The DON's Princess
The man was unmoved—he was a monster wearing a man’s skin.
He returned, a small pill in his hand. “This’ll make it easier for you,” he said, his voice disturbingly calm. He bent over me, bringing his face inches from mine. I snapped my mouth shut, shaking my head furiously.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he hissed, gripping my face with his rough, spike-like hands. His fingers dug into my cheeks as he forced my mouth open. “This is me being nice.”
I struggled, trying to thrash my head away, but his strength was overwhelming. The pill landed on my tongue, and before I could spit it out, he grabbed a bottle of water and poured it down my throat, leaving me no choice but to swall