Joy's POV

The first thing I felt was the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me, making it impossible to move. My body ached in ways I couldn't explain, every limb heavy, every breath shallow. It was as if I had been drained of everything—strength, will, even thought.

For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, pretending I was still asleep, pretending I was anywhere but here. Maybe if I stayed still long enough, I could disappear into the darkness behind my eyelids, escape into a world where he didn't exist.

But then I felt it.

A touch—slow, possessive, tracing along my spine like a whisper of warning. He was awake. Watching. Waiting.

A shiver ran through me, my body betraying me before I could stop it. I bit my lip, willing myself to stay still, to keep my breathing even, but I knew it was useless. He could read me too well. He always knew when I was awake, when fear was curling its cold fingers around my heart.

I wanted to run. The thought struck me before I could stop it, but where would I go? There were no doors in this house that didn't lead back to him. No escape that wouldn't end with his hands around my wrists, his voice whispering against my skin, reminding me that I was his.

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes open. The room was bathed in soft moonlight, casting eerie shadows along the walls. My body felt sore, used, claimed, and I hated how easily he had reduced me to this—someone who had nothing left to fight with.

I felt him shift beside me, his fingers sliding up to my shoulder, his grip firm but not rough. Not yet.

"You're awake," he murmured, his voice deep, amused. He had known all along.

I didn't respond. What was there to say? That I hated him? That I feared him? That no matter how many times I dreamed of escape, I knew deep down there was no freedom beyond these walls?

His hand moved, trailing up to my throat, his fingers curling loosely around it, a silent reminder of his control.

"Good," he whispered. "I was getting bored waiting for you."

A sharp chill ran down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut again, as if that could block out the reality closing in around me.

His fingers stayed around my throat, not squeezing, just resting there, as if to remind me that my breath, my very existence, was his to control. My pulse betrayed me, hammering beneath his touch, and I hated that he could feel it, that he knew what he did to me.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a quiet command.

I didn't want to. But defiance only led to worse things, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to endure them tonight. Slowly, I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze.

Adrik was lying beside me, propped up on his elbow, watching me with an expression that sent ice through my veins. Possessive. Amused. Satisfied. Like he was admiring his handiwork, like I was a piece of art he had sculpted with his own hands.

"You slept well," he mused, his thumb brushing against my jaw, tilting my face toward him. "I suppose exhaustion will do that to you."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting. That was what he wanted—to see the flicker of fear in my eyes, to watch me flinch under his touch. I wouldn't give him that. Not tonight.

His smirk widened as if he could hear my thoughts, as if he knew every desperate attempt I made to hold on to what little I had left of myself. Maybe he did. Maybe he had already taken that from me too.

"You're learning," he murmured, stroking his fingers over my collarbone. "Good girl."

The words sent a sickening heat through my body, and I hated it. Hated that there was no part of me he hadn't touched, no part of me that felt like mine anymore.

I turned my face away, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but the way his fingers moved so carelessly over my skin, like he had all the time in the world.

"You don't get to look away from me," he said, his tone still calm, but I knew better.

I forced myself to meet his gaze again. The amusement was fading now, replaced by something darker. Something more dangerous.

"You belong to me, Joy," he said, his voice softer now, more intimate, as if he was sharing a secret. "Every part of you. Your body. Your thoughts. Even your dreams." His fingers traced over my lips, a featherlight touch that made my stomach twist. "Tell me you understand."

I swallowed hard. What choice did I have?

"...I understand."

A slow, satisfied smile curled at his lips.

"Good," he murmured, leaning closer, his breath warm against my skin. "Because I have no intention of letting you forget."

The weight of his words settled over me like chains, heavy and unbreakable. I wanted to scream, to fight, to claw at the walls until my fingers bled—but what was the point? There was no door I could run through, no window I could climb out of, no place in this world where Adrik wouldn't find me.

He had made sure of that.

His fingers left my throat, tracing a slow path down my collarbone, over my shoulder, lingering just long enough to remind me that he could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He was watching me closely, waiting for my reaction, feeding off the quiet, helpless panic I tried to keep buried.

I stayed still. Motionless. Like prey that had already been caught in the jaws of the beast, knowing any sudden movement would only make things worse.

Adrik chuckled, low and deep, amused by my stillness. "You're so quiet tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "Did I wear you out?"

He wanted me to answer. He wanted to hear my voice, to drag the words from my lips just to prove he could. But my throat was too tight, my mind too tangled with exhaustion and fear to form a response.

His smile darkened. "Cat got your tongue, solnishko?" ( little sun)

His hand slid lower, resting against my stomach, possessive even in his gentleness. "One day," he murmured, almost to himself, "this will be full with my child."

The air in my lungs vanished.

I felt like I had been doused in ice water, like the room had shrunk around me, trapping me beneath the weight of those words.

A child.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but I could still feel his hand there, still feel the ownership in his touch.

"Imagine it," he continued, his tone almost dreamy, as if he were speaking of something beautiful. "You, round with my child. No more thoughts of escape, no more foolish defiance. Just you and me, building the family we were meant to have."

I felt sick.

He pressed a soft kiss to my temple, an unsettling contrast to the horror settling in my chest. "I think it will happen sooner than you expect," he whispered.

A wave of nausea rolled through me.

I couldn't let that happen.

I wouldn't let that happen.

But how could I stop it, when I belonged to a man who never let anything slip through his fingers?

I forced my breathing to stay steady, but inside, I was unraveling. He wasn't just speaking idly—when Adrik wanted something, he took it. There were no boundaries, no refusals. And now he wanted this. A child. A living, breathing bond that would chain me to him forever.

Panic threatened to claw its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down.

I felt him shift beside me, his lips brushing against my shoulder, soft, reverent, as if he wasn't the devil whispering nightmares into my ear. "You'll look beautiful pregnant," he mused. "Carrying a piece of me."

I turned my face away, my nails digging into my palms so hard it hurt. I needed the pain, needed something to keep me grounded as my world spun violently out of control.

His arm draped over my waist, locking me in place. "I know what you're thinking." His voice was smooth, smug, like he was already ten steps ahead of me. "You think you have a choice in this. You don't."

I swallowed hard.

Sighing he suddenly let out,"You must be hungry. We slept through the night," Adrik said with a small smirk, his voice carrying that dangerous amusement that always sent a chill through me.

I barely processed his words—until the next ones left his lips.

"Let's go have breakfast. Your mom will be joining us today."

The world tilted.

My heart slammed against my ribs, and before I could think, I was already scrambling out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor as I rushed toward the door.

I had to see her. I miss her.

I barely made it two steps before a strong arm caught me, slamming me back against the hard wall of his chest.

Adrik's grip was unyielding, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other hand gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice was calm, but the edge beneath it was sharp enough to cut.

"My mom—" I started, my voice barely above a whisper, but he cut me off with a quiet, mocking hum.

"You're not going anywhere," he said smoothly. "Not until you've had a proper bath."

My stomach twisted.

Not because of the bath. But because of what he wasn't saying.

If my mother was coming here, it meant one thing—he had brought her here. And Adrik never did anything without a reason.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the panic at bay. "What did you do to her?"

His smirk deepened, fingers brushing idly along my jaw. "Nothing... yet."

Terror curled in my chest, suffocating.

If I didn't do exactly as he wanted, if I even tried to warn her...

He would ruin her. Just like he had ruined me.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. I couldn't let that happen.

Adrik leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Be good for me, Joy. Get in the bath." His lips barely grazed my skin as he whispered, "Or I'll have to remind you what happens when you disobey."

I forced down the sob rising in my throat. I had no choice.

I never did.

Without another word, I let him lead me back into the room, my body moving on autopilot. Because right now, I wasn't thinking about myself.

I was thinking about my mother.

And how I was going to save her.

Joy's POV

The bathwater was scalding, but I barely felt it. My mind was somewhere else—trapped in a spiral of panic and dread.

My mother was coming.

I sat motionless in the oversized tub, my knees pulled to my chest as steam curled around me. Adrik stood nearby, leaning casually against the sink, arms crossed as he watched me with that unreadable expression.

Waiting.

Always waiting.

"You look lost in thought," he murmured after a long silence. "Care to share?"

I shook my head, staring at the water, watching the ripples shift with my trembling hands.

Adrik sighed, stepping forward, crouching beside the tub. His fingers brushed through the wet strands of my hair, pushing them behind my ear. A mockery of tenderness.

"You should be happy, solnishko," he murmured. "I brought your mother to you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

I forced my lips to stay shut, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

He chuckled. "No 'thank you'?" His fingers tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "That's rude."

I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my throat.

"Let's try again," he said, voice softer, but no less dangerous. "Aren't you happy to see your mother?"

Every instinct screamed at me to fight back, to spit in his face, to do something........................................ 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓟𝓪𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓸𝓷. Link in my bio

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