CHAPTER TWENTY The Monster
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Monster
Some men kill with guns, others with words. But the deadliest of them all? Killing with silence.
Zagreus was one of them.
The room pulsed with heavy and unbearably quiet, thick spaces between heartbeats. A pause before the devastation. I should’ve feared his anger. But that didn’t come, and that was my death sentence.
I tried to push past the suffocating weight of it, twisting and writhing, struggling against his hold, but it was like fighting chains forged in hell.
His body remained still, letting me exhaust myself purposely like a trapped little bird slamming against its cage.
I fought until my muscles screamed, until my lungs burned and until the tears pricked my eyes in a humiliating display of weakness.
And then, when I had nothing left when my body betrayed me, he slowly moved his fingers, unclasping from my wrists and deliberately finding my throat.
My breath hitched, and I looked at him wide-eyed.
His grip wasn’t fatally choking, but it was enough to send a wave of fear coursing through my veins.
“You can scream,” Zagreus murmured, his tempestuous eyes flickering between cold grey and obsidian black as he tilted his head.
“Curse it, whisper it in fear.” His thumb pressed against my cheek, dragging a lone tear with him, and his grin widened.
“But it will be the last name you ever know as your master.”
My chest constricted, air catching in my burning lungs.
No. No, no, no…
“You came to me willingly,” he continued, tracing my jawline, burning my skin in unholy brand, “offering yourself as my sacrifice.”
A cruel smirk tugged his lips as I sucked in a shaky breath. “And now you’re backing out?”
The world was a cruel place, but some men were crueller still.
Zagreus Vitale was not a man. He was a god carved from violence, his divinity built on the bones of those who dared to defy him.
And I wondered if I’d join those dead too.
By the look on his eyes, I knew I would.
The grey had turned into sharp silver. And I couldn’t even breathe properly.
When his hand flexed on my throat, my vision blurred. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, hot and shameful. A song my mother once sang drifted through my mind; the haunting melody and cruel irony startled me. I didn’t know the meaning then, but now I was reminiscing about it.
Even the storm bends to love, but love has never bent for me.
Because this wasn’t love, it wasn’t devotion even. It wasn’t passion. It was destruction in its cruelest form.
The way his eyes gleamed mischievously made me realise I was a lost cause from the start. He wouldn’t stop, even if he had to force me.
“I stopped last time,” he murmured, his fingers tracing my sternum, lingering over my racing heart. “Not because I had to. Because I wanted you awake for this.”
His hand slid lower. My breath caught. His stormy grey eyes darkened with something… cruelly patient.
“I want you to feel everything, Dolcezza. To know it’s me. To know you belong to me.”
A choked sob escaped me. He caught it… held it.
“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed mockingly, his thumb wiping a tear from my cheek. “I hate seeing you cry, Dolcezza. But I love knowing I’m the reason for it.”
He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. For the briefest moment, his thumb hovered. A flicker of something almost gentle. But then it was gone. He smirked, the moment shattered, and his grasp became ironclad. “I think I’ll make you cry more.”
His hand slowly drifted lower until he was close to my forbidden part. And I couldn’t even fight. He was not only my captor, he was my grave. And this marriage? A coffin nailed shut.
My lips wobbled and I shut my eyes, letting his words sink into my broken heart. “You’re awake, little wife. Shall we continue?”
By the time I realised what he meant, he reached a hand out as he pulled down the sheets covering my lower body. The sudden, frightening struggle and hoarse crying filled the air, and I realised I was on the verge of panicking. “Don’t…! Please… don’t!”
Knowing my pleas wouldn’t work, I wanted him to stop.
I wasn’t ready, but he didn’t listen. Instead, he pulled me to him by my throat, crashing his mouth on mine, devouring my struggles and crying.
For some reason, I felt his warmth far more compelling than his coldness.
My fingers tightly gripped his biceps, as strong and muscular as the rest of his body, and I took a deep breath in and stammered into the kiss.
“Adrian…” He stilled against me, and I felt his fury instantly.
I knew he didn’t like to hear the name of another man when he was going to devour me, but I had to do this.
Before he could do something worse, I quickly breathed out, looking at him with expectant and pleading eyes. “Let me… see him.”
“He’s dead,” he said monotonously. I could already tell he was pissed.
I swallowed the grief that came with the realisation. “I know… I want to know if he’s properly buried.”
“He is,” he muttered, and I felt relieved. At least Adrian got a proper burial. I couldn’t imagine him in that cold apartment. Did his parents find him? Or someone else? Did they know I was also missing? Did someone report me?
Icy touch clenched around my throat. “Is this your way of making me mad, Dolcezza?”
“No…” I exhaled shakily, forcing steel into my voice even as my body trembled beneath him. “Do whatever you want, like you said. But you want me to be yours, don’t you?”
His eyes narrowed. A flicker of something—curiosity, suspicion—passed through them.
“You think I’m obligated to hear your tantrums?” he mused, but I heard it—the shift in his tone, the momentary pause. I had his attention.
I swallowed, gripping onto that sliver of control. “If you want to break me, do it. But you don’t just want my body. You want all of me, don’t you?”
His grip on my throat tightened reflexively, a warning. But I saw the faint tick in his jaw, the flicker of amusement tainted with something else.
“I’m not expecting any gentleness from a monster like you either.”
His jaw ticked, and he scoffed.
“Very well then.” His rough, big hand landed on my thighs, and I sucked in a sharp breath before I was roughly shoved down. “Spread your legs. Show me how badly you want to see your dead lover.”
I glared at him, shame and humiliation coursing through my veins. I wasn't strong enough to fight him.
So, I did the only thing I could to survive. I swallowed my pride, forced my shaking limbs to obey, and parted my thighs.
Once this was all over, I’d show him hell. There was no way I could leave this place on my own. Once I was outside, I’d make a run for it.
I slowly opened my legs, averting my eyes from his sinful face to look at anything but him. “Eyes on me, Dolcezza.”
I gritted my teeth and lifted my eyes to him. He was towering over me, pumping his enraged manhood in his palm and biting down on his lips. His eyes focused on me, or my eyes, I could say. He hadn’t made any move to touch me, but I knew this relief was short-lived.
He grinned when I spread my legs as wide as I could, exposing myself to his hungry eyes, which only darkened by the second. “Fuck, here you are, dripping wet. Spread your cunt for me, little wife.”