Just me

JULIETTE

My door opened minutes later, and I cocked my head, expecting to see Lilian. Hopefully, she was here to help get this dress off me.

However, to my disappointment and somewhat relief, Darius walked in. His presence filled the room with a heavy authority that clung to him like a second skin, making the hair on my neck stand.

His gaze settled on me, tracing every inch of my body as he strolled fully into the room, something flickered in his eyes. Admiration, desire, or possession. I wasn't sure, but I caught his lips twitch, no smile no smirk, just a stupid twitch.

“Just as I predicted,” he muttered, his tone rough around the edge.

I spun fully to face him, raising my chin. “Predicted?” I snapped, grabbing the dress in my hand, “This is what you do the moment you return, play dress up with your little pet.”

Darius narrowed his gaze,” What are you talking about?” He asked, pretending to be oblivious of the games he keeps playing.

“You know exactly what I am talking about,” I replied clenching my fist.

He stepped closer, “Yes, I do What I do not understand is why it bothered you so much.” He revealed in an amused tone.

I scoffed, “I am not bothered about a thing. I wasn't bothered when you disappeared without informing me, nor am I bothered by your cruel actions towards me after five days apart.” I gritted out, biting my lips hard until the metallic taste of blood settled on my tongue.

“So in lesser words, you missed me,” Darius said and my eyes darted, bewilderment clouding my thoughts, as I attempted to fathom his words.

“ I would rather miss my father, than a monster like you. So don't think so highly of yourself.”

“You claim to be burning in rage, yet you are still clad in the dress. You refuse to admit that you love and want it. That makes you feel different, like a woman with power.”

My pulse raced, lips trembling. “It doesn't, because it's nothing but a dress…”

“A dress for a queen.” Darius stopped me mid-sentence.

“I am not your queen.” I gritted out, my fingers curling around the fabric, “I will prove it to you.” I said and yanked at it, trying to rip it apart, to destroy that crazy notion of a simple dress making me a queen.

But before the fabric could tear apart, strong fingers seized my wrist.

“Don’t,” his voice cut through my thoughts, commanding.

“Let go of me.” I struggled, twisting my wrist to evade his grip, but it only tightened firmly, but not painfully.

“You will wear it,” he said quietly, “in two weeks, when the pack's annual ball takes place, you will tag along with me in this particular dress, with or without your approval.”

My breath turned shaky. “And if I refuse? What would you do?”

He loosened his grip on me and I snatched my hand, hiding it behind me as he moved closer, leaving no space between us. Voice dropping into a whisper “Then I will dress you myself,” he murmured, “each piece of fabric you have, I will put on you, until I find the right one, and I don't care how long it would take.”

His words hit me like a promise posing as a threat. My throat went dry instantly.

Heat crawled beneath my chest, rising to my face, as I foolishly imagined his hands on me, undoing and replacing a dress, after dress.

I hated the feeling that enveloped me, hated how I lost my reasoning for a few seconds, and wasted that precious time thinking of him.

“You are a coward,” I spat, my blank head still reeling from the sick thoughts and images I let myself process.

Darius tilted his head, resting his lips so dangerously close to my ear. “Say that again.”His warm breath brushed my skin.

I forced my voice to play out hard and bold, “Coward.”

He burst out laughing, taking a step back, his cackling was the only thing that filled the room for a good while.

When he finally stopped, he smiled and said, “You never cease to amaze me, Juliette. Sometimes I wonder if you truly exist, or if it's just the illusions from my imagination.”

“You torment me each chance you get. This isn't about being amusing; nothing about being caged is funny,” I snapped.

“Yes, you are right,” he said softly, “Your situation isn't funny, little pet, you are,” he revealed to my disappointment.

“How exactly do you mean?”

“Tsk tsk tsk…” Darius clicked his tongue. “That should be the least of your worries Juliette.” He pointed behind me, and I tilted my head, following the direction of his hand.

Three of the books he had earlier gifted me to study lay by my bed; from their position, it looked as though I had discarded them, whereas I kept them for easy reach.

“Put your focus on that and stop trying to get into my head, Juliette. As I once said, I am not that predictable. This is an advice I reckon you follow.”

“Why?” I countered, “Why should your slave be focused on books about leadership and diplomacy? I still am your prisoner, the one you so continuously chain and pull around.”

“Not for long.” He murmured and my breath caught in my throat.

“What…”

“No late-night reading, lessons continue tomorrow.” He redirected the focus and turned towards the door, disappearing behind it.

I crashed on my bed, staring at the ceiling while I calmed my mind, shutting out every thought that had to do with Dairus, especially the conversation we just had.

I wished I had more distractions than a pair of books, or someone to offload everything I was going through. Ria and Stacy aren't the best option, they may be good companions and friends, but I don't trust them enough to share Darius's emotional torture. It was just me.