Chapter Sixteen: Marked

My heart slammed against my ribs. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Lucian didn’t respond. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

“Five,” he said calmly.

The word dropped into the room like a stone into water.

“Four.”

“Lucian—”

“Three.”

Panic flared in my chest. “I said I won’t do it!”

“Two.”

The water shifted suddenly.

Lucian moved. His hand caught the front of my dress, his fist twisted in the cloth. Then he pulled.

The fabric tore with a loud rip. Shrrrk.

The sound of tearing cloth split through the steam-filled room.

My breath hitched as the fabric shredded beneath his hand, the seam ripping open under the force. Cold air rushed against my exposed skin, sending a shock through my body.

“Let go!” I twisted violently, trying to wrench myself free.

His other hand caught my arm before I could pull away. His fingers dug into my skin.

Hard.

“Stop fighting,” Lucian said.

“You’re hurting me!”

I shoved against him, slipping in the bathwater as I tried to push away.

His grip tightened again as he steadied me. I winced sharply as his nails scraped across my shoulder when I struggled. A thin burning line followed the movement.

Shrrrk.

Another violent tear echoed through the room.

The dress shredded further, strips of soaked fabric falling uselessly into the water. My arms flew up, trying to shield myself as more of my bare skin met the heavy steam of the bath.

“You tear it faster when you resist.”

“You’re insane!”

I twisted again, trying to pull away.

His hand slid down my arm to catch my wrist.

The movement dragged his fingers across my side.

I sucked in a sharp breath as the rough scrape left a stinging line across my skin.

The final seam gave way with one last ripp.

The fabric tore apart in Lucian’s hand.

The ruined dress slid from my body and dropped into the bathwater in shredded pieces.

Leaving me completely naked.

My chest heaved as I tried to steady my breathing. The water lapped quietly around us.

For some time neither of us moved.

Then his voice came again.

“Was that truly so difficult?”

I didn’t answer.

My arms stayed crossed over my chest, covering my exposed boobs. My back pressed against the cold stone edge of the bath.

Lucian slid closer. The water shifted around his legs as he moved. Soft waves brushed against my inner thighs.

He stopped right in front of me. I could feel the heat of his body.

My breath came faster.

His hand lifted slowly. Then his fingers closed around my wrist and pulled my arm away from my chest.

“Stop hiding.”

My stomach tightened.

“You think modesty matters after defying me?” His grip stayed firm as his head moved closer to my face.

“You fought harder over cloth than you did when your father begged.”

I couldn’t speak. The shock and trauma of what just happened kept me mute, as tears rolled down my cheeks in hot, stinging rivers.

Lucian’s hand finally released mine. He leaned back slowly, the water lapping softly against the stone.

“Remember this feeling, Avery. Remember that there is no escape from the rules here. From me.”

He rose from the bath, water dripping from his body, I watched in silence, unable to move. His bare presence filled the room, commanding it, dominating it, even without looking.

Then, without another word, he turned, and the sound of water dripping on the floor behind him marked his exit.

I remained in the bath, trembling, chest tight, muscles sore from resisting. The shredded fabric of my dress floated around me, useless, discarded.

Carefully, I lifted myself from the bath. Cold air kissed my wet skin. I wrapped a towel around my body, pressing it against the burns and scratches that now marked me.

My hands lingered over the stinging lines along my arms and shoulders, where his fingers had dug into me.

Alone in the bathing room, I sank to the floor, pressed against the cold wall. My body ached, my pride wounded even more than my skin.

I hugged my knees to my chest, the towel slipping slightly with every shiver. My body felt alien, aching in ways I hadn’t known it could.

I pressed my hands against the stinging marks, trying to soothe the heat, though it was futile.

I wanted to cry, but the tears had already run down my cheeks. “I… I have to get out of here,” I whispered to no one, voice barely audible even to me.

I forced myself to stand, legs trembling beneath the chill, and moved toward the doorway. The hallway outside was dim and quiet.

I reached my room at last, wrapping the towel more securely around my body. My hands traced the marks along my arms, some already beginning to bruise.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, head in my hands. My thoughts raced, spiraling around him, around what had just happened. My wolf hadn’t fully formed, and without that strength, the marks he left behind would not fade anytime soon.

The sound of soft footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. My chest tightened. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Are you okay?”

The voice was gentle, warm, and unfamiliar in this cold, harsh world of Lucian.

I looked up slowly. Lena stood in the doorway, eyes wide, taking in the state I was in.

“I… I can help,” she whispered, almost shyly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Slowly, almost hesitantly, I nodded.

Lena moved closer, kneeling in front of me. She produced a small pouch of ointment and began gently rubbing it on the scraped lines along my arms.

“You’re… still trembling,” Lena frowned as she kept applying the ointment.

"My brother is such a fool," she muttered, almost to herself. "A complete villainous wretch.”

I froze. My hands gripping the towel tightened. “Wait… your brother?”

Lena gave a small, wry smile, her eyes softening slightly. “Yes. He’s been a tyrant ever since he lost his sight.”