Chapter 3

Eli’s world had vanished.

The darkness was absolute no faint glow from the city skyline through the windows, no sliver of light beneath a door, nothing. It pressed against his eyes like a living thing, thick and suffocating. His chest heaved as panic clawed its way up his throat, raw and primal. The zip ties around his wrists dug painfully into his skin as he twisted, trying to find some orientation, some escape from the void.

“Cove!” His voice cracked, echoing strangely in the vast penthouse. “Turn the fucking lights on!”

Only silence answered at first. Then came the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps. They moved with predatory patience first to his left, then behind him, then vanishing completely. Eli spun toward the last place he’d heard them, his bare feet sliding on the cool marble. Without sight, every sound was amplified: the frantic thud of his own heartbeat, the ragged pull of his breathing, the faint rustle of his torn hoodie.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Cove’s voice slid through the dark like smoke, low and controlled. It came from somewhere in front of him now. “Breathe through it. Or don’t. Your fear tastes better when it’s raw.”

Eli flinched at the sound. “This isn’t funny, you sick bastard. I I can’t ”

“Can’t what?” Cove interrupted smoothly. Closer now. The voice seemed to wrap around him. “Can’t see? Can’t run? Can’t hide from me?”

A hand brushed Eli’s shoulder light, almost ghostly. Eli jerked violently, a strangled sound escaping his lips as he stumbled sideways. The contact was gone as quickly as it had come, leaving a trail of fire on his skin despite the chill in the air.

“Don’t touch me!”

“But I already am,” Cove murmured. His voice had shifted again, now to Eli’s right. “And I will touch you whenever I want, Eli. However I want.”

Eli’s mind reeled. He pressed his back against the wall, using the solid surface to ground himself. The darkness made everything worse every shift in the air felt like a threat, every sound a potential attack. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his spine. His childhood nightmares roared back to life: the locked closet, Marco’s mocking laughter, the endless black that had once made him scream until his throat bled.

“Please…” The word slipped out before he could stop it. He hated himself for it instantly.

A low, approving hum vibrated through the darkness. “There it is. The first crack.” Cove’s voice was velvet and steel. “You’re going to learn very quickly that begging sounds beautiful coming from you.”

Eli tried to track the movement, but Cove was too good at this. The man moved like he owned the shadows themselves. Another touch this time fingers trailing lightly down Eli’s left arm from shoulder to elbow. The contact was possessive, unhurried, mapping him like territory to be claimed. Eli shuddered hard, his body betraying him with a full-body flinch.

“Stop,” he whispered.

“No.” The single word was calm. Final.

The fingers returned, bolder now, sliding across Eli’s collarbone, tracing the rapid pulse at the base of his throat. Cove’s touch was warm, strong, and terrifyingly precise. It lingered over the fluttering heartbeat, as if savoring the proof of Eli’s terror.

“You feel that?” Cove whispered, voice closer. “Your body already knows who it belongs to.”

Eli’s breath hitched. He tried to twist away, but the wall at his back and the zip ties at his wrists left him nowhere to go. When he moved, Cove simply followed, the broad heat of his body now inches away. Eli could feel the man’s presence like a physical weight tall, powerful, radiating controlled dominance.

A large hand settled on Eli’s waist, fingers splaying possessively over the thin fabric of his hoodie. The grip tightened, pulling Eli forward slightly until their bodies brushed. Chest to chest. The contact sent a jolt through Eli that had nothing to do with fear alone. Shame burned hot in his cheeks.

“Get your hands off me,” Eli growled, but the words lacked the fire he wanted. They came out shaky, breathless.

Cove’s other hand came up, cupping the side of Eli’s face. His thumb brushed over Eli’s lower lip, pressing just enough to part it. “Such a pretty mouth. And yet it keeps saying things that will only get you in deeper trouble.”

Eli’s heart hammered wildly. In the total darkness, every sensation was magnified the rough pad of Cove’s thumb, the heat of his palm, the subtle scent of his cologne wrapping around Eli like invisible chains. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Cove’s chest against his own, so much calmer than his own frantic breathing.

Cove’s fingers slid into Eli’s messy curls, gripping just tight enough to tilt his head back, exposing his throat. Eli’s pulse jumped under the vulnerable skin.

“You’re mine until the debt is paid,” Cove continued, voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. “Not just as leverage. Not just as revenge. You’re mine to keep. Mine to break. Mine to reshape.” His fingers tightened in Eli’s hair. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

Eli tried to pull away, but the grip held him firm. A soft, humiliating whimper escaped him as Cove’s free hand moved lower, sliding under the hem of his hoodie to press flat against his bare stomach. The skin-on-skin contact was electric terrifying and intimate all at once. Cove’s palm was hot, fingers spread wide as if claiming every inch.

“Fuck… stop…” Eli’s voice was barely audible.

Cove leaned in. Eli could feel the shift in the air, the way the man’s broad shoulders blocked what little sense of space remained. Lips brushed the shell of Eli’s ear, sending sparks racing down his spine.

“Your brother handed you over like you were nothing,” Cove whispered, breath warm against Eli’s skin. “But I see exactly what you are. A brilliant, defiant, beautiful little thing who’s going to learn to crave the dark… because that’s where I’ll keep you.”

Eli’s knees weakened. The combination of fear, exhaustion, and the overwhelming presence of Cove Voss was breaking something inside him. He hated it. He hated how his body responded to the low timbre of that voice, to the possessive drag of those hands.

Cove’s grip in his hair loosened slightly, only for his fingers to trail down the side of Eli’s neck, tracing the frantic heartbeat there. Then lower, across his chest, brushing over a nipple through the fabric and drawing an involuntary gasp from Eli.

“That’s it,” Cove praised softly. “Feel everything. See nothing. Only me.”

The hand on Eli’s stomach slid around to his lower back, pulling their bodies flush together. Eli could feel the hard, unyielding lines of Cove’s muscular frame the solid chest, the powerful thighs, the undeniable evidence of Cove’s arousal pressing against him. The realization sent a fresh wave of panic and unwanted heat crashing through Eli.

He was trapped. Completely. In every sense.

Cove’s mouth hovered near his ear again, then slowly deliberately trailed downward. Eli felt the man’s breath ghost over his jaw, then his throat. Warm. Steady. Controlled.

Eli’s entire body trembled violently in the darkness.

Cove’s lips brushed the sensitive skin just below his ear, breath hot and intimate as he whispered the final, damning words:

“You’re mine now.”