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Chapter 32
Last Updated:
2025-12-14 00:09:14
Latest chapter
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 44
The silence in the servant’s corridor was different now.Before, it had been the silence of invisibility. I was a ghost haunting the edges of the house, ignored and erased.Now, it was the silence of a held breath.Every time I passed a guard, the conversation stopped. Eyes followed me. Heavy. Greasy. They didn’t look at my bucket or my scrub brush anymore. They looked at my legs beneath the gray hem. They looked at my mouth.Inspecting the goods.Killian’s words hung in the air like a thick, poisonous fog. He had branded me in the foyer. He had told them I was his to play with, and now, every man in the house wondered what that play looked like.I kept my head down, hugging the wall as I carried a stack of linens to the laundry chute.My burned hand throbbed—a dull, wet ache under the dirty bandage. My stomach was a hollow pit, gnawing at itself.But it was the shame that made me stumble.I wasn’t a pr
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 43
The IV bag was empty.I lay on the bed, watching the last drop of clear fluid hesitate at the plastic nozzle before slipping down the tube and vanishing into my vein.The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the distant, rhythmic thud of boots patrolling the hallway.I felt… alive.It wasn’t a good feeling. It was a sharp, stinging awareness. The sugar and fluids had done their job. The fog in my brain had cleared, leaving behind a high-definition picture of my nightmare.My hand—the burned one—throbbed in time with my heart. My ankle, chafed by the leather cuff, burned.The door opened.Killian walked in.He brought the cold air with him. He was wearing a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the thick veins of his forearms. He looked powerful. Rested. Lethal.He didn’t look at my face. He looked at the empty bag.“Refueled,” he stated.He walked to
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 42
The fire was lit.The orange flames licked at the logs, casting a warm, dancing glow across the dark library. It was a cozy sight. A beautiful sight.But to me, it looked like a mouth opening to swallow the room.I stood up from the hearth, wiping my soot-stained hands on the dirty apron. My head felt strangely light, like it was filled with helium instead of brains. The room wasn’t just spinning; it was tilting, pitching like the deck of a ship in a storm.Bring me a drink, Killian had ordered.I took a step toward the bar cart.My foot didn’t find the floor. It found empty air.The sound of my own heartbeat was deafening—a thump-thump-thump that drowned out the crackle of the fire.Then, the sound stopped.My vision tunneled. The edges turned black, then gray, then white.I didn’t feel the impact.I didn’t feel my knees hit the rug. I didn’t feel my head crack against the corner of t
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 41
The light finally won.It pierced through my eyelids even when they were closed, a searing white lance that cooked my brain inside my skull.I didn’t know how long I had been standing. My legs were no longer part of my anatomy; they were columns of fire that had long since burned down to ash.I swayed.Keep standing. If you fall, he adds an hour.But the command didn’t reach my muscles. The connection was severed.The room tilted sideways. The white walls dissolved.I fell.I hit the concrete not with a thud, but with a bone-jarring crack. My cheek slammed against the floor.Darkness—blessed, cool darkness swarmed the edges of my vision. I let it take me. I let the floor hold me.Splash.Ice-cold water hit my face.I gasped, sputtering, inhaling liquid. I choked, my body arching in a violent reflex.I opened my eyes.Killian stood over me. He held a metal buc
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 40
The water turned off.The silence that rushed back into the bathroom was deafening, broken only by the harsh, wet gasps tearing from my throat.I sat on the tiled floor of the shower, my back pressed against the cold wall, my legs drawn up to my chest. My wet hair hung in heavy, sodden ropes around my face, dripping pink water—blood from my hand—onto my knees.Killian stood outside the glass.He watched me shiver. He didn’t offer a towel. He didn’t offer a robe.He looked at me with the cold, heavy gaze of a man who owned the air I was breathing.“Get out,” he ordered.I tried. I placed my good hand on the wall and pushed. My legs, still trembling from the shock, struggled to find purchase on the slick tiles.I slipped. My knee cracked against the floor.I stayed down, panting, staring at the drain. I couldn’t do it. My battery was empty.Killian didn’t sigh. He didn’t show irritation.
The Silence Of His Vows Chapter 39
The floor was clean.My hand was ruined.It was 9:00 AM.I had been scrubbing for an hour with my left hand, while my right hand—the one Killian had watched boil—throbbed with a pulse so violent it felt like a second heart beating in my palm.The adrenaline of the accident had faded, leaving behind a cold, clammy shock. My vision was swimming. The edges of the kitchen were turning gray.I dropped the rag into the bucket.Done.I tried to stand up.My legs didn’t work. They were jelly.I slumped against the cabinet, cradling my burned hand to my chest. The skin was white and peeling, the blisters weeping clear fluid mixed with blood. It looked like raw meat.I closed my eyes, and the questions I had been too terrified to ask finally screamed in my head.Why?What did my father do to him?Killian Alatorre. The name tasted like ash. He looked at me with such ancient hatr
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