Chapter 5

CALYX'S POV 

Days run by in an endless, suffocating silence. I've lost track of time in this luxurious prison. 

There are no windows to see the sun rise and fall. The only things that remind me time is passing are my own steady breaths, and him. Iskander. He's always here, watching me, but he never touches me.

He doesn't touch me or try to control me with some twisted ritual. But he's always watching me. 

Every evening, he slips into my room like a shadow, his presence quiet and unsettling. 

He doesn't say a word or try to get closer to me. He just stares at me with those piercing golden eyes, his face expressionless.

I should feel relieved that Iskander hasn't touched me. But the way he looks at me makes my skin crawl. It's not lust or anger; it's contempt. That realization burns deep inside me, and I don't understand why. Is this some kind of mind trick? 

A way to break me without even touching me? The chains, the fancy clothes, and this luxurious prison are all suffocating me, but nothing is worse than the weight of his silence.

Tonight is different. I can feel it the moment he walks in. The air is thick with tension, making my skin prickle. 

I tense up as he approaches me, stopping right at the edge of the bed where I'm still chained. 

He's too close, making my heart race. But I refuse to back down, keeping my eyes locked on his.

Iskander finally speaks, his words cutting deep into my chest. "You're not strong enough to carry my heir." I expected him to be cruel, to hurt me, to be angry or violent. 

But this is different. This is rejection. 

I feel like I've been punched in the gut. My fingers curl into the silk sheets, my nails digging into my palms. I want to laugh, scream, and kill him all at once.

I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to control my emotions then, I speak up. “Then set me free” 

Seemingly amused by my words, his lips twist into a dark, mischievous smirk. 

“Never” 

His reply was brief, but commanding as it leaves no room for any argument. I feel sick to my stomach, my confusion piquing. 

I couldn't understand what this mental devil is up to, first he claimed me, tied me down to a ritual and now….he deems me unworthy to carry his heir? 

Thinking of this; the way he has robbed me of my freedom, something within me snaps. 

“You bastard!” I snarled, anger blazing in my eyes. “First you bought me, chained me like a damned criminal, now…now you…” my voice falters for a brief moment, but then I continue. “You marked me through a ritual! And now you stand here like a fucking jerk, saying I'm not worthy enough?!” 

Regardless of my sudden emotional outburst, his expression doesn't falter a bit. 

“Let me rephrase my words, little runt…” just before he can complete his sentence, I cut him off. 

A bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Just let me go” 

Flashing a deadly expression, a soft sigh escapes his lips, as though he's exhausted from my outbursts. “When I brought you here, I thought your body could withstand the burden. But turns out I'm wrong” 

My lips tremble in anger, my heart clenching tightly. “You…” 

“That is not a compliment” he cuts me off, his voice void of any form of emotions. “It's an embarrassment, it shows you're weak, pathetic! A failure” 

His heartless words echoes in my head; a failure? A great insult to me, adding more salt to my injury. 

I shouldn't care what he thinks about me, infact, I should be happy I'm not wrapped up in his deadly, messed up game of carrying his heir but for some reasons, I do. 

An emotion deep in my chest twisted, laced tight with something I refused to name.

I hated him so much.

I hated how he makes me feel, the fact that he's robbed me of my freedom to think or do anything. And I hated that I am greatly affected by his rejection. 

For a moment, I'm too stunned to speak, my body growing weak. But seeing that insulting smirk on his face, anger grows within me. “Kill me” I sneered. 

His eyes flicker, just for a split second. It's a tiny shift, easy to miss. "No," he says again. "I have something else planned." I don't get a chance to ask what or prepare for whatever new pain he has in store. It just starts. The pain.

At first, I feel a slow burn spreading through my veins, like tiny flames creeping through my limbs. My breath catches. 

I try to move, but my muscles freeze, my body going stiff as the heat builds. Then the real torture starts. A scorching wave of pain tears through me, ripping a scream from my throat. 

It's like my blood is boiling, like something inside me is being ripped apart and put back together all at once.

I don't even realize I've fallen until my knees slam into the floor. The impact sends another wave of pain through my body. 

My vision blurs and my breath comes in short, ragged gasps. I try to speak, but my voice is barely a whisper. 

"W-what—" Another scream rumbles out of my chest as the pain gets worse. Iskander stands over me, his face expressionless.

“The rejection curse” he replies casually. “The magic is too intense that it doesn't break that easily” 

Without giving me time to actually process what he has said in my brain, another level of pain begins. This time around, it's even more intense than before. 

Then…I can feel it; the bond, it's breaking apart. The blood ritual he had forced on me, reversed and it was killing me slowly as it left. 

My lips tremble, another scream escaping my lips. My body gives out, unable to take the pain any longer as I suddenly slam on the ground. 

My fingers wrap around the chain, the silk robes I'm clad with soaked with sweat. 

Then, I feel it; something changing within me. It's rapid and much to my suprise, the intense, deadly pain I feel stops.n

My breathing comes hitched, my body trembling violently as though I'm convulsing. My eyeballs roll inside my head, my skin becoming hotter with each passing second. What the hell did Iskander do to me? 

I'm different now. I slowly lift my head, and my fingers twitch on the floor. When I look down, my stomach drops. My veins are glowing. A faint, eerie light pulses under my skin, like something ancient and unnatural is inside me.

Before I can process this, Iskander kneels beside me. His presence fills the room, making me feel small. He tilts his head, watching me with a new expression; satisfaction.

"Now," he whispers, his fingers brushing my jaw. "Let's see what you really are.”