All Chapters of CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

[TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of severe injury, blood, medical procedures performed without anesthesia, and intense physical/psychological trauma.]~ANYA POV~Time stops existing. I don't know how long I've been alone in the dark. It feels like minutes. It feels like years. The only way I can measure the passing of time is by the sound.Drip.Drip.Drip.My blood hits the concrete floor with a wet, rhythmic tap that echoes in the silence. It is the only sound in the world. It is louder than my breathing. Louder than the hum of the single flickering bulb that buzzes like a dying insect above my head.I am hunched over the wooden table, my forehead resting on the cool surface, slick with my own cold sweat. My right arm is stretched out, pinned down like a butterfly in a display case.The pain isn't intense anymore. It has grown.It is a living, breathing thing. It throbs in time with my heartbeat, a heavy, sickening pulse that travels from my hand up my ar

~ANYA POV~'Scritch. Scratch.'The sound is closer now.I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my face into the crook of my arm, trying to block out the world. But I can't block out the sound. And I can't ignore the smell... the old, sharp scent of rodent fur mixed with the metallic smell of the blood drying on my bandages.Something brushes against the sole of my bare foot.I kick out violently. "Get away!"The movement hurts my body. A sharp pain goes up my hurt arm, feeling hot and overwhelming. I gasp and struggle not to cry, as my sight blurs with dark spots.When the spots clear, the mouse is still there. It sits just out of reach of my kicking leg, its whiskers twitching. It looks at me with black, bead-like eyes. It isn't afraid. It knows I am trapped. It knows I am weaker than it is.Another shadow darts from the corner. Then a third.They are gathering."No," I whisper, my voice trembling uncontrollably. "Please, no."I try to move back, sliding my body on the tile. The chain make

~ANYA POV~I wake up to warmth. Real warmth. Not the feverish, sticky heat of infection, but a deep, enveloping comfort that seeps into my bones. My eyes flutter open. For a split second, my brain expects the grey concrete ceiling. It expects the buzzing bulb. It expects the smell of mold and fear.Instead, I see cream-colored silk.I am staring at a pillow. My cheek is pressed against it. The scent of cedar and expensive soap fills my nose. I freeze. The memories of last night crash into me like a tidal wave. The mice. The scream. The rescue. The shower.I am in César's bed.I try to shift, but I can't. A heavy weight is draped over my waist. I look down slowly, my heart beating against my ribs.It is César's arm.He is wrapped around me from behind, his body curled protectively…or possessively…around mine. His forearm is a solid bar of muscle across my stomach, pinning me to the mattress. His hand rests on my hip, his fingers splayed wide.I stop breathing. I am lying in the arms of

~CÉSAR POV~"I'm here," she whispers against my chest.Her voice is soft. Defeated. It is the sound of a wild thing that has finally realized the cage is stronger than its claws.I hold her there, my chin resting on the top of her head. She smells of vanilla and sandalwood...the shampoo I bought for her. She feels warm, her body molding against mine through the thin silk of the nightgown. It is a domestic scene. A husband holding his wife. A lover holding his beloved.But as I stroke her hair, untangling a small knot near the nape of her neck, my mind is not here in this warm, golden-lit bedroom.It is back in the dark.I close my eyes, and I am back in the basement two days ago.I can still see her. My little Siren, curled on the cold concrete floor, her thin arms wrapped around herself, her whole body shaking like something small caught in a storm. I remember the moment I stepped inside that cell. Her face had lifted, smeared with dirt and tears, and the sound that tore out of her c

~ANYA POV~I jolt awake.I don't remember falling asleep. One second, I was sitting on the window seat, whispering promises to the empty air, and the next, I was drowning in a black, suffocating slumber.I gasp, sitting up violently in the center of the massive bed. My heart is beating a desperate, broken beat against my ribs, loud enough to echo in the silent room. I am disoriented. For a heartbeat, my brain expects the damp cold of the dungeon. It expects the scurrying sound of rats and the smell of bleach.But the air here is cool and scented with lavender. The sheets tangled around my legs are made of Egyptian cotton, smooth as water.I am in the tower. I am in the gilded cage.Breathe, Anya. Breathe.I try to calm the roaring chaos in my chest, but my mind is a racetrack, accelerating with every second. The silence of this beautiful, expensive room screams at me louder than the darkness ever did.I can think clearly now. The fog of exhaustion and fever has lifted enough for me to