Freedom's New Owner

***Astrid***

And god, his eyes! I stared at mesmerizing icy blue orbs that were slightly covered by strands of dark black hair. His eyes were like an endless pool that drew me into them, like they held some untold secrets behind them. I know I should look down in submission, my mind screamed at me to look down but I couldn't.

“What's your name, human?” He asked again, and I could hear the slight irritation in his tone already.

Great job, Astrid. Now you're definitely going to die.

“A-Astrid,” I managed to mutter.

“Astrid,” he repeated, quieter this time.

Then his expression hardened.

“You’ll remain in the palace,” he continued, voice turning cold and final. “But not as a guest. Not even as a servant.”

A pause.

“As my personal slave.”

The words hit me like a slap.

“You will not leave these grounds without my permission. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will answer when I call—no matter the hour.” His gaze darkened. “Your freedom is no longer yours. It belongs to me.”

My chest tightened painfully.

“Take that as your punishment for attempting to escape.”

“What?” I breathed, shaking. “What do you—”

“I did not give you permission to speak, human.”

His voice sliced through mine.

“I asked you to leave. And I despise repeating myself.”

My hands clenched, anger rising through the fear.

“What’s your reason?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. “You don’t get to just…just take everything from me and say nothing!”

“I already did.”

His tone was bored. Detached.

“I hate repeating myself.”

Something in me snapped.

“No.”

The word came out stronger than I expected.

He stilled.

Then, in a blur, he was in front of me, merely inches away from my face.

His eyes took an animalistic colour, turning pale yellow with blood red irises.

Startled, I staggered backwards, but he inches closer, invading my personal space.

I don't know what it was he was doing, but his aura was so intense that my hairs stood on end.

A feeling on vulnerability overwhelmed me, and I barely holding my feet in place. It felt, at that moment, like I was a prey, and he the predator.

“You forget your place,” he said quietly, his eyes cold and merciless.

“You are nothing but a slave, human. Your duty is to serve. All. Your. Life. And you dare to question me?”

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore, and I slumped, falling to my knees in front of him.

“W-what are you doing t-to me?”

This feeling…it was suffocating. It felt like my body wasn't mine anymore. It was being controlled, forced to submit to him.

And I hated it.

“I should turn off that light burning inside you immediately,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “but death would be mercy.”

My breath hitched.

“And I am not feeling merciful.”

His eyes returned back to normal.

“You don’t get to choose the terms of your punishment,” he continued coldly, turning away from me as if I were nothing. “You lost that right the moment you tried to run.”

I knelt there, trembling. Frightened.

“You wanted freedom?” he added, voice colder. “Now you’ll learn exactly what it means to live without it.”

A pause.

“Get out.”

And like an injured animal, I ran.

The door slammed behind me, the sound echoing down the halls as my feet carried me forward without direction. Guards turned. Servants paused. I felt their eyes on me, curious and judging, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

Not until I reached my room.

The moment the door shut, whatever strength I had left gave out. My knees hit the floor hard, the impact barely registering before the tears came. Hot, relentless, choking.

A broken sound tore from my throat.

I pressed my hand against my chest as if I could hold myself together, as if I could stop the sharp, unbearable ache spreading through me.

I had suffered before.

I had endured hunger. Isolation. Humiliation.

But this?

This was different.

This was being erased.

“What am I supposed to do now…” I whispered, my voice cracking into nothing.

His words echoed in my head.

Your freedom is no longer yours.

A fresh wave of tears blurred my vision.

No way out.

No one to turn to.

No one who cared.

Not even Ophelia.

A bitter laugh slipped through my sobs.

“So this is it?” I muttered, tightening my arms around myself. “This is my life now?”

The thought made something twist violently inside me.

For a moment, just a moment, I meant it.

It would have been easier if he had killed me.

Easier than this slow suffocation. Easier than waking up every day knowing I belonged to someone else.

My fingers curled against my arms.

No.

My breathing hitched.

No.

The word grew louder in my head, pushing against the despair.

“I don’t want this,” I whispered, shaking.

My grip tightened.

“I won’t accept this.”

The tears didn’t stop, but something else rose beneath them. Something stubborn. Something angry.

He could lock me in this palace.

He could give me orders.

He could take everything from me.

But he couldn’t make me stop wanting freedom.

“I’ll find a way…” I murmured, voice trembling but firm. “I don’t care how long it takes.”

Even if it broke me.

Even if I had to pretend.

Even if I had to wait.

I buried my face into my knees, my body still shaking with quiet sobs.

“I won’t stay like this forever…”

The room fell silent except for my uneven breathing.

And slowly, exhaustion dragged at my body, pulling me under.

But even as sleep claimed me, one thought burned quietly beneath the pain.

I wasn’t done fighting. Even if it kills me.

I'll never submit to them.