, though he didn’t really care if Adam overheard. “S’so nice to have my girl miss me while I’m away. Gives me something to come home to.”

She nodded, wiping at her tears as he chuckled at her. There was nothing more she loved more than she loved that sound. It made her heart soar and her body shiver, it was her favorite sound in the whole world. Being one of the very few people who could make him react like that made her feel special. She loved him so much, and now that he was back, she could just relax in his presence.

“Now… do you want a necklace?” Moving forward, he wanted to spoil her some more. Give her a reward for listening to him while he was away, keeping herself safe. Just like he asked. “A bracelet? Earrings? Mmm… maybe some clothes? What does my angel want me to buy her?”

Y/N sniffled and looked up at him with shining eyes, her smile forming at the prospect of a reward. "A necklace, Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement. She loved getting jewelry from him, it made her feel like a job well done. Getting to wear something he had bought just for her had been the best part.. "Something pretty, please?"

“I doubt I can find anything as pretty as you, my heart… but we can try.” His lips pressed against her cheek, before tapping her nose. “Anything for you.”

——

Harry let her pull him around the shop, looking at the glittering jewels and precious stones. His hand firmly in hers, he watched with contentment as she looked over the selection, trying to understand which piece it was that she wanted. “Have you got your eye on anything?”

She shook her head, still staring at the necklaces. None of them seemed good enough for his money- or so she thought. Suddenly, her eyes lit up as she spotted a dainty gold chain with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. "Look at this one!" She squealed with excitement as she pulled him over to the necklace display, her hand tightly gripping his. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she pointed at a dainty gold chain with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. "Look, Harry! Isn't it perfect?"

“Absolutely.” His grin was gentle as he felt fondness take over his chest. This was the only time he felt this way. The only time he felt gentle and sweet and yearning to feel that all encompassing warmth, it was Y/N that made him happy. It was no wonder he was obsessed with her. Her joy and gratefulness were genuine. There was no hint of being spoiled even if he bought out a whole store. She would take anything, a rock even, and coo over it. He didn’t know much about or have much of an opinion about jewelry, but he did want her to make her feel happy. “There’s a matching bracelet too, you see it? would you like that too?” His fingers ran over her back as he looked back at her pretty face.

She nodded eagerly, feeling his fingers tracing over her back, sending a wave of warmth down her spine. "Yes, please!" Watchin on with glittering eyes as he picked up the matching gold bracelet with a small heart charm, she bounced on the balls of her feet. She watched as he paid for the necklace and bracelet, taking care of it without blinking an eye. There was no second thought as she wrapped her arms around his, tilting her chin up to look at him. The way he looked at her made her feel like the most precious thing in the world.

“You happy, love?” His other tattooed hand stroked over her hair as the sales assistant wrapped up the boxes. “We can do a proper shop later this week and get you some new clothes… know you’ve been good all week, so I think you deserve more than just some pretty jewelry. I’m just a little selfish with my alone time with you tonight.” The man had spent enough time away from her and having to control his hands.

She beamed up at him, nodding her head eagerly. "I would love that, H." she replied, letting out a little sigh of contentment as his hand ran through her hair. The way he pampered her and took care of her made understand just how much he adored her. For a man who could clear a room with a single glare, he sure as hell made it no secret how much he loved her. Spared no expense in taking care of her.

“Good. It’s settled then.” Harry kissed the top of her head before taking the bag holding their purchases. “Let’s get you home so I can see you put them on for me.”

—

When they arrived back to his place, he was quick to scoop her up in his arms. Jewelry bag hanging off his wrist, he held her bridal style as he climbed the staircase. In all honesty? He needed to be truly alone with her for a little bit. The whole time he had been away had been brutal, and to come home and have to go do some work had really fucking irritated him. He wasn’t bothered by the people he’d killed in the last few weeks, but he was bothered by the fact it had taken precious time away from spending with his girl.

She giggled as her body was bounced with each step he took, letting herself lean into him. Y/N safe in his arms, nuzzling her face into his neck as he carried her up the stairs, no complaints as she let him do as he pleased. She could sense the hint of tension in his body, the slight tightness in his jaw, and she knew exactly what it meant. He was stressed, and he needed her. She would never fully grasp the reasons why he did what he did, nor did she ever want to. He was a dangerous man, a killing machine, but he was hers and she loved him regardless. If he was flawed, so was she. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she breathed in his scent deeply, her fingers tracing small circles on his shoulder.

“Alright, my heart.” He started lowly, placing her down on to the bed. “Why don’t you put these on for me… and something else pretty.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. Yes, he towered over her, but he liked it that way. Harry liked to be in charge. “Something that shows that gorgeous body, how much of an angel you are. I missed my slice of heaven while I was away.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, her heart racing with excitement at his request. She loved when he talked to her like this, when he made her feel like a treasure to be admired an cherished. Like he didn’t have access to all the other luxuries in the world, and she was the only one he indulged in. She obeyed, slipping off the bed to go to her dresser.

Harry took the moment to go into the bathroom, freshening up. Taking his shirt off, washing his face and hands, cleaning up whatever could stain his precious girl. The only marks or stains he wanted on her were to be put in by him. Bite marks, mottled bruises from sucking or his thumbs or striking her plush flesh, he’d welcome those and those alone. Leaving the gun in his waistband, he strolled back out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, looking over his pretty girl.

She had listened.

“Oh, sweet little thing. You know how to make me happy.” Lingerie, soft looking and a light blue. his favorite.

Y/N smiled shyly, the grin deepening on her cheeks at his praise. She turned around slowly, giving him a full view of the lingerie he had requested. The light blue material contrasted her skin beautifully, almost making her glow under the room's lighting.

“God…” He sighed, pushing off the doorframe to approach her. “You are my gift. Someone sent the little angel down to hell for me, didn’t they?” Y/N was too bright for his world, but he made sure she knew she was the most important thing in it. “You are so gorgeous, my girl. Makes me so happy…” His fingers brushed the strap of her little babydoll top. “N’You love to make me happy, don’t you?”

Y/N bit her lip softly when he drew closer, a small whimper escaping as his fingers grazed her top strap. Her eyes half-lidded with the desire that he brought her, a soft smile gracing her lips, "Of course, I do... I love you."

“I love you more than you could ever fathom.” He whispered. “I’d kill armies for you. If it wouldn’t upset you, I’d gouge the eyes out of any man who looked too long.” Harry would shed liters of blood for her if need be. “But you’re my personal angel, sent t’make me happy. Sent to show me love… to help me.” his fingers trailed up her throat, gently clasping it in his grasp. He felt her swallow against his palm, a dark smile raising on his lips. “Are you going to help Daddy, baby?” Applying a tiny bit of pressure on the sides of her neck, he watched her eyes get hazy. “Hm? Gonna get on your knees for me and make me feel better?”

Y/N felt herself lean closer to him, the possessiveness and the darkness he exuded was addicting. His pet names for her, so sweet but borderline condescendingz she loved it. The way he touched her making her head feel so empty, but so alive at the same time.

"Yes, Daddy..." she whispered, eyes hooded with her arousal. She'd help him in any way he wished, even if it meant getting on her knees for him. It was what she was made for, his love for her pure and true but his actions wildly darkening that love.

“That’s my girl.” Keeping his hand around her throat, he kissed her hard. He’d been holding back most of the day, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from letting loose the moment he truly allowed himself to kiss her.

She moaned into the kiss, her hands instinctively going to his chest, nails scratching lightly into the tattooed skin. She could feel the tension radiating off him, his kiss hungry and bruising. It was moments like this that Y/N felt like she truly belonged with him.

The way his hand tightened around her throat made her tummy clench in the best way, the possessive hold sending a thrill down her spine. His lips were demanding, taking everything she could give and more. A metaphor for him. She felt herself getting lost in the kiss, her mind going blank as she gave into him completely.

“Open that mouth.” He demanded darkly. “Stick out that pretty tongue for me, baby.”

Y/N complied immediately, her lips parting and her tongue sticking out, trembling slightly as she looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. She loved when he spoke to her in that commanding tone, it made her feel so small and helpless in the best way possible.

He groaned deep, pursing his lips and spitting onto her tongue. Y/N knew better than to move, and when he spit a second time, he felt his cock stir as she whimpered for him. “That’s it. Swallow.”

She swallowed his spit as he commanded, not even bothering to close her mouth. Y/N could hear the praise in his tone, and that alone made her heart skip a beat. She would do anything for him; she'd proven that more than once.

“You’d do anything for your Daddy.” Harry crooned, taking his thumb and running it over her tongue. “You filthy little bitch. I love you so much.”

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears at the endearment, her devotion for him more the evident. She loved being called his dirty girl, his filthy bitch, his everything. She nodded eagerly, her mouth still open as she awaited his next command, her tongue still wet from swallowing his spit.

“Get on your knees.” he pulled his touch away momentarily. “Get my cock out. I’m pent up, my girl. Need you to get me relaxed before I take that pretty cunt.”

Without a second thought, she lowered herself down onto her knees as soon as he pulled away. Like the habit it was, she reached to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, taking a deep breath before grabbing the gun he had tucked in there and looked up at him in question.

“Safety’s on, sweetheart. Put it on the bed.”

Y/N carefully placed the gun on the bed, hands slightly shaking before reaching back into his pants to pull out his hard cock, stroking it a few times before looking back up at him, awaiting further instructions. She loved how big and heavy it felt in her hands, and she knew just how to make him relax. He’d taught her just how he liked it. Her plump lips were slightly parted, ready to wrap around his thick cock as she looked up at him, momentarily biting at her bottom lip. Her fingers gripped him tightly as she waited for his permission to worship him.

“Go ahead, pet. Show me how much you missed my cock.” Lazily he wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her face closer. “Give it some kisses.”

She moaned softly at his dirty words as he pulled her closer to him, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his cock before parting her lips wider and wrapping them around his hardness. Slowly, she sucked on the tip, her mouth stretching wide to accommodate his thick girth before popping off and making her way back down. She kissed and licked every inch of his cock, making sure to pay special attention to the head. Her hands fondled his balls, gently rolling them between her fingers as she pulled the tip back into her mouth again, keeping her eyes on him for his approval.

“That’s my filthy girl.” He laughed under his breath, slowly pulling her further down his cock. “Y’don’t know how badly I needed this all week. It was so fuckin’ annoying, y’know that?” Shaking his head, he felt her take what he fed into her mouth with no complaint. “Got half of my clothes soaked in blood… ruined my appetite half the time. And then, when I got back t’my room afterwards I didn’t even have my precious little cunt to fuck afterwards. Wasn’t fair.”

Her lips stretched further down his cock as he pulled her head down, her tongue lapping at his hardness as she listened to Harry's musings about his gruesome work week. She let out a soft, muffled moan around his cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him.

Her mouth felt like a warm, wet heaven on his cock. Every inch that disappeared between her lips was met with a satisfying suckle and the soft cushion of her tongue l. The velvety interior of her mouth enveloped him, her plump lips stretched around his width as her head bobbed up and down ever so slowly. Her saliva coated him, adding a slick layer to her movements as her tongue danced along the underside of his shaft.

His reaction was a pleased groan, his eyes rolling back in his head as he savored the feeling of her mouth on him. Hands tightened in her hair, guiding her head up and down his cock at a pace that was both slow and relentless, giving her time to breathe between sucks.

“Fuck… I needed this.” He sighed, slowly pulling her head off to let her take a breath before pushing her back down, making her take it further. “This perfect mouth. This is the only cock it’s ever gonna take.” He muttered darkly. “Right? You’re mine to fuck?”

"Yes," the gasp was wet in agreement, sound muffled with his cock still filling her mouth. She pulled back to look up at him, eyes wide and pupils dilated with lust. The possessiveness in his voice only made her hotter, making her core clench with want.

He groaned again, the sound deep and guttural as he felt her mouth envelop him again. His eyes glazed over with pleasure, a lazy smile crossing his lips at her words. He tangled his fingers back in her hair, encouraging her over and over again to take him as deep as she could. The room was filled with the sounds of his pleasure. The wet slurping of her mouth on his cock, the occasional moan escaping past her lips. His deep sounds of pleasure, punctuated by occasional curses as she took him deeper than before.

“You love it, don’t you baby? Love taking this cock down your slutty little throat.” He breathed hard, pushing her down until her nose brushed the thatch of groomed hair at his stomach. “Yeah… you do. That’s fucking perfect, choke on it. Choke- yeah, that’s my girl.” he growled, pulling her back and watching the strings of spit web from her mouth to his cock.

She coughed at his words, pulling back to take a much needed breath, but she didn’t stop. She kept her glazed over eyes locked on his, sucking him again as he pulled her back down on his cock, helping her take what they both needed over and over again.

Her chin was a mess, spit stringing from her mouth to his cock with each pull. Her lips were puffy and swollen, her mouth hanging open as she gasped for air between sucks. His cock was glistening with saliva, his balls heavy and slick with each thrust of her head.

“Fuck, yes.” He hissed, feeling his cock pulse inside of her mouth before finally pulling her off. “Need t’be in that cunt. Bend over the bed.”

As usual, Y/N did as she was told, still gasping for breath. She leaned over the edge of the bed, her ass in the air as she braced herself with her arms, spreading her knees wide. Arms shook slightly as she held herself up, her back arched as she presented her ass to him. Her pussy was dripping, the juices running down her thighs and pooling on the bed. Her hole was puffy and slick, the lips slightly parted to reveal her clit, already starting to swell with need.

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the sight of her pussy nearly making him cum right then and there. She was so open, so vulnerable, and it was all for him.

“You are a vision.” he murmured, brushing his hand over her. The little angel had forgone panties under her babydoll, the smartest choice when it came to his tendencies. “Poor little pussy… did it miss me, too?” His fingers slid down and over her slippery slit, spreading her open. “Did you touch it while Daddy was gone, getting all the money so he can buy you pretty things?

She let out a soft whimper at his touch, her hips bucking slightly as his fingers spread her open. "Y-yes, Daddy." Shyly, she admitted it, her voice a hesitant whisper. "I missed you so much, and my pussy kept getting wet thinking about you."

“Oh, darling.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he looked down at her. “You know you’re supposed to wait for me…”

She sniffled, her face pressing into the bed as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance. "I'm sorry, Daddy... I just couldn't help it. Every time I thought about you, I would touch myself and imagine it was your fingers inside me..."

“Yeah?” His tone was painted with intrigue. “And what exactly did you dream about Daddy doing to your little holes, hm?”

She let out a soft little moan, her body trembling beneath his touch as she felt his fingers teasing her entrance. "I… I dreamed about you taking me roughly, Daddy. I imagined your thick cock stretching me out and filling me up completely… N’I dreamed about you punishing me for being a bad girl, Daddy," she continued, her voice breathless. "I imagined you spanking me until I cried, and then taking me hard from behind... It made me so wet..."

Harry let out a deep sigh, stroking his cock with his other hand as he admired her bare pussy, glistening and wet. “You know… This is why you’re perfect for me. Such a sweet, angelic little thing most of the time… but let me move wrong, and your filthy cunt is weeping and you’re ready to be a proper whore for me.”

She shivered at his words, her body responding to the word she had been waiting all week to hear. Sure, she knew he wouldn’t be fully pleased at the idea of her touching herself but she knew he would understand this instance. "Yes, Daddy… I can't help it. You bring out this side of me that no one else does. Wanna be your little whore, Daddy, please…” She backed into him. “Use me however you want." Her voice cracked with desperation. "Spank me, choke me, fuck me rough... Just please, make me yours completely. I'm your girl, your little fucktoy... Use me however you see fit."

A chuckle sounded in the room as his hand pulled back, smacking against her wet cunt. Sharp and stinging, he watched her cunt get slicker, ass pushing into him as he did it again. “There she is. There’s my slut.” He sighed in relief. “You know I love you… but you know how much your little holes love to be filled.”

She squealed and writhed at each blow, but her legs apread wider and her moans grew louder. She craved his roughness, craved his filthy words and his cock. All she had been wanting to do was make him feel good, and there was no doubt that they’d both get what they wanted. "Yes, Daddy." She mewled, her body aching for him to continue.

With each slap to her pussy, Y/N's eyes rolled back in pleasure. She was completely at Harry's mercy and she reveled in it. Her body was racked with shudders as he continued to spank her, and her hand snaked down to rub her clit.

“Who told you to do that?” The man scoffed, pushing her hand away. “You had enough self pleasure. Think you forgot about the fact that this cunt belongs to me.” His hand sharply smacked her clit again with his fingertips, watching her body jolt. “Played with this little button while Daddy was out there, covered in blood. All so you can be a little princess at home.”

Her voice was breathy and full of desire as she pleaded with him, "Only because you were gone so long. I needed release, Daddy." She spread her legs wider, silently begging him to touch her again. "Please, forgive me."

“God, you really are a desperate little thing.” He laughed in awe. “If it didn’t drive me mad, I’d leave more often. Make you this desperate for me when I come back… Make you beg and cry for my cock.” The taunt had her shaking her head as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling them slightly as he began to fuck them into her. “Tell me you love me.”

"I love you," The girl whimpered, her hips thrusting back to meet his fingers. She was so wet and ready for him, her pussy clenching around his fingers as he fucked her harder. "Please, daddy, I need you so bad."

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.” He pulled his fingers out, teasing his cock over her clit. Using the arousal left in his fingers and the spit as lubrication, he nestled the tip of his cock at her entrance. “Tell me that you’re going to be my little angel forever, and I’ll give you that cock.”

"I'll never leave you," she promised, her voice shaking with need. "I'll always be your little angel, Harry. Forever and ever." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, desperate for him to claim her as his own. "Please, daddy, fuck me. Need it."

“Never fucking forget it.” His cock was thick, achingly so, as it began spreading her open as he pushed it inside of her. Y/N was always tight, always hot for him, and it never wavered. He let out a little groan as he felt her cunt flutter around him as he pushed himself further inside, wrapping a hand around her hair and tugging her up further. “You’ll never leave me, because m’not gonna let you. M’gonna make you my wife, make you mine in every fucking way possible.” He shallowly jumped into her as he worked his length in.

Her back arched, the stretch feeling oh so good. She moaned and bit her back lip as he pushed the rest of himself inside of her, completely filling her up. His words made her heart surge and tears appeared in her eyes, knowing how hard it would be to remain his calm and rational force.

"Y-yes, daddy," she stammered out, her voice trembling with desire. "Make me yours." She spread her legs wider and pushed her hips up to meet his thrusts, taking him deeper inside of her.

Harry's grip on her hair tightened as he heard her agree, a sly smirk appearing on his face. His thrusts began, deep and slow as he bottomed out each time pushing her further onto the bed with each push inside. His eyes were wild with desire, watching as Y/N submitted to him so readily. It was exactly how it should be, how they both wanted it. “Think we need t’make it official now.” He breathed, hand brushing over as ass. “Think we need to ink my name on this pretty skin. Where should we do it?” Watching his cock sink into her over and over had him worked up. “Should we put it right above your ass, hm? so there’s no doubt I own it?”

She gasped as his hand brushed over her ass, the idea of having his name permanently inked on her body making her shudder. "Yes daddy, I want that." Maybe she was mindlessly agreeing from how good it felt, but she felt slightly crazy for liking that idea. A small moan squeaked out as she felt him thrust deeper, her body aching for more.

"Above your ass, right where I can see it every time I spank it," The man agreed, his hand leaving her ass to reach up and grab her chin, forcing her to turn to look at him. "And maybe a permanent necklace on your neck with my name, so everyone knows you belong to me. Get a nice little lock that only I have the key to." Harry's fingers dug into her chin, his grip unyielding as he held her gaze captive. His other hand never left her ass, occasionally giving it a firm slap as he spoke. "I want to see my name on you, skin or necklace, marked as mine for everyone to see."

She was too good to let go of. He never knew of someone who was so good at keeping him calm and yet able to elicit such extreme reactions from him. He’d always been cold and calculated- it’s how he was good at his jobs- but something in this woman had melted the ice around his heart. Lit him on fire. “Fuck, this ass is mine. This cunt is mine… No other cock is ever going in there again.”

Y/N's cheeks flushed at his possessive words, her body aching for his touch once more. She never wanted to be with anyone else, as Harry had somehow managed to break down the walls she once had up. "Only you, daddy." She arched her back, pressing herself further against him with a soft moan. He has always been a little rough with her, but she loves it, loves him. "Do you want me to say it again? How you’re the only man I want."

Again- she was perfect. He nearly laughed at how she knew exactly what he wanted, making him push her back down so her cheek was on the mattress. “Yeah. Tell me, baby. Need to give your cunt a better fuck.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she felt his strong hands grip her hair, pushing her face into the mattress. She loved when he was rough with her, it only turned her on more. She opened her mouth, speaking softly into the pillow as he demanded. "My cunt belongs only to you, daddy."

She felt his hand run down her back, grabbing a handful of her ass. She was glad she had worn something that showcased her assets for him. "I'm the only one who can make you scream my name, the only one who will ever be deep inside you."

She felt his hand leave her ass, only for it to return with a firm slap. The sting of pain made her gasp, but only served to heighten the pleasure coursing through her body. "Yes!" She cried out as he entered her once more, filling her to the brim.

She shifted her hips down to meet his thrusts, desperate for more contact. "Daddy, deeper. Please, fuck me deeper." She pleaded with him, gripping the sheets tightly as her body arched against him. "Are you going to fill me up, give me what I need?"

“Greedy.” He snarled, picking up the pace. “Greedy little bitch for my cock. For my cum…” The little whimper she let out at the mention made him chuckle. “Yeah… I know what my sweet little whore wants. Jus’ needs my load dripping out of that puffy hole…” He groaned as she clenched around him. “Thought about it when I was gone. How it’s time to make you permanent. Make you my wife…” He felt her buck back into him. “Can quit the job and bake just for me, be a good little housewife for me.”

Y/N's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he spoke those words. The thought of being his in that way, his wife, it was everything she wanted. She loved the idea of quitting her job and dedicating herself entirely to him, being his perfect little housewife.

"Yes, Daddy. I-I want to be yours like that, wanna be your wife. I'll quit my job and be your perfect little housewife. I'll cook, clean, and bake just for you. I'll wear the clothes you like and do whatever you say. I'll be yours completely. Never wanna to be free from you." She moaned as he slammed into her with renewed vigor. "Do whatever you want with me, as long as you never stop fucking me."

“Fuck… I knew you were meant to be mine.” The answer stroked something in him, a new level of obsession breaking through. He’d known she was going to be his since he set eyes on her, but hearing such a needy and solid agreement to what she should want made his life easier. It was her path, the one he carved out for her. “Oh, baby… m’never gonna stop using your pussy. And that ass…” His thumb rolled over it. “But right now M’gonna focus on that pussy. Think it needs practice for when m’ready to knock you up.”

Her breath hitches at his words, a new surge of pleasure flooding her system. The idea of him breeding her, of making her pregnant with his children, was the most erotic thing she'd ever heard. "Yes- fuck. Please, fill me up with your cum and make me pregnant." She cried out as she felt him thrusting harder and faster, his thumb rubbing her ass as he spoke. The thought of carrying his child was the hottest thing she'd ever imagined. "H-Harry."

The idea was enticing. Even further trap her with him, add another layer to it… He would deliberate later. “Mm.. Just practice for right now, my angel.” His voice softened. “Want t’have you as my pretty little housewife for a bit before I knock you up full, but I’ll give you my cum….” His smile returned. “If you really think you deserve it.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with desire as she looked up at him. "Mhm, daddy, I deserve it. I'll be such a good little housewife for you. I'll cook and clean and take care of you, anything you want. Just please, give me your cum and practice breeding me."

Harry pulled out of her, grabbing her hips and tossing her into her back before slipping back inside of her. He wanted to see her face, watch her as he said these things and filled up that perfect cunt that was so snug around him. “I’ll kill anyone who wants you.” He murmured. “Gun, knife, my bare hands. I’ll kill them for thinking about you.” His hand collared her throat as he gave slower thrusts, a contrast to his brutal words. “I’ll make it clear to anyone who has the privilege of looking at you that they can’t have you, even in their thoughts. Because you belong t’me, my angel.”

Her face flushed with a mix of arousal and adoration as she looked up at Harry. She knew he would protect her, keep her safe and loved. The possessiveness in his words only added fuel to her desire for him, her body trembling beneath his touch as he choked her gently.

Her eyes watered slightly from the pressure of his hand on her throat, her body squirming and arching towards him with need as he thrust into her again and again.

Nails dug into his back, leaving crescent moons in their wake as she moaned and gasped for breath, her body trembling with pleasure and need beneath him. "Harry..." She whimpered softly, her voice strained and needy as she begged for more. "Please..."

“Yeah? You’re okay with that, my heart?” His eyes were dark and hot, staring into her own. “You don’t mind if Daddy kills for you? Because I’m looking forward to their blood on my hands.” He purred, the deep thrusts getting harder, full balls smacking against her ass. “Won’t mind being pretty in our kitchen, me coming home and washing the blood off my hands before I use them to make you cum?”

Her eyes rolled back in her head as he spoke, the dark promise of his words sending shivers down her spine. She loved how possessive and protective he was, how he would kill for her and make a mess in their home. It was so wrong, so fucked up, but it was everything she craved. That dark piece of her that he had exposed and had embraced was something he cherished, made her feel normal.

Her back arched against the bed, pushing her breasts out and up as she felt herself crawling closer to her climax, every smack of his balls against her ass making her whimper and moan. "Daddy..."

At her plea, Harry's expression twisted into something feral and possessive, his eyes burning with an unholy hunger. He leaned forward, his teeth sinking into the side of her neck as he fucked her harder, his thrusts becoming brutal and punishing.

Y/N's back arched off the bed, her breath hitching at the mix of pain and pleasure. He wanted to claim her, mark her as his while he fucked her to the edge of no return and back.

The bite on her neck made her let out a strangled whimper, a sound filled with pained pleasure and submission. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her nails digging into the fabric as Harry fucked her relentlessly, her body bouncing on the bed with every hard thrust. Blood dribbled from the bite on her neck, trailing down her skin as Harry continued to fuck her with vicious abandon. His balls slapped against her ass with a sickening smack, the sound echoing through the room along with her desperate moans and his growled curses.

“That’s fucking right.” He grunted between thrusts. He knew she liked a bit of pain but how tight she had gotten around his cock, how she had gushed, it made him understand that his angel was more of a masochist than he had ever realized. “You’re gonna happily take my dick in those holes whenever I want, because you love me, don’t you? You’ll let me fuck away all my anger and be the sweetest place to unload my cum…” He wanted to hear it again, even with his fingers pressing into her throat. “Tell me, my heart. Use that gorgeous mouth.”

Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head as Harry's words washed over her, his fingers tightening around her throat, smearing the blood on her skin. She struggled to breathe, her vision blurring at the edges as she fought to gasp out air. "Y-yes... I love you... I'll take your dick anywhere... anytime...” It was hard to think straight with his cock hitting her perfectly. "I'll be your toy, your angel, your wife, your everything," She choked out, her voice barely audible over the sound of their harsh panting. Harry's fingers squeezed harder, cutting off her air supply until he let her breath, the rush of air making her shudder. “Wanna cum. Wanna cum, please, H. Please make me cum.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. His thrusts became erratic, his hips slamming against Y/N's ass with feral force as he chased his own release. He released his grip on her throat just long enough to grab her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, the teeth marks from the bite, the blood smeared on her skin. She was the prettiest picture, bloody skin, hazy eyes and swollen lips. His personal angel under him, letting him sin with her body. Letting him corrupt her, dragging her down to hell with him. Leaning down, he nuzzled his nose against hers before pulling back. “Cum. Cum for me, make a fucking mess."

As Harry’s release built, so did hers. She could feel the warmth spreading between them, slicking her thighs as she writhed under his grasp. Her whimpers turned into gasps and desperate pleas as he brought her closer to the edge. “Yes, yes...” Y/N could hold back no longer. As her orgasm broke, she arched her back, her nails digging into his arms as she called out his name. The intense pleasure rolled over her again and again, a blinding tidal wave crushing down on her.

Her entire body trembled, shuddered, spasmed as Harry fucked her through the first orgasm as it rolled into another orgasm. The pleasure was overwhelming, the building pressure suddenly released and Y/N’s mind went blank, senses heightened as she experienced a pure moment of ecstasy.

As Y/N's orgasm subsided, Harry let out a guttural moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his own climax. His hands tightened around her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he fucked her harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. “Beg for my cum.” He demanded, slipping his hand up to hold her jaw. “Beg me to make you mine, for me to keep you, and I’ll give you my load.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, his grip on her jaw tightening as she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. “Please...” she whispered softly, the single word filled with meaning and need. “Make me yours, Harry. Keep me for your own. “I beg you, Harry...” Her voice was a soft murmur, barely audible as she whispered her plea. “Please cum inside me, make me yours. I want to feel you fill me up, I want to bear your mark.”

Harry's eyes squeezed shut as he reached orgasm, his body tensing and freezing as he released inside Y/N with a groan. The grip on her tightened, fingers digging into her skin as he felt his orgasm tear through him, so much pleasure that he almost felt pain.

Thick ribbons of cum shot deep inside her, coating her insides and marking her as his own. Harry's hips continued to jerk, his body shudders with each pulse of his release, as if he couldn't get enough of her, couldn't get deep enough. His cock throbbed and spasmed, pumping out an endless stream of hot, sticky cum into her waiting cunt. The room filled with the sound of his grunt, the slap of his hips against her ass, and the gush of his seed inside her. He felt her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him deeper. A satisfied groan escaped him, a sex drunk smile raising on his face as he kissed her deep, messy, but he didn’t care. He was happy for the first time since he’d left her side to go on ��business’.

Y/N's arms wrapped tightly around Harry's neck, holding him close as he continued to fill her with his cum. She kissed him back just as deeply, her lips moving against his in a sloppy, loving mess. She moaned into the kiss, feeling so full and satisfied, so loved and cherished. Even with how rough he got, how dirty their need was, there was no doubt in her mind how he felt.

“There you go, my heart. Take every drop.” He murmured, slowly fucking the cum into her. “Practicing making it stick. This is how M’gonna knock you up, when I feel the time is right.” He brushed the hair out of her face, body feeling lighter and head less cluttered. Y/N was his medicine, his heart. “I love you. You’re never leaving me.”

A blush spread across her cheeks at Harry's words, a soft smile on her lips. "I love you too," She whispered back, pulling him closer for another deep kiss. She could feel the warmth of his cum inside her, a reminder of how much he had craved her.

“Good.” He stroked over the bridge of her nose and down to her lips, smearing their spit around. “M’gonna make that appointment for my name right above your ass. You’re going to quit that job and be my little housewife, and you’re gonna love every bit of it.”

She giggled at his words, her heart swelling with happiness. "I'd love that," she replied, her voice soft and full of affection. She could already imagine it, waking up every morning to make him breakfast and taking care of their future children.

“Yeah? That’s my girl.” He didn’t mention that now that his mind was made up there wasn’t much room to move the plan, but she knew that. Y/N knew that Harry loved her, but he was in charge. “Gonna take you on a shopping spree tomorrow, get you that ring…” It wasn’t the most romantic proposal but it didn’t need to be. Harry had decided she was going to marry him, and she would do it because she was good and she loved him right back.

She nodded excitedly at the thought of a shopping spree and a new ring. She knew that Harry wasn't the most romantic man, but she didn't need grand gestures to know that he loved her. The fact that he wanted to marry her was enough for her. "Anything for you, Daddy.”

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suiana · 8 months ago

Text

(yandere! gym rat x gn! pilates princess/prince/liege)

"cutie! you're back again!"

"...yes? this is a public gym."

you stare at the buff man before rolling your eyes and going back to doing your squats.

he's weird, you think. always watching you, trying to chat you up while not so subtly mentioning how he knows where you stay and some private life details.

you don't want to get close to him even if he seems nice.

i mean, he looks and acts pretty dumb. kinda like a beefy himbo. but what if he isn't a himbo? you'd be in a precarious situation then. men are emotional creatures after all. who knows what he'd do?

"hey want me to spot you! you're doing squats-"

"yeah, without weights. i think I'll be fine, thank you very much."

you snap at him, eyes narrowed as you turn up the volume of your music. ugh, will he just leave you alone? all you ever want is to exercise in peace! do your silly little pilates... but no! he has to annoy you all the time!

"w-well... if you need me I'll be in my corner... doing pilates... you know, because i picked it up for you..."

you glance at him as he walks to his pink mat near you, pitifully getting on his knees as he does some pilates exercises. you would've totally ignored him if not for the moans and whimpers he let out with each rep he did.

you pause your squats, raising an eyebrow as your cheeks flush slightly red. was he always this noisy even with his normal exercises?

"dude can you shut- and you're not doing it right... you need to do it like this."

you walk up to him, taking off your headphones as you adjust his position. hopefully this would help him to shut up... he probably just made the noise because he wasn't in the correct pose. your hands brush against his sweaty skin, helping him to get into the correct position instead.

but as you were doing so, he let out even more noises, flustering you beyond belief. what the heck?! can he just shut up?!

you immediately retract your hands, staring at him like he just murdered somebody before walking away.

nuh uh, you're not dealing with freaky men anymore. you tried helping him but he just wouldn't stop his silly acts.

"s-sweetie wait! I'm sorry! please keep going!"

the male whines, immediately crawling after you as his cheeks flush a beautiful hue of red. however, you obviously ignored him, walking back to your own mat as you resumed your squats, headphones plugged in with music blasting loudly.

ugh, so he really is a weird beefy himbo.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere gym rat #yandere gym rat x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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dollgxtz · 1 month ago

Text

His Watchful Eye Pt.15

Word Count: 25.5k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, possession, forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, tw if u have tokophobia, pet names like kitten, sweetie, honey, xavier appears, attempted murder, threats, suicide threats

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh @eliasxchocolate @nozomiaj @xmiisuki @sylus-kitten @its-regretti @ve1vet-cake @letgobro @starkeysslvt @yarafic @prince-nikko @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @someone-somewheres-stuff @zaynesjasmine1 @honnylemontea @altariasu @sorryimakira @pearlymel @emidpsandia @angel-jupiter @hwangintakswifey @webmvie @housesortinghat @shoruio @gojos1ut @solomonlover @mysssticc @elegantnightblaze @mavphorias @babylavendersblog @burntoutfrogacademic @sinstae @certainduckanchor @ladyackermanisdead @sh4nn @milkandstarlight @lilyadora @nyumin @kiwookse @anisha24-blog1 @weepingluminarytale @riamir @definitionistato @xxhayashixx @adraxsteia @hargun-s @cayraeley @xxfaithlynxx @palomanh @spaceace111 @euridan

AN: This is on A03! Pls heed the tw!! This is an intense chapter and its okay to put it down and come back later. Take care! <3

Check my masterlist for the other parts!

“I did all of this. For you,” Xavier said, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. He stood frozen, his shoulders tense, his fists trembling at his sides as he stared at you. “You left with me. You wanted to kiss me too… in the cabin.” His tone grew quieter, almost disbelieving, as though he couldn’t reconcile what had just happened with what he thought you shared.

Xavier’s voice cracked again, barely above a whisper. “Tell me. Was it really a lie?”

Sylus wasn’t a stupid man. In fact, he prided himself on his ability to see through others, to read them like open books no matter how tightly they tried to shut their covers. To know even their deepest desires. And today, you had been an especially transparent read. The slight changes in your tone, the fleeting glances you cast around the mall, the way your fingers twitched nervously when you thought he wasn’t looking—it all painted a clear picture. You had been planning something from the moment you stepped foot outside the car.

Still, he had allowed it to play out. Part of him had hoped, against better judgment, that you might surprise him. That for once, you might set aside whatever fire still smoldered inside you and truly appreciate the lengths he had gone to for this day. The shopping trip, the presents, the brief taste of freedom—it had all been for you. A chance for you to feel a semblance of normalcy before the baby arrived, a chance to understand the life he was building for you and your daughter.

But you were predictable, as always. He had given you an inch, and you had taken a damn mile.

As he stood by the railing outside the store, watching from a distance, he felt no anger. At least, not the fiery kind that consumed lesser men. No, Sylus’s anger was a cold thing, methodical and patient. He had learned long ago that rage blinded the mind, and he preferred to see things with perfect clarity. And now, as his sharp crimson eyes followed you across the store, clarity was all he felt.

There you were, running straight into the arms of him. The ash-blond man with those annoyingly sincere blue eyes. Xavier.

Sylus watched as the two of you embraced, your body trembling as you clung to him like a lifeline. Xavier’s arms wrapped around you with a possessiveness that made Sylus’s jaw tighten. It wasn’t just the embrace that irked him—it was the look in Xavier’s eyes. The way they softened as he gazed down at you, as though he had every right to hold you like that. As though Sylus hadn’t already claimed you.

The sight should have infuriated him. And yet, Sylus remained calm. He couldn’t bring himself to feel the boiling rage that others might have in his place. No, this wasn’t anger—it was confirmation. Proof that Xavier had to be dealt with, once and for all.

The faintest smirk tugged at Sylus’s lips as he watched Xavier grab your hand, his movements hurried and frantic as he led you out of the store. Sylus knew exactly where the two of you were headed. The parking lot. Of course. It was laughable, really—this desperate attempt to run, as if Sylus didn’t already have his web spun tightly around you in more ways than one.

How quaint.

Sylus turned, his steps measured and deliberate as he began walking toward the mall’s main entrance. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone, dialing without hesitation. The line clicked almost immediately.

“Have the car ready,” Sylus said, his voice calm and smooth, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. “We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Yes, sir,” came the twins’ simultaneous reply before the line went dead.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Sylus continued toward the glass doors, the faint hum of mall activity buzzing around him. He passed by the bustling food court, his mind turning over possibilities with calculated precision. What would Xavier’s next move be? Would he drive you straight out of the city? Find a safe house? Attempt to flee beyond his reach?

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. You could run as far as you'd like, he would find you. He had proven that before, and he would prove it again.

His thoughts drifted to you, to the desperation in your eyes as you’d clung to Xavier. Did you think this was freedom? Did you truly believe that running to another man’s arms would save you? Sylus’s chest tightened as he imagined the way you must have felt—hopeful, relieved, like a bird released from a cage. But you hadn’t escaped anything. Not really.

“My little dove,” he murmured to himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Fly as far as you like. Your cage will always be just behind you.”

The glass doors of the mall slid open as Sylus stepped outside, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. He paused for a moment, glancing around with a faint smirk. His car was already idling by the curb, the twins standing attentively by the doors, their bodies relaxed but ready. He made his way toward them with the same unshakable composure he always carried, his mind already working through the steps ahead.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Sylus climbed into the car, leaning back against the seat as he stared out the window. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, his eyes glinting in the bright light. The game had shifted, and the hunt was on. But he wasn’t worried.

Because he always won.

You flew into Xavier’s arms, clinging to him as though letting go would rip him away forever. Your body trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down your cheeks in hot, unrelenting waves. Every ounce of strength you’d used to hold yourself together for months crumbled in an instant, leaving nothing but raw emotion in its place. His arms wrapped around you tightly, grounding you in a way you hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. His warmth, his scent—everything about him screamed safety, familiarity, home.

It was real. This had to be real.

Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest, your fists gripping his shirt with a desperation that felt primal. “This…isn’t a dream, right?” you whispered, your voice broken, barely audible between your gasping sobs. “You’re real?”

Xavier’s arms tightened around you, his voice low and steady, a soft balm against your chaos. “I promise I’m real, my love,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and the tenderness of it made your heart clench painfully.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your face pressed against the fabric of his shirt. You could feel the faint thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring, a rhythm you had yearned for but feared you might never hear again. For months, you’d clung to the fragile hope that you’d find him, but now that he was here, holding you, it felt like an impossible dream.

But the dream crashed into reality when you felt a sharp kick from your belly. You froze for a moment, the sensation pulling you back to the present. Your daughter moved again, a firm reminder of her presence. You shifted slightly, and Xavier stiffened, his body instinctively adjusting as if to shield you. His gaze dropped, and you knew he felt it too—the undeniable proof of your pregnancy.

His hands loosened slightly, giving you space as he stepped back just enough to look down at you. His blue eyes widened as they flickered to the swell of your stomach, his expression shifting from relief to surprise, then to something gentler—something you couldn’t quite read.

The shame hit you like a tidal wave. Heat rushed to your face as your tears faltered, and you quickly averted your gaze, unable to bear the silent question lingering between you. You opened your mouth, scrambling for words, for a way to explain what couldn’t be explained. “This…this isn’t what it looks like,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t willingly—”

“Shh.” Xavier’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, calm and firm yet full of compassion. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that still clung to your skin. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his gaze locking with yours. “I know. I know.”

His words sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there was no time to dwell on it. His grip on your hand tightened, and the softness in his expression hardened into sharp focus. His eyes darted toward the entrance of the store, scanning the area with practiced precision.

“We can’t talk here,” he said quietly, urgency lacing his words. “There’s no time. He’s not dumb. He’s probably already realized you’re not coming back.”

Your stomach churned at his words. He was right. Sylus was many things, but careless wasn’t one of them. If he hadn’t already figured out what was happening, it wouldn’t be long before he did. You could practically feel the weight of his presence, the intensity of his gaze, even though he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Xavier’s hand on yours kept you steady as he began guiding you out of the store. His movements were purposeful, each step measured but swift. Your heart pounded in your chest, so loud you could barely hear the ambient noise of the mall around you—the faint murmur of shoppers, the echo of footsteps on polished floors, the distant hum of escalators.

Your eyes darted around nervously, scanning for any sign of Sylus. Every passing shadow, every sudden movement made your pulse spike. The fear that had been simmering in the back of your mind now roared to life, a suffocating weight pressing down on you.

“Keep moving,” Xavier whispered, his voice barely audible but commanding. He cast another glance over his shoulder, his body tense, ready for anything. “We’re almost there.”

The two of you weaved through the crowd, the press of bodies both a comfort and a curse. On one hand, they shielded you, made it harder for anyone to track you. But on the other, every stranger’s face felt like a threat, every curious glance like a dagger aimed at your heart.

As you approached the mall’s glass doors, the cool evening air beyond them became a beacon, a promise of freedom. You focused on that sliver of light, letting it guide you, letting it fuel the hope that was slowly beginning to grow.

But your legs felt heavy, like they might give out at any moment. The adrenaline that had carried you this far was starting to falter, leaving behind the exhaustion of months spent holding everything together. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

Finally, the two of you reached the doors, and Xavier pushed them open with one hand, keeping the other firmly on yours. The cool air hit your face, a sharp contrast to the stifling tension inside. For the first time in what felt like forever, you took a deep, steadying breath.

But it wasn’t over yet. You weren’t free yet.

“Stay close,” Xavier said, his tone protective as he led you toward the parking lot. His grip on your hand was firm but gentle, a tether that kept you grounded as the world spun around you.

You nodded, unable to form words as your mind raced with a hundred possibilities. What if Sylus was already out here? What if he was watching, waiting? You couldn’t afford to think about it. Not now. Not when freedom was so close you could almost taste it.

The two of you moved quickly, Xavier’s steps confident and unrelenting as he navigated through the rows of parked cars. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see Sylus’s crimson eyes cutting through the air. But the parking lot was quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of car alarms.

As Xavier reached into his pocket for his keys, you couldn’t stop the question that slipped from your lips. “What now?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Xavier turned to you, his expression both determined and gentle. “Now, we get you out of here. Both of you.” His hand rested briefly but hesitantly on your belly, his touch reassuring. “And then we figure out where to keep you so your safe. For good this time.”

His words sent a shiver through you—not of fear, but of hope. For the first time in months, you felt like escape wasn’t just a dream. It was a possibility.

As Xavier opened the car door and helped you inside, you cast one last glance at the mall behind you. The faint flicker of lights, the bustling crowds, the life you were leaving behind.

And somewhere in the shadows, you knew Sylus was watching. Waiting.

But for now, you were free.

The hum of the car engine filled the heavy silence, a low and constant reminder of the miles slipping by. Outside the windows, the scenery blurred into a muted palette of greens and grays, the fading light of morning casting long shadows across the road. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your mind racing with thoughts that felt too big to untangle.

Xavier hadn’t said much since you climbed into the car. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles pale against the leather. His jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if the act of driving required every ounce of his attention. The silence between you was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and the weight of everything you’d both endured.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Why didn’t you come for me sooner?” you asked, your voice quiet but sharp, cutting through the stillness like a blade. You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but the question had been burning in your mind ever since he had come for you.

Xavier flinched slightly at the words, his shoulders tensing as he exhaled through his nose. For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and you thought he might brush the question off entirely. But then, he spoke, his voice low and steady, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—regret? Shame?

“He blackmailed me.”

You blinked, startled by the admission. “What?”

Xavier’s grip on the wheel tightened further, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he continued. “Sylus. He blackmailed me. He made it impossible for me to act without risking everything.”

Your breath caught, confusion and disbelief swirling in your chest. “What do you mean? Blackmailed you how?”

Xavier hesitated, his jaw working as if he were weighing the words before saying them aloud. “It started after you disappeared,” he began, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “I was looking for you. I left no stone unturned, no lead unexplored. I didn’t care what it took—I was going to find you. But Sylus…” He shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He made sure I couldn’t.”

The weight of his words sank into your chest, leaving you breathless. “What did he do?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Xavier finally glanced at you, his blue eyes dark with a mix of anger and guilt. “He threatened to hurt you if I kept looking. To hurt people who had nothing to do with this too."

Your stomach twisted as the pieces began to fall into place. You’d known Sylus was ruthless, manipulative, but hearing it from Xavier made it all feel more real. “He…he threatened to hurt me?” you whispered, horrified. You almost couldn't believe it.

Xavier nodded stiffly, his hands flexing on the steering wheel. "He had his eyes everywhere, his reach in places I didn’t even know existed. He made it clear that finding you would come at a cost—and not just to me.”

A wave of guilt and sorrow crashed over you, rendering you speechless. You turned away, staring out the window as you tried to process what he was saying. The silence returned, heavier now, laden with the weight of his confession and the reality of what Sylus had done to both of you.

You felt like you should say something, offer some kind of comfort, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you sat there, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts that refused to settle.

“I didn’t stop looking for you,” Xavier said after a long moment, his voice breaking the silence again. There was a quiet desperation in his tone now, a need for you to understand. “I couldn’t. But I had to be careful, deliberate. Every step I took felt like walking a tightrope, and I knew one wrong move could…” He trailed off, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I hated it. Every second of it.”

You nodded slowly, though your gaze remained fixed on the passing trees. “I didn’t know,” you murmured, your voice shaking. “I didn’t realize he…” The words failed you, leaving you to sink further into the silence.

For the next few minutes of the drive, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of your breathing. But the tension in the car was no longer suffocating—it was raw and open, a quiet acknowledgment of everything that had been stolen from both of you.

"You know…he blackmailed me too kinda," you said softly, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the car. Your voice was tentative, almost drowned out by the faint hum of the engine. You kept your gaze on the road ahead, unable to meet Xavier’s eyes as the weight of your words settled in the confined space.

Xavier glanced at you, his blue eyes earnest and filled with quiet concern. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready,” he said gently. His voice was steady, warm—a stark contrast to the turmoil raging in your chest.

You shook your head slowly, your hands trembling as they rested on your belly. “No,” you whispered. “It’s fine. I want you to know. You deserve to know.”

He didn’t push, didn’t press for details. Instead, he waited, his silence giving you the space to gather your thoughts. The words felt heavy, lodged in your throat like stones, but you forced them out anyway, each one cutting into the fragile peace that had momentarily settled between you.

“He said if I ever spoke your name…he’d kill you,” you said, your voice cracking on the last word. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your dress as you glanced down at your stomach, your shame and fear twisting into an unbearable knot. “He also said if I didn’t feed the baby…” You swallowed hard, the memory still as sharp and raw as the day Sylus had first uttered the threat. “He’d kill you then, too.”

The confession hung in the air like a dark cloud, oppressive and suffocating. The only sounds were the faint rumble of the car and your own unsteady breathing. Your heart raced as you waited for Xavier to respond, your mind spiraling into a hundred different worst-case scenarios. What if he was angry? Hurt? Or worse, what if he couldn’t look at you the same way after hearing it all?

Xavier didn’t say anything right away, but the tension in his jaw told you he was processing it. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, but his face remained calm. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and measured. “I understand,” he said, his tone careful. He paused, glancing at you again before asking hesitantly, “Are you…are you keeping it?”

The question hit you like a slap, not because it was inappropriate, but because of how much weight it carried. You knew what he meant, but even so, the word “it” stung. Xavier must have realized immediately, because he winced and quickly corrected himself. “Ah, sorry. Not ‘it.’ I don’t know the gender.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his awkwardness, and for the first time in what felt like hours, a small laugh escaped your lips. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there—a fragile spark in the sea of tension.

“The baby is a girl,” you said, your voice softening. “It’s okay.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze shifted back to the road, his jaw tightening again as if bracing himself for whatever came next.

“And…I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “Just a day ago, I was preparing to accept my new life as a mom. I told myself I had to. That I didn’t have a choice.” You paused, taking a shaky breath as your hand moved to your belly, tracing slow circles over the fabric. “And now…now my brain is all over the place. I just want her to be safe. To grow up happy.”

Silence enveloped the car again, heavy and suffocating. You stared out the window, the glow of sun illuminating the streets. Your daughter kicked again, and you pressed your palm against your stomach, trying to reassure her even as your own fears consumed you.

When Xavier didn’t respond, your chest tightened with a fresh wave of anxiety. Was he regretting this already? Was this too much for him? The thought was like a dagger, sharp and cold, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out.

“I understand if this is a lot,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your head slightly, your eyes searching his face for any sign of his thoughts. “If you don’t want me anymore…”

The moment the words left your lips, Xavier’s head snapped toward you, his blue eyes blazing with intensity. His expression was equal parts shock and disbelief, and for a terrifying second, you thought you’d made a mistake.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think that.”

You flinched at the firmness in his tone, but before you could retreat into yourself, his hand left the wheel and reached for yours. His palm was warm, his grip steady as his fingers laced through yours. The gesture was grounding, a lifeline in the sea of doubt.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice softening but losing none of its conviction. “This is a lot. I won’t lie to you about that. But it’s not too much. Not for me.”

Your breath caught as he continued, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Do you really think I’d give up now?” he asked, his voice almost breaking. “After everything? After months of looking for you, of fighting to get to this moment?”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as his words wrapped around your heart like a protective shield. You tried to speak, but the lump in your throat made it impossible. Instead, you nodded, the motion small and uncertain.

“I don’t care about the circumstances,” Xavier said, his voice steady. “You’re still the woman I love. And that little girl you’re carrying?” His gaze flickered briefly to your belly before returning to your face. “She’s part of you. That’s all I need to know.”

The dam inside you broke, and the tears came freely now, your shoulders shaking as the weight of everything you’d been holding finally crashed down. Xavier didn’t flinch, didn’t let go. If anything, his grip on your hand tightened, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over your knuckles.

“You don’t have to figure this all out today,” he said softly. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

His words hit you with the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming and comforting all at once. For the first time in months, the crushing weight on your chest eased just enough for you to take a full breath. You nodded again, your hand squeezing his as you leaned back against the seat.

For now, you didn’t need all the answers. For now, it was enough to know that you weren’t alone.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing you recalled was the rhythmic hum of the car’s engine, a soothing lullaby against the backdrop of a long and emotional day. Now, you woke to the soft crunch of gravel beneath tires, and the faint thud of a door shutting pulled you fully back to consciousness. Blinking groggily, you rubbed your eyes, the world outside the window coming into focus—or not. Darkness enveloped everything, the trees standing like silent sentinels against the faint glow of the moon.

The realization hit you quickly: this wasn’t home. Your heart skipped a beat as unease crept in, sharp and unwelcome. Before you could dwell on it, the passenger door opened, and cool night air rushed in. Xavier leaned into view, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the car’s overhead light. His expression was calm, reassuring, but you couldn’t ignore the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep. Your fingers curled around the seatbelt instinctively, holding you in place.

Xavier offered his hand, waiting patiently for you to take it. “Someplace safe,” he said simply. When you didn’t immediately move, he crouched slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know this is sudden, but I need you to trust me. It’s too dangerous to go back to the apartment right now. He knows where we live.”

The mention of Sylus sent a shiver down your spine. Logic told you Xavier was right, but fear still gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. Hesitantly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and allowed him to help you out of the car. The ground was uneven beneath your feet, the faint crunch of dirt and leaves the only sound as you stood there, blinking into the darkness.

“I thought we’d go back to your place,” you murmured, your voice wavering. Your gaze flickered around nervously, trying to take in your surroundings, but the dense forest offered no clues. “Why…why here?”

Xavier’s hand tightened around yours, his warmth grounding you. “I know it’s a lot,” he admitted, his tone gentle. “But I needed to bring you somewhere Sylus wouldn’t think to look. This cabin—it’s not much, but it’s off the radar. Trust me, it’s safer.”

Despite his reassurances, unease still prickled at the edges of your mind. You weren’t sure if it was the unfamiliar surroundings, the memories of Sylus’s threats, or the sheer exhaustion weighing on your body, but something about the situation left you unsettled. Still, you nodded, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. Xavier wouldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t put you in danger.

“Come on,” he said softly, tugging your hand. “It’s not far.”

The walk to the cabin was short, but every step felt like a battle. Your feet ached fiercely, the swelling from the pregnancy making each movement a painful reminder of your body’s limits. By the time the faint outline of the cabin came into view, a soft grunt of pain escaped your lips, and you winced, trying to mask it. Xavier stopped abruptly, turning to face you.

“You okay?” he asked, his brows knitting together in concern. His gaze dropped to your feet, his expression softening when he noticed your discomfort.

“It’s just a pregnancy thing,” you muttered, embarrassed. “My feet… they’re swollen. And they hurt.”

Xavier frowned, his concern deepening. “We should’ve stopped sooner. I’ll see if I have anything at the cabin to help with that.” His voice carried a mix of determination and regret, as if he felt guilty for not noticing sooner.

You nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness but unable to shake the wave of shame that washed over you. He was doing so much already—too much. This wasn’t his responsibility, no matter how much he claimed to care. As he guided you the last few steps to the cabin, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really meant what he’d said earlier about the baby. Did he truly believe what he’d said, or had it been an attempt to comfort you in the moment?

The cabin was modest, its wooden beams gleaming faintly in the moonlight. When Xavier pushed open the door, the soft golden glow of the interior lights spilled out, revealing a small but cozy space. There was no clutter, no decorations—just a bed, a wood-burning stove, and a small kitchen tucked into one corner. It was practical, not personal, and the emptiness made your chest tighten.

“Sit down,” Xavier said, his tone gentle but firm as he guided you to the bed. “I’ll get some water and find something for your feet.”

You sank into the mattress, relief washing over you as the pressure on your swollen feet eased. As Xavier moved around the cabin, his actions quick and purposeful, you watched him, your emotions a tangled mess of gratitude and guilt. He shouldn’t have to take care of you like this. He had no obligation—not to you, and certainly not to the baby.

When he returned, he knelt in front of you, setting down a bowl of warm water and a clean towel. “It’s not much,” he said, his voice apologetic, “but it should help.”

You stared at the bowl for a moment, your throat tightening. His kindness was overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, the question you’d been holding back tumbled out.

“Do you really mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Xavier paused, his hands stilling over the bowl. He looked up at you, his blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Mean what?” he asked softly, his tone careful.

“What you said earlier. About the baby,” you clarified, your voice trembling. “That it doesn’t matter to you…that she’s part of me, and that’s all you need.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, taking your hand in his. “I meant it,” he said, his voice steady. “That doesn’t mean this isn’t a lot to take in. It is. And I won’t pretend otherwise.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “But none of that changes how I feel about you. Or how much I want to be here for you—whatever you decide.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his words sank in, wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “Whatever I decide?” you echoed, your voice breaking.

Xavier nodded, his thumb brushing gentle circles over your knuckles. “If you want to keep her, I’ll be here for you both. If you decide adoption is the right choice, I’ll support you. This is your decision. Your future. But whatever you choose, I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears came freely again as the weight of his words settled over you. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. If anything, his grip on your hand tightened, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could. He truly was the man you loved and continued to be despite everything.

Your stomach rumbled loudly, the sound startling in the quiet cabin. It was as if your body had finally caught up with everything else, demanding attention you didn’t feel ready to give. You let out a nervous laugh, instinctively placing a hand over your belly as another tiny kick pressed against your palm. Your daughter was restless, rolling and kicking as if in protest.

“I guess we’re both starving,” you said softly, your voice carrying an edge of self-consciousness.

Xavier glanced towards the small kitchen area, his face softening. “There’s some canned food in the cupboard,” he said, already moving and pulling open one of the creaky wooden doors. “I’ll cook something for you. It won’t be fancy, but it’ll do.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, though the words felt small in comparison to what he was doing for you. As you watched him move around the kitchen, his slightly broad shoulders slightly hunched in concentration, guilt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. He was doing so much for you—for both of you. And yet, no matter how much he reassured you, that persistent question lingered: how long could this last? How long until it became too much for him?

You shifted on the bed, your hand still resting on your belly as your daughter continued her acrobatics. Your thoughts spiraled, each one more overwhelming than the last. What were you going to do? The question haunted you, clawing at the edges of your mind. Once Sylus was no longer a threat, you’d still have to make a decision about the baby.

Would it be better to give her up? The thought made your chest tighten painfully, but it felt like the only logical choice. If you kept her, Sylus would find her. He always found a way. But giving her up didn’t guarantee safety either. What if she ended up closer to his reach, easier for him to manipulate and control? Your head swam with possibilities, each one more suffocating than the last. You closed your eyes, willing the torrent of thoughts to stop, but it was like trying to hold back a flood.

“Xavier…” you began hesitantly, your voice barely audible over the faint sizzle of something on the stove. He turned slightly, his head tilting to show he was listening, but his hands didn’t stop moving as he stirred a pot. “Shouldn’t we go to Captain Jenna? The police? I mean…I’m technically still missing, aren’t I?”

Xavier stilled for a moment, the rhythm of his stirring coming to an abrupt halt. The tension in his shoulders was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach churn with unease. Slowly, he resumed stirring, his back still to you. “You’re not legally missing,” he said finally, his voice careful. “Sylus made sure of that.”

Your breath hitched, your heart sinking. “What do you mean?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the answer.

Xavier turned down the heat on the stove, his movements deliberate as he picked up a plate and began serving the food. “He made me spin a story,” Xavier explained, his tone clipped. “According to me, you announced that you were leaving the country. Made it seem like a planned move.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, leaving you momentarily breathless. Of course Sylus had thought of everything. He always did. Every possible angle, every potential loose end—he’d tied them all up neatly in a web of lies. “What?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But…that doesn’t mean we can’t tell someone what really happened, right?”

Xavier didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he poured the steaming vegetables from the pot onto the plate, the vibrant mix of greens, oranges, and yellows standing out against the plain white dish. He carried it over to the small coffee table in front of you, setting it down gently. The aroma of cooked pork and seasoned vegetables filled the air, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on him, searching for some kind of reassurance.

“It’s best not to get anyone else involved,” he said finally, sitting down across from you. His voice was measured, careful, but there was an underlying tension that made your stomach twist. “Sylus is dangerous. The people you’re thinking of going to—Captain Jenna, the police—they can’t protect you from someone like him.”

“But—” you began, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Besides,” he cut in gently but firmly, his gaze meeting yours, “you’re pregnant. If we try to explain this now, all it’s going to look like is you ran off for a fling. That’s how Sylus has framed it, and it’s the story people will believe.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. You wanted to argue, to shout that it wasn’t fair, but the truth of what he was saying kept your protests lodged in your throat. Sylus’s lies were insidious, and the world was all too quick to believe the worst about people. Even if you tried to explain, who would believe you?

Xavier leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched you. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” he said softly. “And I know it’s not fair. But the most important thing right now is keeping you and the baby safe. That’s all that matters. Once I can secure a better place for you, I'll move you both out from this cabin.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I keep thinking about the baby… about what’s best for her. I don’t even know if keeping her is the right choice. But giving her up…what if that puts her in even more danger?”

Xavier’s gaze softened, and he reached out, his hand covering yours. His touch was warm, grounding, but it didn’t erase the storm raging inside you. “I don’t have all the answers,” he said honestly. “This is your decision. And it’s not an easy one. But whatever you choose—whether you keep her or give her up—I’ll be here to help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“How can you say that?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “She’s not even yours.”

Xavier didn’t flinch. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over your knuckles. “I know,” he said simply, his voice steady. “But regardless, I love you. If you keep her, I want to be involved with everything to do with you."

The sincerity in his voice left you breathless, your chest aching with a mixture of gratitude and overwhelming emotion. The enormity of everything still loomed over you, but Xavier’s words felt like a lifeline, anchoring you to something solid amidst the chaos.

You nodded slowly, wiping at your eyes as you reached for the fork. The first bite of food was warm and comforting, easing some of the tension in your chest. It was nothing compared to the lavish meals Sylus would feed you, but for the first time in a long time the food was truly delicious. Xavier watched you silently, his presence steady and unyielding. The crushing weight of fear and uncertainty seemed to lift—if only just enough to breathe.

Tomorrow would bring more questions, more decisions. But for tonight, Xavier’s quiet support was enough to keep the darkness at bay.

The hours stretched on, the crackle of the wood-burning stove providing a soothing backdrop as you and Xavier talked. At first, it was about the kidnapping, the things you had endured, and the horrifying grip Sylus had over your life. Xavier was angered to learn Sylus had physically cut out your birth control himself. And you were saddened to learn you no longer had an apartment. But as the tension began to ease, the conversation shifted. Xavier told you about what he’d gone through to find you, the lengths he’d gone to prepare for what felt like an impossible rescue. Every word felt surreal.

“So… you’re part Polar Wyrm now?” you asked, your tone incredulous.

Xavier nodded, leaning back a bit, his broad shoulders catching the warm glow of the stove’s firelight. His lips quirked into a half-smile, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah. It’s…complicated. I didn’t have a choice, not if I wanted to be strong enough to face him again. I thought—” He paused, his blue eyes flickering with something unspoken. “I thought it would give me a better chance to bring you back.”

You stared at him, trying to process the enormity of what he had done. Polar Wyrms were no ordinary Wanderers—powerful, ancient, and dangerous. To think Xavier had willingly taken on that kind of burden for you made your chest ache with a mix of gratitude and guilt.

“I didn’t ask you to do that…” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

His eyes softened as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t have to,” he said quietly. “I would’ve done anything to find you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “I’m sorry,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The words tumbled out of you in a rush, fueled by the weight of everything you’d been carrying. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger—”

“Stop.” His voice was gentle but firm, cutting through your apologies. He reached out and placed a hand over yours, his touch warm and grounding. “You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this was your fault.”

You nodded hesitantly, though the guilt still lingered, a heavy presence in your chest. It wasn’t something that would go away overnight.

Eventually, the conversation turned lighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, you caught glimpses of the man you missed and dreamed of, the one who could make you laugh, who made the world feel less daunting. When he brought up baby names, it caught you off guard.

“I always thought that if I had a daughter, I’d name her Evia,” he said, his voice thoughtful. He leaned back, his gaze distant as if imagining the life he once thought he might have. “It means ‘life’ or ‘to live’ in Hebrew.”

You were lying on the bed by then, exhaustion tugging at your body despite the lively energy of your daughter, who seemed intent on keeping you awake with her constant movements. Your fingers traced idle patterns over your belly as you considered the name.

“Evia,” you repeated, the sound delicate and full of promise. “It’s such a pretty name.”

The idea stirred something inside you—a flicker of hope, fragile but persistent. Could this be a fresh start? If you named her something Xavier had chosen instead of something Sylus would have controlled, it might mark the beginning of a new chapter. A life where you weren’t constantly looking over your shoulder, where your daughter could grow up without fear.

Xavier must have sensed the shift in your mood because he gave you a small smile, the kind that lit up his face and reminded you of how much you had missed him. “Of course, if you wanted something different, it’s your choice,” he added quickly, his tone light but sincere.

Your heart fluttered at his words, at the way he seemed to effortlessly put you first, even now. How you’d missed that smile. His voice. His eyes. This wasn’t just love—it was something deeper. Something that had endured pain, separation, and fear, only to emerge stronger.

“Xavier…” you whispered, his name barely more than a breath as it passed your lips. It felt strange to say it now, after all this time, after everything that had happened. Yet it grounded you, tethering you to the moment as you turned toward him on the bed.

He was kneeling beside you, his arms resting on the edge of the mattress. The warm light of the fire danced across his face, casting shadows that made his features seem sharper, more defined. But his eyes…they were soft, steady, filled with something that made your chest tighten and your pulse quicken.

He tilted his head slightly, a quiet hum of acknowledgment escaping his throat. His blue eyes flickered down to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat, before lifting back to meet your gaze. The unspoken question in his expression sent a shiver through you.

Your heart pounded, the sound of it filling your ears as if it were echoing in the quiet cabin. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin, subtle but enough to make you hyperaware of just how close he was. You could see the faint line of eyebags on his face, the way his lips parted slightly as though he wanted to speak but didn’t.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you felt electric, charged with an intensity that made the air in the room seem heavier. Your stomach fluttered—not with the restless movements of your daughter, but with something else. Something thrilling and terrifying all at once.

Slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned forward. The fabric of the bed shifted beneath you, and your hand pressed against the mattress for balance as you closed the distance between you. Xavier mirrored your movement, his posture rigid at first but softening as he leaned closer. His eyes never left yours, flickering with emotions you couldn’t quite name but felt in your core.

You could feel the heat radiating from him now, could see the way his chest rose and fell with slightly uneven breaths. The faint scent of him—something clean, with a hint of the woods—filled your senses, making your head spin. Your lips were so close you could almost feel them brush against his, the space between you impossibly narrow.

His hand moved, hesitating for a moment before coming to rest lightly against your jaw. His touch was warm, his thumb barely grazing your skin as though he were afraid you might pull away. The gentle pressure made your breath catch, your eyes fluttering shut as the anticipation built to a dizzying crescendo.

And then the doubt crept in.

Your eyes snapped open, and you pulled back slightly, your chest tightening with the weight of your insecurities. How could you let yourself get lost in this moment when everything about you had changed? You were pregnant. Your body wasn’t the same, marked and reshaped by the life growing inside you and the things you had been through. How could he still want you like this?

“Never mind,” you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You started to lean back, but Xavier’s hand moved quickly, capturing your wrist with a firm yet gentle grip.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. His thumb brushed over the delicate skin of your wrist as he held you in place, his touch both grounding and electrifying.

His free hand lifted to your cheek, tilting your face back toward him. The way he looked at you made your heart skip—an unguarded, almost raw expression of longing and determination. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The words trembled with vulnerability, as though he wasn’t certain you’d say yes.

Your lips parted in surprise, your pulse racing as you searched his face for any hint of doubt. There was none. His eyes were locked on yours, unwavering, filled with a quiet intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“You still...want to do that?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Even if I’m like this?”

His brows furrowed slightly, as though he couldn’t understand why you would even question it. “Always,” he said simply, his voice steady and sure.

The sincerity in his tone sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you. Your chest ached, your breath hitching as you realized just how much you had missed him—his touch, his presence, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

Slowly, you leaned in again, your movements tentative at first but growing bolder as you closed the distance between you. Xavier met you halfway, his hand still cradling your face as his thumb traced a slow, soothing circle against your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered shut again, and you tilted your head slightly, your lips just a breath away from his. You could feel the faintest brush of his mouth against yours, featherlight and tantalizing, and your heart leapt in anticipation.

And then, a sharp, piercing “CAW!” shattered the moment.

Your eyes flew open, your head snapping toward the window. Outside, silhouetted against the moonlight, was the unmistakable shape of a crow. Its black feathers gleamed in the dim light, and it perched on a gnarled branch just outside the cabin.

“No…” you breathed, the sound barely audible as a chill ran down your spine. The crow let out another sharp cry, its beady eyes fixed on the cabin, unblinking.

“Mephisto...” you said, the name tumbling from your lips in disbelief as you sat up abruptly, your heart racing.

Xavier frowned, his hand still on your wrist as he followed your gaze to the window. “Who’s Mephisto?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.

Your mind raced, a storm of thoughts and memories flooding in all at once. Mephisto wasn’t just a crow. He was Sylus’s crow. A creature bound to him in ways you still couldn’t fully understand, serving as his eyes, his ears, his shadow.

If Mephisto was here, it could only mean one thing.

“We have to go,” you said urgently, your voice trembling. “Now.”

Xavier didn’t question you. His expression hardened, his movements quick and efficient as he rose to his feet and grabbed the car keys. The easy, tender atmosphere of moments ago was gone, replaced by a tension so thick it was suffocating. You couldn't go back. You had just gotten a small taste of true freedom again and he was coming to rip it all away.

As you scrambled to your feet, your hand instinctively went to your belly, your daughter’s frantic movements mirroring the fear coursing through you. You cast one last glance at the window, but the branch was empty now.

Mephisto was gone.

The urgency was palpable as you and Xavier bolted toward the car, your heart hammering against your ribs. The cabin, once a sanctuary, now felt like a trap. Every sound—the snap of a twig, the rustling of leaves—set your nerves on edge, each one magnified by the oppressive darkness surrounding you.

“Come on,” Xavier urged, his voice low but firm as his hand closed around yours, pulling you along the uneven path.

Your swollen belly made it hard to keep up, each step sending a jolt of discomfort through your body. The terrain seemed to conspire against you—rocks and roots threatened to trip you, the soft soil beneath your feet feeling like it was pulling you down. Your breaths came in shallow pants, and your free hand pressed against your abdomen as though to steady the restless movements of your daughter within.

“I…I can’t run like this,” you panted, your voice shaky with fear and exertion.

Xavier slowed immediately, his grip on your hand tightening as he wrapped his other arm around your back to steady you. “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice softening despite the tension etched across his face. He guided you forward, his movements careful yet urgent. “We’re almost there.”

The car came into view, its dark shape barely discernible against the shadows of the forest. Relief surged through you, momentarily easing the tightness in your chest. The two of you reached the vehicle, and Xavier opened the passenger door in one swift motion, helping you inside.

“Lock it,” he said firmly, his blue eyes meeting yours through the glass before he hurried to the driver’s side.

With shaky hands, you reached for the lock, the click of it sliding into place offering a fleeting sense of security. The cabin lights dimmed as Xavier climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. The engine roared to life, and for a moment, your pounding heart began to slow.

But the moment shattered as the car lurched forward an inch before stopping abruptly, the tires spinning uselessly against the ground. The engine growled in protest, but the vehicle refused to budge.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice trembling as dread crept back in.

Xavier’s brow furrowed as he shifted the car into park and back to drive, trying again. The tires spun helplessly, the grinding sound sending a chill down your spine. He muttered a curse under his breath, slamming the gearshift back into park as the car remained stationary.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice tense. “Stay here. I’m going to check it out.”

Panic surged through you as he stepped out of the car, the chill of the night air rushing in before he shut the door. You watched as he crouched near the front tire, his movements quick and precise. Every second felt like an eternity as you sat there, clutching your belly protectively, your daughter’s frantic movements adding to your unease.

When Xavier finally returned, the grim set of his jaw sent a fresh wave of fear through you. He climbed back into the driver’s seat and closed the door firmly, exhaling through his nose as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Don’t panic,” he began, though his tone did little to reassure you. He turned to you, his blue eyes steady but shadowed with tension. “The tires are all slashed.”

The blood drained from your face. Your stomach churned as the implications sank in. You didn’t need to ask who had done it; the answer came to you instantly, chilling and absolute. “It was them,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “The twins.”

Xavier’s jaw tightened at your words, his eyes narrowing. “The twins?” he repeated, his voice sharp with concern. “Who are they?”

“Sylus’s henchmen,” you explained quickly, your words tumbling out in a rush. “They’re basically his…his shadows. If Mephisto was here, then they can’t be far behind. They always work together.”

Xavier’s lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze flickered toward the dark forest outside. The air in the car felt suffocating now, thick with the weight of unspoken fears. “So they were watching us this whole time,” he said grimly, his tone more a statement than a question.

You nodded, your hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the seat. “They had to have been. They’re not just criminals—they’re smart. Calculated. If they wanted us stuck here, then—”

“Then this was planned,” Xavier finished, his expression hardening. He rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers briefly tugging at his hair before dropping to his lap. “Damn it.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the reality of the situation pressing down on you. The car was useless now, and the forest outside felt more menacing than ever. Every shadow seemed to shift, every sound amplified as though the trees themselves were conspiring to hide your pursuers.

“What do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The fear in your chest felt suffocating, your breaths shallow and uneven.

Xavier’s gaze snapped back to you, his expression softening slightly. “We’ll figure something out,” he said firmly. “But first, we need to stay calm.”

The sound of a branch snapping in the distance made you flinch, your heart leaping into your throat. Xavier’s head snapped toward the noise, his body tensing as his hand instinctively went to the knife strapped to his belt.

“They’re out there,” you said, your voice trembling. “Aren’t they?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the darkness outside the window. His posture was rigid, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. “Maybe,” he admitted finally, his voice low. “But if they wanted to come in guns blazing, they would’ve done it already. They’re waiting.”

“For what?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

Xavier shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “For us to panic. To make a mistake.” His hand moved to yours, covering it with a gentle but firm grip. “Listen to me. I won’t let them take you and the baby. Do you understand?”

You nodded, though the fear in your chest didn’t subside. Your mind raced, every scenario more terrifying than the last. The car was no longer an option, and the cabin behind you suddenly felt like the least safe place in the world.

Another sound echoed through the forest—a low, distant rustling that sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through you. Xavier’s hand tightened around yours as his gaze snapped back to the window.

“We need to move,” he said, his voice firm. “But not yet. We’ll wait until the timing is right. They’re trying to force us into running blindly. We won’t give them that.”

The seconds stretched into minutes as the two of you sat there, waiting, the oppressive silence broken only by the sound of your unsteady breathing and the faint rustle of leaves outside. Your daughter stirred again, her movements frantic, as if she could sense the danger surrounding you.

You pressed a hand to your belly, whispering a silent promise to her: you would find a way out of this. That neither of you would have to go back.

The forest was quiet, the kind of quiet that thrummed with anticipation. Sylus stood at the edge of the clearing, his sharp eyes fixed on the distant glow of the cabin windows. The cool night air brushed against his face, but it did little to soothe the fire raging beneath his calm exterior. His hands, gloved in soft leather, clenched and relaxed rhythmically as he waited.

Mephisto broke the silence, swooping down from the shadows above and landing neatly on Sylus’s shoulder. The crow’s claws dug lightly into the leather, but Sylus didn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curled into a faint smirk as his mind reached out to the familiar connection, letting the images Mephisto had captured flood his vision.

What he saw made the smirk vanish instantly, replaced by a cold, volatile fury.

There you were—his woman, his fiancé—lying on a bed, your face lit with an expression of vulnerability and longing that twisted something deep in his chest. And then there was Xavier, that thorn in his side, that meddling pest, kneeling beside you. Xavier leaned in close, his face hovering near yours, your breaths mingling in a way that made Sylus’s blood boil.

The calm he had maintained so carefully shattered, his pulse pounding in his ears as the next images unfolded. Xavier’s hand brushed against your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours with a tenderness that made Sylus want to rip him apart. Then, you leaned in, your lips parting slightly as if to meet Xavier halfway.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sylus as he clenched his jaw tightly. How dare he? How dare that pathetic little knight touch you, try to kiss you, as if you weren't already marked by another man’s seed? His seed. You carried his child and yet Xavier had the audacity to act as though he still had any claim to you? The very thought made Sylus’s hands curl into fists, his nails digging into his palms beneath the leather gloves.

The next moments in Mephisto’s broadcast showed the two of you scrambling to your feet, startled by the crow’s sudden cry. Your panic was clear, your hand instinctively going to your belly. Sylus’s chest tightened at the sight, a twisted mixture of anger and possessiveness flooding his veins. Even in your fear, you looked radiant. Fragile, yes, but his.

A voice crackled in his ear, snapping him back to the present. “Boss,” came the low, gravelly voice of Luke, one of the twins. “Tires have been slashed already. They’re sitting in the car, looking pretty spooked. Let us know when you want us to move in.”

Sylus closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a slow exhale. He rolled his shoulders, his jaw tightening as he composed himself. When he opened his eyes again, they were steely, his expression hard yet laced with a faint, unsettling smirk.

“Don’t do anything rash before I get there,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “He’s mine for the kill.”

Luke’s voice came back immediately. “Understood.”

Sylus allowed himself a moment to flip a coin absentmindedly, his mind racing with plans. Every fiber of his being demanded action, demanded that he tear Xavier limb from limb for daring to touch what was his. But he wasn’t a man who acted without precision. No, Xavier would pay, but it would be on Sylus’s terms. And you…you would see that no one could love you the way he did. No one could protect you, provide for you, the way he could.

His gaze flicked toward the cabin again, his expression softening just slightly as he thought of you. You had been his obsession, his guiding star, for far too long. The thought of you with another man—especially one as undeserving as Xavier—was unbearable. It made his blood seethe, his mind cloud with thoughts of retribution. But beneath it all, his love for you burned brighter than his anger.

“She’ll understand,” he murmured to himself, his voice low and reverent. “Once that pest is gone, she’ll see it was always meant to be me.”

Mephisto cawed softly, tilting his head as if to mirror Sylus’s thoughts.

“Let’s move,” he murmured, his voice low and sharp, carrying the weight of his resolve. His fingers brushed over Mephisto’s feathers as his lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. “It’s time to bring her back where she belongs.”

With one last glance toward the cabin, Sylus turned and disappeared into the shadows. His movements were precise, deliberate, like a predator closing in on its quarry. Tonight, he would end this charade. Xavier’s interference would be silenced for good, and you would finally see—you had always been his.

Sylus materialized in the clearing with a flash of red mist, the energy dissipating into the night as quickly as it had appeared. He stood among the trees, his presence shrouded in shadow, but his vantage point offered a clear view of the car and the unfolding scene. The twins had closed in, their movements deliberate, like wolves circling prey. Xavier, bold as ever, had stepped out of the car, his posture taut with readiness.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. Bold choice, Xavier. He leaned casually against a tree, his arms folded as he watched, curiosity piqued. This could prove entertaining.

“Long time no see, my old friend!” Kieran called out, his voice carrying a mockery that grated against the stillness of the night. He stepped closer, his confident strides deliberate, rife with mischief.

Xavier’s entire body went rigid, his arm snapping out as if on instinct. In a flash of shimmering light, a massive blue sword appeared in his hands, its surface glowing with a brilliance that contrasted sharply against the night. He held it out in front of him, its weight steady in his grip, the tip pointed menacingly at Kieran.

Sylus tilted his head, his smirk widening. So, Dr. Merill wasn’t kidding. The bastard really is working with EVER. His eyes flicked to the weapon in Xavier’s hands, taking in its construction and energy signature. Impressive. But not enough. He chuckled quietly to himself, staying hidden among the shadows.

“Get back if you know what’s good for you,” Xavier warned, his voice low and edged with fury. His glare was sharp enough to cut, but Kieran seemed unfazed.

“Woah, woah, calm down,” Luke interjected, his hands raised in mock surrender as he approached from the other side. “We’re not here for you. Just picking up what belongs to the boss.”

Luke gestured lazily toward the car, his grin widening. “If you just let her go, we’ll all get out of here unscathed. Well,” he added with a shrug, “she will either way. But you know what I mean.”

The tension snapped like a coiled spring as Xavier lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Luke narrowly dodged the strike, his reflexes sharp, but not sharp enough to escape unscathed. A thin piece of his hood fluttered to the ground, the fabric severed by the glowing blade. Luke glanced at it, then laughed, the sound rough and full of derision.

“Woah, you actually managed a hit this time!” he said, his demeanor twisting into something darker. “Time to get serious then, eh?”

The fight erupted in a blur of motion.

Xavier pressed the attack, his blade a streak of blue light as it arced through the air. Luke countered, twisting and dodging with practiced ease, his movements fluid as water. Kieran joined the fray, his twin daggers gleaming wickedly as he darted in and out, testing Xavier’s defenses. The two moved in perfect synchronization, their coordination seamless, but Xavier held his ground, his blade a glowing barrier that kept them at bay.

Sylus watched with mild interest, his gaze shifting between the clashing figures. Every strike, every dodge, was a calculated move, and yet…his focus drifted.

His eyes found you in the passenger seat of the car, your face fear stricken and drawn, your hands trembling as they clutched your belly. Even from this distance, he could see the anxiety etched into your features, the way your shoulders shook with barely contained sobs. His chest tightened, a pang of something tender cutting through his fury. Poor thing. Terrified. This isn’t good for your heart-or the baby’s.

How he longed to end this now, to sweep you into his arms and whisk you far away from all of this chaos. To hold you, to remind you that you were his, that you were safe as long as you were in his arms. But it wasn’t the time. Not yet.

A flash of blue light snapped his attention back to the fight. Xavier had unleashed a wave of energy from his blade, the force slamming into the ground and sending a shockwave through the clearing. The twins scattered, their footing faltering for a moment before they regained their composure.

Kieran darted back in, his daggers flashing as he aimed for Xavier’s flank. Xavier pivoted, his sword meeting the strike with a deafening clash of steel. Luke moved in from the other side, his strikes precise and unrelenting. The three danced a deadly rhythm, the clash of their weapons ringing through the night.

And then it happened.

Xavier unleashed another wave of blue energy, this one larger, more unstable. The force of it shattered the window on the passenger side of the car, sending shards of glass raining down. Your scream pierced the air, high and raw, the sound cutting through the chaos like a knife.

Sylus’s composure shattered.

His eyes locked onto the broken window, his breath catching as he saw you huddled inside, your arms wrapped protectively around your belly. Fear radiated from you, palpable even at a distance. The sight made his blood run hot, his fury igniting into something all-consuming.

“Enough,” he growled, the word barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

In a blur of his Evol, Sylus stepped forward, emerging from the shadows with deadly intent. The twins faltered for a moment, sensing his presence before they saw him. Xavier froze, his glowing blade still raised, as Sylus appeared at the edge of the clearing.

“This ends now,” Sylus said, his voice low and sharp, each word dripping with authority. His eyes burned with a mix of fury and possession as they fixed on Xavier. “Step away from her, or I’ll make you regret ever coming near what’s mine.”

The clearing fell into an uneasy silence, the tension crackling like a storm ready to break.

Sylus had entered the fray, and there would be no escape.

"Ah, look, the man of the hour," Xavier said through clenched teeth, his voice laced with venom. But his gaze wasn’t on Sylus. It wasn’t on the twins, who had stepped back to watch the show unfold. No, his focus was entirely on you, huddled in the passenger seat of the car, your body shaking as sobs wracked through you.

Sylus followed his line of sight, his own jaw tightening as he took in the scene. You were crying—crying because of him, because of this idiot who had dragged you into a situation you were never meant to endure. His vision blurred with rage, and his hand clenched at his side, crimson energy crackling around his fingers. How dare he look at you. How dare he make you cry.

Your tears belonged to him and him only.

“Eyes on me, Xavier,” Sylus growled, his voice low and cold. Without waiting for a response, he sent a sharp burst of red energy hurtling toward him.

Xavier moved quickly, throwing himself to the side just as the energy blasted through the space where he had been standing. The ground shook from the impact, a cloud of dirt and debris rising into the air, but Xavier recovered almost immediately, his glowing sword at the ready.

“You missed,” Xavier taunted, though the strain in his voice betrayed his nerves.

Sylus smirked darkly. “Never twice.”

The second wave of crimson energy struck true, slamming into Xavier’s chest and sending him hurtling backward. He crashed into a tree with a sickening thud, the bark splintering under the force. The impact was enough to send a gasp of pain from Xavier, but to Sylus’s annoyance, the man was already on his feet again, the blue glow of his sword flaring brighter.

“Persistent as ever,” Sylus muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "Should I break the rest of the bones in your body?"

Xavier didn’t waste words. With a determined cry, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Sylus sidestepped effortlessly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re still not enough,” Sylus said, his voice calm, almost bored. He ducked beneath another swing, his movements fluid and precise, like a predator toying with its prey. “Not for me. And certainly not for her.”

The jab hit its mark. Xavier’s face twisted with anger, and he pressed the attack, his strikes coming faster, harder, each one designed to break through Sylus’s seemingly impenetrable defenses. But Sylus was faster. He weaved through the onslaught with practiced ease, his body moving with an unnatural grace that made it seem as though he were barely trying.

“You really thought this would end differently?” Sylus sneered, blocking a particularly aggressive strike with a burst of red energy that sent Xavier staggering back. “After everything you’ve seen, everything you know about me, you still thought you could win?”

“I don’t need to win,” Xavier spat, his chest heaving as he steadied his grip on the sword. “I just need to buy enough time to get her away from you.”

Sylus’s smirk vanished, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Get her away from me?” His voice was low, deadly quiet. “You mean my woman. The mother of my child.” He advanced on Xavier, his crimson energy pulsing with every step. “You think you have any claim to her? That you can just erase the mark I’ve left on her body, her soul?”

Xavier lunged again, this time aiming for Sylus’s side, but Sylus deflected the blow effortlessly, the clash of energy and steel ringing out like thunder. Their fight became a blur of movement—Xavier’s sword glowing brilliantly as it carved through the night air, Sylus’s crimson bursts lighting up the clearing like flashes of lightning.

“You’ve always been a pest, Xavier,” Sylus taunted as he dodged another strike, his tone dripping with mockery. “An irritating, self-righteous thorn in my side. But now?” He parried with a burst of red energy that sent Xavier skidding backward. “Now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“Better than being a monster,” Xavier shot back, his voice filled with defiance. “She deserves better than you.”

Sylus laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Better than me? Let me make one thing clear—there is no better than me. You’re a cheap imitation of a savior, playing hero while I’ve given her everything. Protection. Security. A future.” His eyes gleamed with malice. “And let’s not forget who put that life inside of her.”

The words struck a nerve. Xavier roared in fury, his blade flaring brighter than ever as he charged forward. Sylus met him head-on, their energies colliding in a dazzling explosion of red and blue energy. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the clearing, the ground trembling beneath their feet.

The fight reached a fever pitch, each strike more desperate, more vicious than the last. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, their bodies moving on instinct as they sought the final blow. Sylus’s crimson energy swirled around him like a storm, each burst pushing Xavier closer to his limit. But Xavier held his ground, his sword a beacon of determination as it clashed against Sylus’s unrelenting power.

And then, just as they both prepared to strike again, a scream tore through the night.

“Stop! Stop! I love him!”

The sound froze them both in place. Xavier’s sword wavered, the light flickering as his gaze snapped toward the car. Sylus’s red energy dimmed, his breath catching as he turned to face you.

You were standing outside the car now, your body trembling as tears streamed down your face. Your hands were pressed protectively against your belly, your voice cracking with desperation as you continued, “I love him. Please, stop this.”

The clearing fell silent, save for the sound of your sobs. Sylus’s chest tightened as he stared at you, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, confusion, jealousy—all of it warred with the ache in his chest at the sight of you so distraught.

“She doesn’t mean you,” Xavier said, his voice quiet but filled with a quiet certainty. His sword lowered slightly, but the fire in his eyes remained.

"Please," you sobbed, your voice breaking with raw emotion. "I love him."

Your tear-stricken face was illuminated by the faint glow of the shattered car window, your trembling figure standing between the two men like a fragile barrier. Sylus’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second as he looked at you, his crimson energy dimming completely. For a moment, he seemed to falter, his lips parting as if to speak.

But before he could say a word, you closed the distance between you, your movements shaky yet determined. Your hands rose, cupping his face as your lips pressed against his in a desperate, trembling kiss.

Sylus froze, his entire body stiffening in shock. His hands hovered uncertainly at your sides, his breath catching at the unexpected intimacy. The warmth of your touch, the softness of your lips, overwhelmed him, sending a jolt of emotion coursing through him. Slowly, he began to relax, his arms coming around you tentatively at first, then tightening as if he were afraid to let go.

The world seemed to vanish around you both, the tension of the fight dissolving into nothingness. For a fleeting moment, there was no Xavier, no fight, no fear—just the two of you. Sylus’s eyes fluttered shut, his grip on you firm but reverent, as if he were holding something he had thought lost forever.

When you finally pulled away, your hands lingering against his jaw, Sylus’s eyes opened slowly, searching yours for meaning. His breaths were uneven, his usually sharp features softened by something unguarded, something vulnerable.

But as his gaze shifted, it landed on Xavier.

Xavier stood frozen, his glowing sword lowered but not extinguished, his expression a mask of disbelief. His eyes darted between you and Sylus, the realization of what he had just witnessed spreading across his face like a storm cloud.

Sylus’s lips curved into the faintest smirk, his arms still encircling you as if to stake his claim. But behind the smug satisfaction in his expression was something deeper—a glint of triumph, yes, but also tenderness as his attention returned to you.

For Sylus, this moment was victory enough.

He was going to kill him.

You could see it in Sylus’s relentless movements, the sharp precision of his strikes. Every motion was calculated, each blow aimed to end the fight with finality. You had seen Sylus survive the unimaginable—a gunshot to the heart, wounds that would leave any other man lifeless. He wasn’t just strong; he was unstoppable. And Xavier, despite his determination, was still part human. Mortal. The inevitable loomed before you like a shadow, suffocating and cold.

As you watched them clash, glass crunching beneath their feet and bursts of light illuminating the clearing, you could feel your world spiraling out of control. The thought of Xavier bleeding out, his lifeless body crumpled on the ground while you stood by and did nothing, was unbearable. Your daughter kicked violently within you, as though mirroring the chaos outside. One hand clutched your stomach, trying to soothe her, while the other shook at your side. You had to stop this.

Luke’s voice startled you as he opened the car door. “Miss,” he said, his tone calm and measured, “it’s better if we take you over there. It’s safer.”

His hand reached for your shoulder, firm but not rough, intending to guide you away. The thought of leaving the fight—leaving Xavier—ignited something desperate within you. Without thinking, you jerked away from Luke’s grip, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Miss—hey!” Luke called after you as you stumbled out of the car, but you didn’t stop. Your feet carried you forward, your chest heaving as you approached the fight. The chaos of the battle was deafening—the clash of Sylus’s crimson energy colliding with the brilliant blue glow of Xavier’s sword. The two men were locked in a brutal dance, their movements fast and unrelenting, and you knew there was only one way to stop it.

You drew a deep breath, your voice breaking as you screamed, “Stop! Stop! I love him!”

The words seemed to pierce through the clamor, freezing both men mid-strike. Sylus’s crimson Evol dimmed as he turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, while Xavier’s glowing sword lowered slightly, his face contorting with confusion.

Tears streaked down your cheeks as you stumbled closer. “Stop… please don’t hurt him,” you sobbed, your voice cracking. “I love him.”

Their reactions couldn’t have been more different. Sylus’s crimson eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing as though trying to process your words. Xavier, on the other hand, stood frozen, his sword wavering in his hand, the light dimming as his disbelief deepened.

Before Sylus could respond, you closed the distance between you and him, your legs trembling beneath you as you took each step. The weight of what you were about to do crushed you, but there was no other choice. You couldn’t let Xavier die.

You reached up, your hands shaking as you cupped Sylus’s face, and pressed your lips against his.

Sylus froze beneath your touch, his body stiffening in shock. His Evol flickered, dimming entirely as the kiss lingered. Then, slowly, he began to move, his hands coming up to your waist as he leaned into the kiss. His embrace was firm, possessive, pulling you closer as though to confirm what he couldn’t quite believe.

Your stomach churned, your heart splintering into pieces as you allowed it to happen. You didn’t mean it—not any of it—but this was the price you had to pay to keep Xavier alive.

When you finally pulled away, your breath came in ragged gasps, tears streaming down your face. Sylus’s crimson eyes searched yours, his features softening as though he had found something he had been searching for all along. You couldn’t look at him for long. Slowly, reluctantly, you turned toward Xavier.

The sight that met you shattered what was left of your heart.

Xavier stood a few feet away, his sword now lowered completely, the glowing blade extinguished. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breaths uneven as he stared at you. His eyes, usually so strong and full of fire, were wide with disbelief and hurt. A tear slipped down his cheek, catching the faint light, and his lip trembled as he tried—and failed—to speak.

“You’re lying,” he said finally, his voice a strained whisper. His body leaned forward slightly, as though he were about to take a step, but he stopped himself, his fists clenching at his sides. His eyes pleaded with you, searching your face for some sign that this wasn’t real.

You wanted to run to him, to throw your arms around him and tell him the truth. To tell him that it wasn’t real, that it was a lie, that you loved him and only him. But you couldn’t. This was the only way to save him.

“I do,” you said, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. “I do mean it. I love Sylus, Xavier. Please, let’s all just stop this now.”

Xavier flinched as though you’d struck him, his entire body trembling. His lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed like he might argue, might demand the truth. But then you continued, your voice trembling as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’ll go back with you,” you said, turning to Sylus, your tone pleading. “Just don’t kill him. Please. I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”

Sylus’s expression softened instantly, the edges of his fury melting away as he reached up to brush your tears from your cheeks. “You don’t have to cry, honey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “I won’t.”

He wrapped his arms around you, his hold firm but comforting. His warmth surrounded you, and you felt yourself crumbling inside. You hated his touch, hated the way your body betrayed you by finding even the smallest sense of safety in his embrace. You hated that this was what you had to do to protect Xavier.

Behind you, a broken voice called your name.

You turned, your heart lurching at the sound, and what you saw next almost brought you to your knees.

Xavier’s face was streaked with tears now, his strong shoulders shaking as he tried to hold himself together. His lips quivered, his eyes full of unspeakable pain as he stared at you, the depth of his betrayal etched into every line of his expression. Another tear fell, rolling down his cheek before dripping to the ground.

You wanted to run to him, to fall to your knees and beg him to understand. But all you could do was watch, trapped in Sylus’s arms, as the man you loved shattered before your eyes.

“I did all of this. For you,” Xavier said, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. He stood frozen, his shoulders tense, his fists trembling at his sides as he stared at you. His words came slowly, as if each one cost him something. “You left with me. You wanted to kiss me too… in the cabin.” His tone grew quieter, almost disbelieving, as though he couldn’t reconcile what had just happened with what he thought you shared. “Are you saying that was all a lie?”

The air seemed to leave your lungs. Each syllable he spoke cut into you, deep and unrelenting, making it harder to breathe. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, your heart screaming no, no, no, but your lips refusing to move.

Xavier’s voice cracked again, barely above a whisper. “Tell me. Was it really a lie?”

Your chest tightened, and you felt your knees threaten to buckle. How could you answer? How could you stand there and tell him the truth when Sylus was mere steps away, watching every move, waiting to retaliate at the slightest provocation? The truth would get Xavier killed, and that was something you couldn’t bear.

You wanted to scream the truth at him, to tell him it wasn’t a lie, that everything in the cabin—the kiss you almost shared, the way you trusted him with your fears—was real. But you couldn’t. You had to protect him. The lie sat like poison on your tongue, burning as it fought to escape.

Finally, trembling, you forced the words out, your voice hollow and shaking. “Yes,” you said, barely audible at first, but then louder, steadier, as though repeating the lie could somehow make it more convincing. “I was just mad at Sylus. I’m sorry.”

The words fell like stones between you, heavy and suffocating. You saw the light in Xavier’s eyes dim as though you’d extinguished it yourself. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his jaw tightening as he fought to process what you’d just said. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes searching desperately for some crack in your resolve, some sign that you didn’t mean it.

But there was nothing you could give him. Your body was frozen, your voice gone, leaving you to stand there in silence as the man you loved broke before you.

Xavier took a step back, his lips parting as though to protest. He looked at you with the same disbelief that had first crossed his face, only now it was mixed with something far more devastating—pain, betrayal, devastation. His voice came again, barely above a whisper. “That wasn’t real to you? Any of it?”

He took another step forward, his hand rising slightly as though he might reach for you, but it faltered in mid-air. “You wanted to kiss me. You stayed with me because you wanted to. Are you saying none of that mattered?”

Your mouth opened, but no sound came. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Your heart screamed at you to tell the truth, to let him see what you were truly feeling, but your voice wouldn’t obey. Tears welled in your eyes as your silence stretched on.

Xavier’s hands dropped to his sides, clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He looked as though he wanted to say something more, as if he was still clinging to the hope that you might tell him it was a lie. But before he could, Sylus stepped in front of you, his presence commanding and deliberate.

“You heard the lady,” Sylus said, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge. His eyes narrowed as they fixed on Xavier, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. “I’m being merciful because that’s what she wishes.”

Sylus took a step closer, placing himself between you and Xavier completely, his hand brushing against your waist in a possessive gesture that made you flinch. His voice dropped lower, colder, as he added, “But don’t mistake that mercy for weakness. You’d be wise not to test me again.”

Xavier’s eyes snapped to Sylus, blazing with barely contained fury. His body trembled with the effort of holding himself back, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to remain still. But his gaze quickly flicked back to you, the fire in his expression dimming as he took in your tear-streaked face.

“Is this really what you want?” Xavier asked, his voice breaking completely. The question wasn’t for Sylus—it was for you and you alone. His tone was raw, desperate, filled with so much pain that you felt your heart crack under the weight of it.

You wanted to scream no, to tell him this wasn’t what you wanted, that none of this was real. But Sylus’s presence loomed over you, a silent reminder of what was at stake. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak for a moment.

“Yes,” you whispered, the lie barely audible. But it was enough.

Xavier flinched again as though you’d physically struck him, his entire body sagging under the weight of your words. His eyes glistened, tears slipping free despite his best efforts to hold them back. His lips quivered, his hands shaking as he struggled to find something to hold onto—some reason not to believe what he was hearing.

But there was nothing you could give him that wouldn't put him in more danger.

Another tear slid down Xavier’s cheek as he turned his head away, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to contain the sob that threatened to escape. Without another word, he stepped back into the shadows, the faint glow of the fight long gone.

And just like that, the man you loved disappeared into the night, leaving you behind with a man that had changed everything.

You crumbled to your knees, your sobs breaking through the stillness of the night like jagged shards of glass. The weight of the moment bore down on you, crushing your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe. The day you’d spent with Xavier flashed before your eyes—the way he’d smiled at you, held you, made you feel human again, even if just for a fleeting moment. For months, you had known nothing but fear and dread, but with him, you’d felt something you thought you’d lost forever: hope.

And now it was gone.

The realization tore through you, raw and unrelenting. Xavier was gone, his pain etched into your memory, and the hollow ache in your chest was unbearable. All hope of being with him, of building a life together, had vanished. You’d given it up. Given him up. You had to, or Sylus would have killed him. Trying to hold onto him, yearning for him, would be his end.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You longed to run after him, to throw yourself into his arms one last time, to bury your face in his chest and tell him the truth. You wanted to see his eyes again—those eyes that had looked at you with such unwavering love—just once more. But your body betrayed you, too heavy with despair to move. You collapsed further onto the ground, clutching your stomach as your daughter kicked violently, her tiny movements only adding to the chaos inside you.

“Shhh,” Sylus’s voice sliced through the haze, low and soothing, dripping with false warmth. “Come now, my love. It’s over."

You felt his arms slide beneath you, lifting you effortlessly from the ground as though you weighed nothing. His touch was gentle, yet his strength was undeniable, a reminder of the control he had over you. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, cradling you against his chest as though you were something precious. “You don’t need to cry anymore.”

You flinched at his touch, disgust curling in your stomach, but your body was too drained to resist. Your sobs turned to quiet gasps as he carried you toward his car, his lips brushing your hair in a mockery of tenderness. The scent of him—warm, sharp, and faintly earthy—made your head swim.

“Lets go home,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a soft hum that made your skin crawl.

The twins followed swiftly behind, their movements efficient as they climbed into the driver and passenger seats. You barely registered them. Everything felt distant, muted, like you were drifting underwater. Sylus placed you carefully into the car, fastening the seatbelt over your trembling form before sliding in beside you. His presence was suffocating, his warmth oppressive as he leaned closer, his eyes fixed on you.

“Say it again,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking through the fog in your mind.

You blinked, your tear-streaked face tilting toward him in confusion. “Wh-what?” you stammered, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Say it again,” he repeated, his crimson eyes boring into yours, intense and unyielding. His hands reached for your face, cradling it gently, almost reverently. “Say you love me.”

Your stomach twisted violently, the bile rising in your throat as his words registered. The sheer audacity of the request—no, the demand—made your breath hitch. His gaze was burning, his expression raw with yearning and something darker, more possessive. It wasn’t just a request. It was a need, a hunger that radiated from him like a physical force.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to pull away from his grasp. “I can’t. It was a lie. I don’t love you.”

You braced yourself for his anger, for his retaliation. You’d seen him unleash his fury before, had witnessed the cold, ruthless man he could become. But to your shock, Sylus didn’t lash out. Instead, his lips curved into a small smile, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t care,” he said softly, his voice steady, almost amused. “You already chose me. I just want to hear it again.”

Before you could react, his gaze dropped to your lips, and he leaned in, capturing them in a kiss so intense it left you breathless. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that was almost overwhelming, as though he wanted to consume every part of you. His hands tightened on your face, holding you in place, his warmth pressing against you until it felt suffocating.

When he finally pulled away, his lips didn’t linger far, trailing a deliberate, heated path down to your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, each exhale brushing against the sensitive curve of your throat and sending a shiver racing down your spine. His movements were slower now, almost maddeningly so, as though he was savoring every inch of you. His lips pressed lightly, his touch deceptively soft as his presence loomed over you, suffocating and consuming.

“Say it,” he whispered against your skin, the word vibrating through you like an electric current. His tone was lower now, husky, his lips brushing against the delicate pulse point in your neck as he spoke. “Please.”

The word stopped you cold. You froze, your breath catching as his plea registered. Please. Sylus had never said “please” before. The sheer vulnerability in the word felt so alien, so at odds with the man who had destroyed and controlled everything in your life. His dominance was still there, suffocating and unrelenting, but beneath it, you could hear a strange desperation, a yearning that twisted your stomach into knots.

Your body betrayed you, the proximity of him igniting a sensation you couldn’t suppress. The heat of his breath, the faint brush of his lips against your skin, sent an unwelcome tingling sensation spreading through you. It was subtle at first—a faint, involuntary reaction to the closeness, to the warmth—but it grew stronger with every second he lingered, every featherlight graze of his lips against your neck.

Was it desire? Was it longing? Or was it just a physical response you couldn’t control? Whatever it was made you feel sick. Your skin tingled with an unwanted awareness of him, the sensation making you hyperconscious of the way his fingers lightly pressed against your jaw, the way his breath fanned out across your throat.

You hated it. Hated the way your body responded against your will, the way the sensations made it harder to focus, harder to think. Every nerve felt raw, heightened, betraying you in ways that made your chest ache with anger and despair. You wanted to pull away, to scream, to tell him to stop, but your body was frozen, caught between the weight of his presence and the sharp, pulsing awareness of every point of contact between you.

“I won’t,” you finally managed, your voice trembling but resolute. The words came out more as a breathless whisper than the firm refusal you wanted them to be. You turned your head sharply, breaking the connection between his lips and your skin, your tears spilling freely as you struggled to regain control of yourself. “I won’t say it.”

His low chuckle rumbled against you, sending another unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice carrying an infuriating amusement, as though your resistance only intrigued him further. “Have it your way, then sweetie.”

You hated him. Hated the smugness in his voice, the possessiveness in his touch. You hated the life growing inside you—not your daughter, never her—but the circumstances that bound you to Sylus. You hated everything he had taken from you—Xavier, your freedom, your hope.

The ache in your chest grew sharper, hotter, until it felt like your heart was being squeezed by an iron fist, crushing every beat into a strained, painful rhythm. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a maelstrom of grief, despair, and rage all colliding in a storm you couldn’t contain. Your lungs tightened, each breath coming in short, shallow gasps that left you lightheaded. Your hands trembled violently as you clutched at your chest, your nails digging into the fabric of your dress as though you could physically tear the pain away.

Your vision blurred with tears, the edges of the car around you becoming indistinct smudges of darkness. The warmth of Sylus’s presence beside you felt suffocating, his closeness amplifying the weight pressing down on your ribs. You felt as though you were being crushed under the enormity of it all—your betrayal of Xavier, your surrender to Sylus, your complete and utter loss of control over your life.

Your sobs wracked your body, uncontrollable and raw. Each gasp for air was a battle, your chest heaving as if it were trying to force the pain out with every broken breath. Your skin burned, clammy with sweat that made the night air feel colder than it should have.

“It hurts,” you gasped, your voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, soaking into the collar of your shirt as your body shook. “It hurts so much…”

The ache radiated outward, stabbing through your arms, your neck, your back, until it felt as though your entire body was rebelling against you. Your heart pounded erratically, each beat sending a sharp, searing pain through your chest. Panic flooded your senses, drowning out reason, making it impossible to focus on anything but the relentless, suffocating pain.

Your mind spiraled, disjointed thoughts flashing through the haze of agony. Is this what heartbreak feels like? Is it my heart—my actual heart? Oh God, what if something’s wrong with the baby? The thought sent another wave of fear crashing over you, your hand moving instinctively to your stomach, trembling as you tried to feel some sign of reassurance, some movement that would tell you everything was okay.

But the kicks you’d felt earlier were gone. Or maybe they were there, and you just couldn’t sense them through the overwhelming fog of pain. The uncertainty made your sobs grow louder, more desperate. You tried to call out, but your voice failed, the words catching in your throat as your chest tightened further.

The edges of your vision darkened, your head spinning as though the world itself had tilted off its axis. You could hear Sylus’s voice beside you, sharp and urgent, but the words didn’t register. Everything was slipping away, your senses fading one by one, until all that remained was the unbearable, unrelenting ache in your chest.

Your vision blurred, your body trembling violently as the pain in your chest became unbearable. The edges of the world grew darker, the sounds around you fading to a dull hum.

“Luke, drive faster,” Sylus barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Kieran, call Dr. Merill. Now!”

The last thing you registered was the sound of tires screeching, Sylus’s arms tightening around you as his voice grew distant. The pain eased into a strange numbness, the darkness swallowing you whole. Then, nothing.

The forest swallowed him whole.

Xavier moved through the dense shadows like a ghost, his steps heavy and unsteady, each one dragging him deeper into the dark. The clearing, the fight, your face—they all faded into the background, but they lingered in his mind like haunting echoes. The cold night air bit at his skin, but he didn’t feel it. The ache in his chest was too overwhelming, too consuming to notice anything else.

His vision blurred, but not from the darkness. Hot tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the ground as his breaths came in short, ragged bursts. He stumbled over a root, catching himself on a nearby tree, his palm scraping against the rough bark. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the searing agony in his chest. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, the raw edges twisting with every step.

She chose him. She said she loves him.

The words repeated in his mind, relentless and cruel. They rang louder than the crunch of his boots against the leaves, louder than the faint rustle of the wind through the trees. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he forced himself to keep moving. But the ache wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t relent, and neither would the tears.

Tears. He hadn’t cried in years. Not really.

As a child, maybe, he had shed a few tears when the world became too big or too frightening to handle. But after that? He had learned to swallow his pain, to bury his emotions deep inside where no one could see them. Tears were for the weak. He had told himself that for so long, believed it so fiercely, that he’d come to think himself immune to them.

But now? Now the dam had broken, and he couldn’t stop. The sobs wracked through his chest, guttural and raw, tearing free from a place so deep he hadn’t even known it existed. You were the only person who could bring him to such a state. He staggered forward, his hand gripping the trunk of a tree to steady himself as the weight of his grief crushed him.

“I love him.”

Your words felt like a knife twisting in his chest, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. He wanted to scream, to curse, to deny it, but all that came out was another broken sob. He slid to his knees, the cold, damp earth biting against his legs as he buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with the force of his cries, his breath coming in short, shuddering gasps that left him dizzy.

Why? Why would you say that?

Xavier lifted his head, his tear-streaked face turning upward toward the canopy of trees. His fists clenched, his knuckles white as he pressed them against the ground. “Dammit!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the stillness. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

He slammed his fist against the dirt, over and over, each strike a futile attempt to expel the rage and anguish coiled in his chest. But it didn’t help. Nothing helped. The pain was still there, sharp and unrelenting, twisting like a vice around his heart.

“She’s lying,” he muttered, his voice shaking. He sat back on his heels, his hands trembling as they fell to his sides. “She has to be lying.”

But even as he said it, doubt crept in, insidious and cruel. What if you weren't lying? What if you truly had chosen Sylus, had willingly gone back to him? The thought made him sick, his stomach churning as fresh tears blurred his vision.

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as if to banish the thought. “No,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “No, she wouldn’t…”

But the image of you in Sylus’s arms burned in his mind, seared into his memory like a brand. The way you had looked at Xavier, your tears streaming down your face, your voice trembling with those words—it haunted him. And the way Sylus had held you, his eyes gleaming with triumph, his hand possessively on your waist—it made Xavier’s blood boil.

“She left with me. She…she wanted to kiss me,” he muttered, his voice trembling as he tried to make sense of it all. His thoughts were disjointed, fragments of memory colliding with the present. “That meant something. It had to.”

The tears came harder, the cold, damp earth biting against his skin. He doubled over, his forehead pressing against the dirt as his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

With the weight of her choice crushing him, he couldn’t stop. The sobs wracked through him, raw and uncontrollable, each one tearing free from the depths of his chest.

His thoughts turned to the cabin, to the way you had looked at him, the way your voice had trembled when you told him your fears, the way you had leaned in, so close to kissing him that he could still feel the ghost of your breath. That wasn’t a lie. That wasn’t fake. It couldn’t have been. You had even wanted him to father your baby. It couldn't have been...

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he spoke the words into the void. He lifted his head, staring into the darkness as tears streamed down his face. “I love you too, Evia. Though we'll never meet.”

But you both were gone. And Xavier was left alone in the dark, his heart shattered, his tears falling freely for the first time in a long time.

The world came back to you slowly, like waking from a deep, fevered sleep. At first, it was just a faint hum—a low murmur of voices that seemed distant, like they were coming from the other end of a tunnel. Your body felt heavy, almost detached, as though the weight of the world had pinned you down. Each breath was a shallow struggle, your chest rising and falling weakly. When you finally blinked your eyes open, the soft glow of dim lights stung, making you wince. You knew this place immediately. The pristine decor, the faint scent of cedar and leather—it was unmistakable. You were back in Sylus’s house.

The first thing you registered was the cool sensation against your stomach. Turning your head slightly, you saw Dr. Merrill seated beside you, his expression focused as he maneuvered an ultrasound wand over your belly. The sight of it brought a brief flicker of awareness. Your daughter. The rhythmic beeping of a nearby machine was faintly reassuring, though you weren’t entirely sure why. Merrill’s attention was on the monitor, his sharp gaze scanning the screen as he spoke to someone just out of view. His voice was steady, clinical, but you caught the faint undertone of concern in his words.

“Sylus,” Dr. Merrill said, his tone low but firm. “She seems stable, but there’s still a risk of—”

A soft groan slipped from your lips as you shifted slightly, the effort sending a dull ache through your entire body. Both men turned toward you instantly, their conversation halting mid-sentence. You could feel the weight of their gazes, sharp and assessing, as though waiting for a sign that you were truly awake.

“I knew it wouldn’t be long before she awoke,” Dr. Merill said, offering a small, measured smile as he set the wand down on a nearby tray. His voice carried a practiced calm, but there was something calculating behind his eyes, as though he were studying you. “How are you feeling?”

You tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Your throat felt raw and dry, your tongue heavy in your mouth. The truth was, you felt terrible—your head throbbed, your chest ached, and your entire body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry. But all you managed was a faint, pitiful whimper. The effort alone left you exhausted, your head sinking back into the pillow.

Sylus was at your side in an instant. His eyes searched your face with an intensity that made your stomach churn, his worry palpable as he brushed a hand across your forehead. His touch was warm, lingering as he frowned. “She’s burning up, Merrill,” he said, his voice tight with concern.

“I’ll get an ice pack,” Dr. Merrill replied briskly, already turning to rummage through his medical bag. His movements were precise, his hands steady as he searched for what he needed.

Sylus didn’t move. His other hand came to rest lightly on your arm, his thumb brushing against your skin in a gesture that was meant to be soothing but only filled you with dread. His gaze never left your face, his expression softening slightly as he leaned closer. “You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’ve got you. Just rest.”

You wanted to turn away from him, to shrink from his touch, but your body felt like it was weighed down by lead. Your mind was too hazy, too heavy with exhaustion and something else you couldn’t quite name. The pain in your chest had lessened, but the ache lingered, a reminder of everything that had brought you here.

Dr. Merrill returned, pressing a cool ice pack against your forehead. The sensation was immediate, cutting through the feverish heat clouding your senses and bringing a small measure of relief. “She’ll be fine,” he said, his tone firm and professional as he looked toward Sylus. “Her Protocore Syndrome flared up—too much stress, combined with her advanced stage of pregnancy. Her heart simply couldn’t keep up.”

Sylus’s jaw tightened, his hand lingering on your arm as his gaze flicked to your belly, then back to Merrill. “And the baby?” he asked, his voice clipped, as though he was bracing himself for the answer.

“The baby’s fine,” Merrill reassured him, gesturing to the monitor. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress. But,” he added, his tone growing sterner, “she needs rest. No excessive movement, no stress, nothing that could exacerbate her condition. She’s nearing the end of her term, so I recommend daily walks outside to keep her circulation steady—but only in moderation.”

Sylus nodded curtly, his expression unreadable, though his eyes remained fixed on you. There was a strange mix of emotions in his gaze—possessiveness, concern, something darker you couldn’t quite name. His hand moved to brush your hair back from your face, his touch careful, almost tender, though it made your stomach churn. “I’ll make sure of it,” he said simply, his voice carrying a quiet finality.

You barely registered their words. Your mind was far away, trapped in an endless loop of memories and pain. Xavier’s face was burned into your thoughts, a constant, inescapable image. The way he had looked at you—his heartbreak, his disbelief, the tear that had slipped down his cheek. It replayed over and over, a cruel reminder of what you had done, of the man you had destroyed to save him.

You have to let him go, you thought, the words like a knife in your chest. You have to shove him down, bury him so deep he can never surface again. But the harder you tried, the more his face rose to the surface, vivid and all-consuming.

“She’s disassociating,” Dr. Merrill said softly, his voice breaking through the haze of your thoughts. His perceptive gaze fell on you, his tone calm but laced with subtle concern. “Her body may be recovering, but her mind isn’t. She needs time.”

Sylus’s hand tightened slightly against your arm, his touch grounding but heavy. “She’ll have all the time she needs,” he said firmly, his voice low and protective. “I’ll see to it.”

You turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. His expression was resolute, his gaze steady as though daring you to challenge him. But you couldn’t. You simply nodded faintly, closing your eyes as the weight of exhaustion and heartbreak pulled you back under.

And as the darkness crept in, Xavier’s tear-streaked face lingered in your mind, unyielding and inescapable. No matter how deep you tried to bury him, he refused to let go. And somewhere deep inside, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to.

The days blurred together as you spent them confined to Sylus’s bed. It wasn’t confinement in the strict sense—there were no locks on the door, no chains tethering you to the room—but you might as well have been imprisoned. Sylus’s presence loomed constantly, his gaze watching your every move with a vigilance that made your skin crawl. Ever since the scare with your heart, he had taken it upon himself to monitor you closely, doing everything in his power to keep you "comfortable."

He did almost everything for you. Too much, in fact. He brought your meals, adjusted your pillows, even attempted to spoon-feed you once. That particular moment had tested what little patience you had left. You’d snatched the fork from his hand with a sharp glare, refusing to meet his amused smile as he murmured something about how stubborn you were.

But even with Sylus hovering and managing every detail of your physical care, your mind remained your own battleground. Xavier haunted you, his face a constant presence in your thoughts. The ache in your chest didn’t ease—it had simply settled into a dull, persistent throb that you carried with you everywhere. What is he doing? Where did he go? Is he still alive?

No matter how hard you tried to push the questions away, they always returned, stubborn and relentless. The moments when Sylus wasn’t in the room were the worst, the silence amplifying your thoughts until they were deafening. Still, you didn’t cry. You had cried so much over the past several months that the tears felt meaningless now. They hadn’t helped you before, and they wouldn’t help you now. There was no catharsis to be found in them, no solace. It was time to accept your circumstances, even if the acceptance tasted bitter on your tongue.

You had fought. You reminded yourself of that every time the despair threatened to pull you under. You had fought with everything you had, and you had lost. But at least you could tell yourself it wasn’t for nothing. Xavier was alive—somewhere—and that had to mean something. At least your loss had bought him time, bought him freedom. That small, fragile victory was all you had to cling to.

And in the quiet moments, you reminded yourself that things could be worse. Sylus could have been cruel in ways that made your skin crawl just to imagine. He could have beaten you, starved you, locked you away in a cage like an animal. But he didn’t. Not physically, at least. His punishments were subtler, his control over you no less suffocating for its lack of physical violence.

It surprised you, though, that Sylus hadn’t punished you at all for running away with Xavier. You had expected fury, retribution, but instead, he had been calm. Gentle, even. It didn’t make sense, and that unsettled you more than if he’d lashed out. Sylus was unpredictable in ways that made it hard to breathe when you were near him.

Your sadness wasn’t just for yourself anymore. It extended to the tiny life growing inside you, to the daughter who had no say in any of this. She would grow up in a world you couldn’t protect her from, tied to a father you couldn’t shield her from. You hated that you couldn’t give her the life she deserved. You hated that you couldn’t even summon excitement for her arrival, though you tried. Coping was all you could manage—coping and surviving.

Eventually, Sylus allowed you to move around the house, though his watchful gaze followed you even then. One night, you found yourself in the nursery, a room you hadn’t spent much time in until now. The soft glow of a lamp lit the space, casting warm shadows over the pale walls and the carefully arranged furniture. A crib stood in the corner, draped with a delicate mobile of stars and clouds, and shelves lined with toys and books hinted at the life your daughter would one day have.

You sat on a small chair by the window, a basket of freshly laundered baby clothes at your feet. Onesies and tiny socks were scattered across your lap, their pastel colors bright against the dim room. Your hands moved automatically, folding and smoothing each piece as you tried to distract yourself with idle fantasies. What will she look like? What will her voice sound like? Will she laugh easily? Cry often?

You weren’t particularly excited, but in these quiet moments, you allowed yourself to wonder. Even if it hurt, even if you felt like you were building castles in the sand while the tide crept closer.

The sound of a voice startled you, and you jumped, the onesie in your hands slipping to the floor.

“You look peaceful,” Sylus said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the quiet like a blade.

You turned sharply, your heart racing as you saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on you. He didn’t move, but his presence filled the room, oppressive and inescapable.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I was just… folding her clothes,” you said, your voice weaker than you intended.

Sylus’s lips curled into a faint smile as he stepped inside, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking prey. “You’re up later than usual,” he said, his tone almost amused. “I wasn’t sure you’d adjust so quickly.”

Your hands clenched into fists around the fabric in your lap, the forced calm of his words grating against your nerves. You didn’t respond. What was there to say?

Sylus reached your side, his fingers brushing against the chair’s backrest as he loomed over you. “You’ll be an excellent mother,” he said softly, his gaze dropping to your belly. “She’ll be amazing. Just like you.”

His words felt like a vice tightening around your chest, the weight of his expectations pressing down on you. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, your gaze dropping to the onesies scattered at your feet as your stomach churned.

“Why are you here?” you asked finally, your voice strained.

Sylus tilted his head, his smile deepening. “Because I wanted to talk,” he said simply. And somehow, that answer felt worse than anything else he could have said.

“What’s there to even talk about?” you asked, your voice subdued but tinged with quiet frustration. You kept your gaze on the tiny clothes in your lap, your hands moving aimlessly as you tried to ignore the weight of Sylus’s presence behind you.

“The penthouses,” he said smoothly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “I wanted to know if you’d made up your mind about which one you’d like to move to.”

You sucked in a breath, the mention of it sending a jolt through you. Of course. How could you forget? A larger prison was waiting for you, dressed up as luxury, right after you gave birth to a child you weren’t even sure you could raise or love properly. The thought sat heavy in your stomach, twisting into an ache that threatened to rise to your throat. But you couldn’t let it show. You couldn’t let him see.

Keeping your voice as even as possible, you replied, “Ah. Sorry, it slipped my mind, love. I’ll take a look at them again in the morning, okay?”

You didn’t turn to look at him, your focus firmly planted on the onesies in your lap. The word “love” felt foreign and bitter on your tongue, but you said it anyway, hoping it would keep the moment from escalating. For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft rustle of fabric.

But Sylus wasn’t the type to be brushed aside so easily.

Sylus leaned down next to your head, until you could feel the heat of him breathing next to your ear. His voice was lower now, more commanding as he said, “Look at me.”

The tone of his words left no room for refusal. Your body tensed instinctively, but you obeyed, turning your head slowly to meet his gaze. His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching, as though he could see every thought, every secret, every feeling buried deep within you. The weight of his stare made your chest tighten, your breath catching as you waited for him to speak.

He didn’t, not at first. The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive, as he simply studied you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he broke the quiet, his voice softer now but no less penetrating. “Are you doing okay these days? You’ve been very quiet.”

The question threw you off balance. His tone carried an air of genuine concern, but you didn’t trust it. Not fully. How could you possibly be okay with everything that had transpired? With everything you’d endured? You swallowed hard, your throat dry as you struggled to find an answer that wouldn’t tip the balance.

“I honestly…don’t know,” you said finally, your voice faltering. The admission felt dangerous, like exposing a raw nerve, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “Everything’s happening so soon and yet so fast at the same time. And sometimes…”

You hesitated, unsure if you should continue. The rest of the sentence hung on the tip of your tongue, heavy and uncertain. Sylus tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “Sometimes?” he prompted, his voice low and coaxing.

You sucked in a nervous breath, your fingers twisting the fabric of a onesie in your lap. The words felt fragile, as though saying them aloud would make them too real, but the look in his eyes made it clear he wouldn’t let it go. Finally, you forced yourself to speak, your voice trembling as you said, “Sometimes I wonder what things would have been like if we had met…y’know, normally.”

His reaction was immediate. His crimson eyes widened slightly, the flicker of surprise unmistakable. For a man who seemed to pride himself on being unreadable, he wasn’t prepared for your words. He blinked once, his lips parting as though he meant to say something, but no sound came out.

Finally, he exhaled slowly, his expression shifting to something contemplative. “That’s…an interesting thought,” he said, his voice quieter now. He straightened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to draw closer, his gaze softening as he studied your face. “I’ve thought about it too.”

The admission sent a ripple through you, unsettling and confusing all at once. The idea that Sylus, the man who had orchestrated so much of your suffering, had entertained thoughts of a different life was difficult to reconcile. “You’ve thought about it?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

He nodded, his lips curving into a faint, almost wistful smile. “More than once,” he admitted, his tone quieter, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it. “I wonder…if we’d met under normal circumstances, if I could have shown you the kind of man I wanted to be, instead of the man I had to become.”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unexpected. There was something raw in his tone, something almost regretful, and it left you feeling off-balance. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. Instead, you looked down, your hands fiddling with the baby clothes as the silence stretched between you.

Sylus let out a soft sigh, stepping closer until he was right beside you. He knelt down, lowering himself to your eye level as his hand reached out to brush against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as though he was afraid you might flinch. “I know I’ve made your life… difficult,” he said, his voice steady but laced with a rare vulnerability. “But I want to be a better man for you both."

His hand moved to rest lightly on your belly, the gesture both grounding and suffocating. You swallowed hard, your chest tightening as you struggled to process his words.

“Do you hate me?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft but unyielding.

The question hit you like a punch, and your breath caught in your throat. You looked at him, startled by the rawness in his expression. For once, there was no smugness, no calculated charm—just an earnestness that made your heart twist.

“I…” The word stuck, your mind reeling. Did you hate him? You wanted to. You felt like you should. But the emotions tangled inside you were too complex, too messy to pin down. “I don’t know sometimes,” you said finally, your voice barely audible.

Sylus nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. “I can live with that,” he said softly. “As long as there’s a chance for something more.”

He lingered for a moment longer, his hand brushing against yours before he semmed to ponder something. “You don’t have to decide anything about the penthouses, tonight,” he said, his tone returning to its usual steadiness. “Just…think about it.”

But , he didn’t leave. Instead, to your surprise, he leaned beside the basket of baby clothes at your feet, his crimson eyes scanning the scattered onesies and socks as though considering them for the first time. Without a word, he reached for one—a pale yellow onesie with tiny embroidered stars along the collar—and held it up between his fingers.

For a moment, the sight of him holding something so small, so innocent, caught you off guard. It was almost surreal to see Sylus, a man who wielded power with such ease and ruthlessness, gently smoothing out the fabric of a baby’s outfit. His expression softened, and he glanced at you with an almost shy smile.

“These are…smaller than I imagined,” he said quietly, his tone thoughtful. “It’s hard to believe she’ll be wearing this soon.”

You blinked, momentarily disarmed by the gentleness in his voice. “Yeah,” you said softly, your hands stilling on the onesie in your lap. “I guess it’s hard to picture. The size of your hands probably don't help much for comparison though.”

He nodded slightly, his fingers brushing over the fabric before he began folding the onesie carefully, his movements precise but unfamiliar, like someone mimicking an action they’d only ever seen. You watched him silently, unsure of how to process the sight.

When he finished folding, he placed the onesie neatly on the growing pile of clothes and reached for another. “I’ve never done this before,” he admitted, glancing at you briefly. “I’m probably terrible at it.”

A faint, involuntary smile tugged at your lips. “You’re…actually not bad,” you said, your voice softer than you intended.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly at your words, a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his expression. He picked up a pair of tiny socks next, holding them up with a bemused look. “These are very tiny,” he said, almost to himself. “Will they even fit?”

“They will, at least for a little while” you replied, reaching out to take the socks from him. Your fingers brushed against his briefly, and you pulled back quickly, focusing on folding the socks and setting them aside.

Sylus seemed to notice your reaction but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he continued picking up the clothes one by one, his focus now fully on the task at hand. The silence between you was no longer heavy or strained—it felt almost…normal. The rhythm of folding, smoothing, and stacking clothes became a strange sort of peace, a momentary reprieve from the weight of everything else.

As you worked together, Sylus spoke again, his voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been thinking a lot about her,” he said, his gaze dropping to the clothes in his hands. “What kind of father I’ll be. What kind of life I can give her.”

His words surprised you, and you glanced at him cautiously, unsure of where he was going with this. “And what did you decide?” you asked tentatively.

He paused, his fingers lingering on a pale pink onesie with tiny hearts on the sleeves. “I decided that I want to do better. For her. For you.” His crimson eyes lifted to meet yours, his expression unusually vulnerable. “I know I can’t change the past. But I can change what happens next.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The sincerity in his voice left you speechless, leaving you struggling to find the right words. Instead, you nodded slightly, your hands moving automatically as you folded another onesie.

Sylus seemed to sense your hesitation, but he didn’t press you. He simply continued folding, the two of you working in quiet companionship. It was a strange moment—so ordinary, yet so weighted by the complexities of your relationship. You didn’t know if you could trust his words, his intentions, but for now, you let yourself focus on the simple, tangible task in front of you.

Because for now, it was all you could manage.

“You’re leaving again?” you asked, your voice edged with disbelief, though you tried to mask it. You watched Sylus move briskly around the room, the scent of his shower lingering in the air—a mix of cedarwood and something faint that seemed uniquely him. Water still clung to the ends of his hair, wet and glistening as he combed it back with quick, practiced strokes. He was buttoning up a crisp red shirt, the tailored fabric clinging perfectly to his broad frame, his every movement purposeful and efficient.

“How long this time?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, your arms folding instinctively over the curve of your belly as you tried to steady yourself. The weight of your pregnancy, both literal and figurative, made his sudden departure feel heavier, more precarious than usual.

Sylus paused, his crimson eyes flicking to meet yours briefly before returning to his task. There was something in his expression—regret, maybe, or something close to it—but his voice was steady when he spoke. “Not long. As much as I hate to leave you, this isn’t something I can ignore.”

The words felt rehearsed, polished, as if he’d already prepared for this conversation in his mind. He moved toward the dresser, fastening a sleek watch around his wrist, the faint metallic click of the clasp echoing in the quiet room. His calmness only unsettled you further.

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the curve of your belly as you took in his explanation. “The twins are staying behind to watch you,” he added, his tone matter-of-fact, as if that solved everything. “If anything changes—or your water breaks—they’ll let me know immediately.”

You blinked, absorbing his words. The twins. Of course. They were always his solution when it came to you, a pair of silent shadows who loomed wherever Sylus directed them. It wasn’t exactly reassuring. The thought of those two watching your every move, reporting back to Sylus, made you feel more like a caged bird than ever.

“And this couldn’t wait?” you pressed gently, trying to keep your voice neutral. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, your heart pounding as you braced for his response.

Sylus turned back toward the mirror, running a hand through his damp hair as he grabbed a small vial of cologne and dabbed it at his neck. The scent mingled with the steam still clinging to the room, rich and sharp. He exuded control, a man preparing for something important. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was going—and why it seemed to demand such attention to detail.

The thought gnawed at you, spiraling into an uncomfortable suspicion. Why does he need to look this good? You didn’t want to voice it, didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, but Sylus must have noticed the flicker of doubt in your expression.

He let out a low chuckle, crossing the room in a few long strides until he stood directly in front of you. “This isn’t to see some other woman,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. His crimson eyes softened slightly as he leaned down to press a swift kiss to your lips. “Calm down.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat rising to your face. “I wasn’t—” you started, but the words died in your throat as Sylus knelt in front of you, his attention shifting entirely.

He placed his hands lightly on either side of your belly, his touch firm but gentle, and leaned in to press a featherlight kiss against the taut skin. The gesture sent a jolt through you, the intimacy of it disarming you entirely.

“Don’t make your mommy too sick while I’m gone, okay, little dove?” he murmured, his voice lower now, carrying a warmth that felt almost too genuine to bear.

Your heart twisted, conflicted by the tenderness of the moment. Sylus had a way of doing this—disarming you, leaving you unsure of where you stood or how to feel. One moment, he was the man who had torn your life apart, and the next, he was murmuring to your unborn child with a warmth that almost seemed genuine.

Your daughter responded with a faint kick, and your hand moved instinctively to the spot. Sylus noticed, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “She’s awake,” he said softly, his hand brushing yours for the briefest moment before he straightened.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your racing heart. “Just…don’t be gone too long,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, almost resigned.

Sylus reached for his jacket, sliding it on in one fluid motion. His movements were quick, efficient, but he paused as he grabbed the doorknob, glancing back at you. His gaze lingered, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened again.

“I won’t be,” he said, his voice steady but not entirely convincing. “And remember—you’re in good hands.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the door, a silent reference to the twins.

You nodded faintly, your hands moving back to your belly as you tried to ground yourself. “Safe,” you murmured under your breath, the word feeling hollow in the air between you.

Without another word, Sylus opened the door, the cool air of the hallway brushing against your skin as he stepped out. The sound of his shoes echoed faintly as he disappeared down the corridor, leaving you standing alone in the quiet room, your thoughts louder than ever.

You let out a shaky breath, sinking back into the chair by the window. The weight of his absence settled over you, but it was quickly replaced by something else—an unease, a gnawing feeling that refused to let go. You didn’t know where Sylus was going, or why it felt like this time was different. But the thought of him leaving so close to your due date filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread.

The twins weren’t so bad. They were entertaining to watch, at least. They were as attentive as Sylus in some regards, albeit a bit clumsy. While Sylus always carried an air of control, the twins sometimes felt like they were figuring things out as they went along. It was endearing, in its own way—though you’d never admit that to their faces.

You often found yourself watching them out of boredom, your days stretching endlessly in the quiet house. They didn’t talk much unless they had to, and when they did, it was usually to argue with each other in low tones. But their constant presence, though stifling, offered a strange sense of consistency in a life that felt increasingly unsteady.

One morning, you found yourself restless. The nursery had already been organized and reorganized, the house was spotless, and you couldn’t stomach the idea of lying in bed another second. You wandered into the kitchen, the idea of cooking something—anything—suddenly appealing. The smell of vegetables sizzling on the stove, the sound of a knife against a cutting board… it was something tangible, something normal. Something that was yours.

But as soon as you began pulling ingredients from the pantry, the twins appeared. Luke leaned casually against the doorway, his features hidden behind his mask as he watched you. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

“Cooking,” you replied simply, setting a carton of eggs on the counter.

“Cooking,” he repeated, tilting his head. “You sure you don’t want us to just order something? Less dangerous that way.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a few vegetables from the fridge. “I’m sure. And if you’re going to hover, you might as well help.”

Luke laughed softly, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s in my job description.”

Kieran, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his head shifting between you and the array of ingredients on the counter. “What are you making?” he asked, his voice calm.

“Stir-fry,” you replied, grabbing a knife and starting to chop. “Nothing fancy.”

Kieran nodded, moving to the sink to wash his hands. Luke, on the other hand, stayed planted in the doorway, watching with mild amusement.

“You’re actually helping?” Luke asked, incredulous.

“She shouldn’t be standing this long,” Kieran replied simply, taking a carrot from the counter and slicing it with precise, mechanical movements.

“I’m right here, you know,” you muttered, shooting him a glance.

Luke chuckled, finally stepping into the kitchen. “Fine. But if I burn something, it’s on you.”

The three of you worked in an awkward sort of harmony—Kieran slicing vegetables with military precision, Luke fumbling with the stove controls, and you guiding them both with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Despite Luke’s earlier protests, he eventually started to take the task seriously, though his grumbling never entirely ceased.

When the food was finally done, you all sat at the kitchen table, the tension between you lightened by the mundane simplicity of the moment. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of normalcy.

That sense of normalcy didn’t last long.

It was the middle of the night when you woke to a sharp, tightening pain low in your belly. You gasped, your hand flying to your stomach as panic set in. Was this it? Was she coming early? The room felt too warm, too quiet, and you called out instinctively.

“Luke? Kieran?”

The door flew open almost immediately, Kieran stepping inside first with his usual calm intensity. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his head scanning you quickly, assessing the situation.

Luke appeared behind him, looking far less composed. “Is it the baby?” he asked, his voice tight.

“I-I don’t know,” you stammered, your heart racing. “It hurt. I think… I think it’s starting.”

Luke grabbed his phone, muttering something about calling Sylus, while Kieran moved closer, crouching beside the bed. “Breathe,” he instructed, his tone steady but not unkind. “Tell me exactly what you’re feeling.”

You tried to describe the sensations, your words tumbling over each other as another wave of discomfort rolled through you. But just as quickly as it had started, the pain subsided, leaving you feeling exhausted and embarrassed.

“I don’t think it’s labor,” you said finally, your voice shaky. “Just… Braxton Hicks, maybe?”

“Braxton what?” Luke asked, still clutching his phone like a lifeline.

“False contractions,” Kieran supplied, his attention still on you. “It’s common.”

Luke groaned, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I was scared shitless that I was about to deliver a baby” he muttered, though his voice carried more relief than frustration.

Despite the scare, you managed a faint smile. It was almost comical, seeing these two hardened boys thrown off balance by something so mundane.

The next day brought more excitement, though of an entirely different kind.

You were sitting in the living room when the house alarm blared, its piercing wail sending your heart racing. The twins appeared almost immediately, Kieran with a knife in hand and Luke wielding a gun.

“Stay here,” Kieran said sharply, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You nodded, clutching your belly as you watched them disappear down the hallway. Your mind raced with possibilities—an intruder, an attack, something that Sylus would undoubtedly be worried about. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before the twins returned.

Kieran was carrying something in his arms—a small, scruffy cat. Its fur was matted, its eyes wide and curious as it squirmed in his grip.

“Seriously?” Luke muttered, silencing the alarm. “A damn cat?”

“It tripped the door sensor,” Kieran said evenly, though his grip on the animal suggested he wasn’t thrilled about the situation either.

You blinked at the sight, the absurdity of it cutting through your lingering fear. “So…no intruder?”

“Unless you count this thing,” Luke replied, gesturing at the cat.

Despite yourself, you laughed softly. “What are you going to do with it?”

Kieran looked down at the cat, then at you. “What do you want to do with it?”

For a moment, you considered keeping it. The idea of a companion, even a scruffy stray, was tempting. But the reality of your situation hit quickly, and you shook your head. “Let it go. It’s probably just lost.”

Kieran nodded, carrying the cat to the door and setting it outside. As he returned, Luke clapped his hands. “Well, that was the most excitement we’ve had all week.”

For once, you couldn’t disagree.

A week had passed, and the weight of your thoughts seemed to get heavier with each passing day. Sylus’s absence felt more oppressive than ever. Though he checked in regularly, his vague answers only left you with more questions. You could tell he wasn’t being completely honest with you, but there was little you could do about it. The twins were always around, their watchful eyes following you from a distance. It wasn’t comforting, but it was better than being completely alone.

You did your best to keep yourself occupied—books, music, TV, whatever you could to keep the crushing weight of your thoughts at bay. The daily walks outside helped too, though even those were becoming more difficult. Your belly was undeniably huge, the weight making even the simplest movements feel like monumental tasks. At 36 weeks, you were well into your ninth month, and the pressure on your body was relentless.

You had to grip Kieran or Luke’s shoulders sometimes to keep your balance, and even then, it felt like you might topple over at any moment. You could only mutter to yourself, “Just a few more weeks…” as you breathed in the cool air of the N109 Zone. The breeze hit your face, refreshing but fleeting, before it was replaced with the growing ache in your lower back.

Luke and Kieran were chatting behind you, laughing softly over some trivial conversation, both of them sipping cans of soda. It was funny they had to life their masks to do so. You didn’t want to slow them down, so you walked ahead, trying to ignore the heaviness in your belly and the increasing tightness in your abdomen. But just as you were about to wave them off, a sharp, searing pain shot through your lower stomach. Another Braxton Hicks contraction.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as your hand instinctively moved to your belly. The pain passed quickly, but the sensation left your heart racing. You turned to stop the twins but before you could get the words out, Luke collided into you from behind. The impact caused him to spill his entire can of soda all over the front of your shirt, a cold, sticky mess.

“Ah! Miss! I’m so, so sorry!” Luke’s voice cracked in panic, genuine shock evident in his movements. “I—uh, I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could respond, Luke’s hands were frantically pulling his coat off. “Here! Take it!” he said, draping it hastily over your shoulders in an attempt to hide your bra. “I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You sighed, your voice strained but calm. “It’s alright, Luke. It was an accident. But I’d really appreciate a towel…I don’t feel like going all the way back into the house.”

“Yes, ma’am! Right away!” Luke practically sprinted back to the house, leaving Kieran standing behind you.

Kieran’s sharp gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable as he watched you shift, trying to keep your composure despite the discomfort. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone cautious but steady.

You nodded slowly, leaning against the statue in front of the house for support. “I’m fine. Just…a little uncomfortable. Nothing to worry about.”

Kieran didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he said nothing, hovering near you as if he was nervous. You absentmindedly slid your hand into the pocket of Luke’s coat, the fabric thick and warm against your cold skin. Your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic, and a strange jolt ran through you.

Wait. Is that...?

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. The shape was unmistakable, the hard, smooth surface of a handgun. Slowly, your fingers curled around its grip, the coolness of the metal biting into your skin as you pulled it out. The weapon was compact but weighty, its matte black finish glimmering as you turned it. The barrel was short and blunt, the kind of design meant for concealment and close quarters. It felt foreign in your hands, the ridges of the grip pressing into your palm like a warning.

The safety was off. You saw the small red dot near the trigger, glaring at you like a silent alarm, and the realization sent your heart into overdrive. This wasn’t a precautionary tool; it was ready to fire, lethal and unforgiving. A faint scratch along the slide spoke to use, the weapon far from pristine but well-maintained—a stark contrast to your trembling, inexperienced hands.

Your pulse spiked as you stared at it, your breath quickening. A faint smell of oil and metal clung to the gun, sharp and distinct, mingling with the earthy scent of the dirt around you. The weight of it felt heavier with every second, its presence as real and pressing as the danger it represented.

What the hell?

“Miss, put that down,” he said, his tone colder, sharper than you’d ever heard it before. His body immediately stiffened, his hands rising slowly in a placating gesture. His usually calm demeanor was replaced with something taut and tense, his gaze seemingly locked onto the weapon with unflinching precision.

“You don’t want to do this,” he added, his voice steady but carrying a note of urgency, as though he were trying to reason with a cornered animal.

But his words barely registered. The gun felt like a live wire in your hands, humming with possibilities both terrifying and exhilarating. For the first time in what felt like forever, you had control—real control—and the realization sent a jolt of adrenaline through your veins.

Your hand shook, but you held the weapon steady, pointing it directly at Kieran’s chest. “Stay back,” you warned, your voice trembling with raw fear. But there was something else in your chest—something fiercer, something that burned like a fire. This was your only chance.

Kieran’s expression hardened, his hands still raised, but his eyes flickered with hesitation. “Miss, please, don’t—”

“Shut up!” you screamed, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You could feel the blood rushing in your ears, the adrenaline fueling every shaky breath you took. The gun felt heavy in your hands, but it was also the only thing that offered you control—control over this situation, over your own fate. “Move any closer and I’ll shoot.”

Kieran froze, his body clenched, clearly unsure of what to do. He took a small step back, his head darting between you and the weapon.

You heard footsteps approaching quickly, and you didn’t need to look to know that Luke was back with the towel. He entered the yard, his demeanor shifting to shock as he saw you holding the gun, pointing it at Kieran.

“Shit…Miss, just put it down. No one has to get hurt.” Luke’s voice was strained, full of disbelief as he held up his hands in surrender. “Please. Just…put it down.”

“I said stop!” you yelled, swinging the gun between the two of them. They both froze for a moment, their gazes locked on the trembling barrel, but then Luke gave a slight nod to Kieran. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

You watched, heart pounding, as they began moving again—slowly, cautiously, closing the distance between you step by step. “Stop! Stop moving!” you screamed, your voice growing more frantic, but they didn’t listen.

They won’t stop. They’re not afraid of you.

Panic surged in your chest as your mind raced. Think. Think. If the threat isn’t towards them…

Your breath caught as the realization hit you like a lightning bolt. But if it’s towards me and the baby…

Your hands trembled as you turned the gun, the cold barrel pressing against your temple. The metal felt like ice against your skin, grounding you in the chaos of the moment. The twins froze instantly, their expressions shifting from caution to shock.

“Move any closer, and I’ll shoot,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. The fear in their eyes mirrored your own, their hesitation palpable as they exchanged a quick, uncertain glance.

“Miss,” Luke began, his voice low and steady, though it wavered slightly, “I understand you’re upset, but this is no way to—”

“Shut up!” you screamed, your finger brushing the trigger. Your heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst, each beat echoing in your ears. “Don’t try to talk me down. Just move out of my way!”

For the first time, they stopped. Completely. The tension in the air was suffocating, their eyes glued to you as though you were a fragile bomb about to go off. And maybe you were.

This was your one chance, and you weren’t going to waste it. “Move,” you repeated, your voice shaking with desperation. “Move, or I swear I'll blow my brains right here.”

“Miss…the baby,” Luke began, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Think of the baby. She deserves a chance to live at least, right? Just a few more weeks, maybe we can try and talk to Sylu—”

Before he could finish, you raised the gun and fired two sharp, deafening shots into the air. The sound shattered the quiet, echoing through the trees and startling birds into flight. Both twins flinched, their gazes snapping back to you with widened eyes.

“Out of the fucking way, Luke!” you shouted, your voice hoarse but unyielding. “I won’t ask again!”

Your hands trembled as you leveled the gun back toward your own head, the adrenaline pumping through your veins making your vision sharpen, your focus narrowing to the two figures in front of you. The raw power in your voice surprised even you, but you didn’t let yourself falter. Not now.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The wind stilled, the trees silent, as if the earth itself was waiting to see what would happen next. Luke and Kieran exchanged a quick glance, their expressions unreadable but tense. It was Kieran who moved first, his hands still raised as he took a deliberate step to the side. Luke followed, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

You didn’t wait to see if it was a trick. The second the path cleared, you bolted. Freedom felt so close you could taste it, and nothing—not the twins, not Sylus, not the aching weight of your belly—was going to stop you.

You dodged past them, your movements unsteady but fueled by sheer determination. The gun felt like an anchor in your hands, but you kept it close, your finger hovering over the trigger just in case. Each step felt like a small victory as you made your way toward the front gate.

“Miss, don’t—” Luke started to call after you, but his voice faded into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart.

The front gate loomed ahead, its black iron bars glinting in the sunlight. You reached it, your hands fumbling with the latch before swinging it open with a force you didn’t know you had. The hinges groaned in protest, but the gate gave way, and you stumbled forward onto the gravel road beyond.

Keep moving. The thought roared in your mind, drowning out everything else. You needed to find a car, something fast, something that could put as much distance between you and this nightmare as possible.

Your breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, your chest heaving as you pressed on. You didn’t even feel the strain of your belly anymore, the adrenaline numbing everything but your will to escape. The gravel crunched beneath your feet, each step carrying you farther and farther away.

The reality of your situation gnawed at the edges of your mind, but you shoved it aside. The twins would already be calling Sylus, alerting him to your escape. You had no illusions about how quickly he’d come after you. But for now, for this fleeting moment, you were free. The chains that had bound you—physically, emotionally, mentally—were broken, and the rush of it was almost overwhelming.

You glanced over your shoulder as you reached the end of the drive, half-expecting to see Kieran or Luke chasing after you. But they hadn’t moved from their spot by the gate, their figures still as statues as they watched you go. It was almost unnerving, the way they stood there, as though they were waiting for something.

But you didn’t have time to wonder what. You turned your gaze back to the road ahead, your mind racing with plans and possibilities. Get a car. Cover as much ground as possible. Don’t let this be like last time.

The thought burned in your mind like a mantra as you pushed forward into the eternal night once more, the taste of freedom bitter but intoxicating on your tongue. Whatever happened next, at least for this moment, you were free.

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