Zyren’s eyes pinned her in place, a cruel stillness in his body that made her chest tighten. He remained seated in that wide, throne-like chair—legs spread with confident leisure, one hand draped over the armrest while the other idly rubbed his jaw. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The command in his gaze was heavy enough, tightening around her ribs like invisible bindings.
Aria hesitated, then forced herself to move, knees pressing into the plush carpet. The texture was soft beneath her, almost mocking her vulnerability. Every inch she crawled brought her closer to him—and deeper into the silent threat that hung in the air. Her breath was shallow, each exhale sharp as she reached him.
With trembling hands, she reached for him. Her fingers brushed the heat of his length, her breath catching instantly in her throat. She had avoided looking at it directly until now. But up close, the reality of it stunned her—the size, the heat, the weight of it in her palm. It made her hesitate, fear tangling with dread in her stomach.
Slowly, reluctantly, she brought her mouth to him.
She began at the tip, her lips parting with visible unease. Her breath warmed the sensitive skin, and she hoped the hesitation in her touch wouldn’t anger him. He was already watching her with that unreadable expression, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. She sucked lightly—testing—trying to gauge his reaction. Her tongue circled the head gently, uncertain, and she hoped that would be enough.
His face was a mask of dissatisfaction. His chin rested in his hand, and though he didn’t speak, the air around him darkened. The disappointment in his eyes spoke volumes.
"Is this how you intend to please me?" His voice was quiet, but it carried like thunder. Disdain rippled through every word, thick with judgment.
Aria flinched as though he had struck her. Her lips faltered around him, and she instinctively backed away slightly, but stopped herself. She couldn’t pull away. Not now. Her pride burned inside her, but it was helpless against the look in his eyes—cool, expectant, merciless.
He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t move an inch—but the atmosphere grew tenser. Thicker. She could feel the pressure, could taste it on her tongue as much as she could taste him.
"No teeth," he added with clipped sharpness, the kind that left no room for negotiation.
She swallowed and adjusted, her lips softening around him, pulling back slightly to ensure her teeth didn’t graze him. Her mouth was already tired, her jaw trembling from the effort. But she couldn’t stop.
He shifted then, just slightly—but it was enough to knock the breath from her lungs. His hips rolled forward, pushing himself deeper into her mouth. She gagged suddenly, unprepared for the abrupt motion, and her hands shot out to steady herself on his thighs.
Then she felt his fingers curl around the back of her neck—firm, controlling. They tangled in her hair with a practiced ease that reminded her how much stronger he was, how utterly outmatched she was. He didn’t force her further. Not yet. But the pressure of his hand made it clear she wouldn’t be allowed to stop.
His voice was a silken knife. "If you focus on the tip... what about the rest?"
The heat in her face climbed to her scalp. She couldn’t respond. Her mouth was full. Her throat burned. But he wasn’t done.
His hand slid downward, brushing the inside of her arm, and she froze at the gentleness of the touch. It was laced with danger. Like the slow drag of claws across skin.
"What are your hands for?" he murmured, his voice deepening into something darker.
She obeyed. Shaking, she raised her hands and wrapped them around him—awkwardly at first, unsure of how much pressure to use, unsure of what rhythm he expected. She tried to stroke in sync with her mouth, mimicking the movements she’d seen in overheard whispers and hazy memories of things she wished she didn’t know.
He didn’t give her instructions. He didn’t praise or scold.
Judging. Calculating.
She adjusted her pace. Her breathing grew harsher, stuttering through her nose. Her eyes began to sting from the angle, her jaw aching from the stretch. But she kept going. She was desperate to finish—to make him finish—before he grew bored again.
"You’re going to fail at this pace," he said coolly, tilting his head as if bored with the show. His fingers shifted slightly in her hair. "And I’m going to have to punish you."
Her body tensed. The word ’punish’ echoed in her skull like a drumbeat. She didn’t want to know what that meant.
"Shall I help you?" he asked, his tone more amused now. "Would you like to sit in my lap, little flame? I could guide you properly... teach you how to please a king."
Her stomach twisted. Her eyes shot up, wide with panic.
He was toying with her.
A dark grin spread across his face—feral and slow. His fangs flashed in the low candlelight, gleaming white and sharp. She hadn’t realized until now how dangerously close his bloodlust lingered beneath the surface.
"If I need to drink from you to make you feel something..." he purred, the words crawling into her skin, "I can do that too."
He meant awakening her.
He meant forcing her body to respond—to crave. He would sink his fangs in and flood her with that strange, invasive heat that came with his bite. The thing that made her betray herself.
Aria jerked her head quickly in a frantic shake. No. She wasn’t fine. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t want that—not from him. She didn’t want him to use her body like that and make her like it.
Zyren leaned back again, still watching. Waiting.
She didn’t let him speak again.
Determined, she pushed forward—taking more of him into her mouth, forcing her throat to stretch beyond comfort. She gagged again, the reflex harsh and humiliating. But she didn’t stop.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Her jaw burned. Her lips stretched painfully. She bobbed her head, movements more frantic now, driven by panic and desperation. Her hands squeezed tighter, stroking faster. She sucked harder, hoping it was right, hoping it would be enough.
She had to make him finish. If he realized that something had changed... if he noticed that she was trembling not just from fear anymore...
He would use it. Twist it. Consume it.
"You’re learning," Zyren said suddenly, voice low and thick with amusement. "Or is your mouth just more eager than you let on?"
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. She focused harder, ignoring the heat between her legs, ignoring the ache in her jaw, sucking harder, trying to use her hands like he’d told her. Desperate to finish this.
But his voice dropped again, darker now, and it made her pulse stutter.
"You’re shaking," he said. "His words burned against her skin, hotter than his touch. She didn’t dare look up. She didn’t dare pause.
"Your scent changed." he murmured in a low voice and her heart stopped even as she felt him pull away the next second. Buttoning his pants back up regardless of the huge bulge she could still see through it.
It didn’t make her feel better when he got to his feet the very next second even as he gestured for her to also do the same.
"We’re leaving!" He told her and Aria reluctantly got up even though it was clear that it was the last thing she wanted to do. Grabbing her Cane to steady herself upright as she did.
"My sister!" Aria said trying not to touch her bruised lips since at that moment all she cared about was her sister and not even the heat that was slowly spreading through every part of her body at that very moment.
"What’s going to—" only to shut up as she felt Zyren’z heated gaze settle on her and heard him speak I with a blank expression but a tone that showed just how irked he was.
"Sure! Do you think she should come?" Zyren asked and Arianimkediaely shook her head aware that she hadn’t pleased him not knowing what he would do to punish her like he had mentioned.
Aria was glad that gee sister was safe but on the other hand her heart began to thump heavily in her chest at the thought of what was going to happen once they got back to the mansion.
Enough to make tears fill her eyes and blurry her vision. She was terrified and it wouldn’t have been so bad if not for the heat spteading through her body that made it hard to concentrate on any other thong but it.
Aria had no idea why she felt the way she did but what scared her even more was what could happen if Zyren touched her in such a state especially when she had no idea how to react.
Zyren walked quickly and Aria has no choice but to follow closely behind him with her cane but they had just entered the carriage with Zyren seated on one side and her moving to the other side about to sit when she watched Zyren stretch out his hand for her to take it but this time around Aria didn’t.
"I can use-I can use my mouth!" she pleaded even as her heart trembled within her chest, "please just give me—"
But although Zyren pulled him hand back, his gaze was still fixed on her as he spoke softly almost like he was caressing her with his voice.
"Yes! I killed your father and brother but that’s in the past!" his eyes gliding over the anger he saw spring up in her eyes as he mentioned it even as he continued speaking.
"But until your last breath Aria duskbane, you belong to me!" he said with a hint of a smile. "I’m just going to remind you of it!" he said even as the carriage continues to trudge forward and Aria’a fists gripped the seat she sat on until her hands were completely white and pale