Hate? What pathetic lie is that?
How could I hate the one who rips pleasure out of my bones? Who unbuilds me with nothing but hunger? Who turns my body into a prayer and my mind into an altar of worship for him and him alone?
Why in all the hells would I stop him?
I want him. I want him to take me apart. I want him to claim every unholy inch of me. I want to burn for him. I want to kneel for him like Danika did. I want to crawl to him and plead for his hands to strike me or bruise me.
Six. Seven. Eight.
My cries soar high, rebounding off the walls and returning to me in beautiful ricochets. "Oh gods," I cry. "Oh gods."
Nine. Ten.
The world narrows to one hot, bright point and my climax detonates, cresting even higher as it pulses out of me in wet trickles that run down my thighs and then spurts.
And then, he is gone.
The absence is immediate, taking the haze that had filled my mind with it, as if someone has thrown open a window in a smoky room. Clarity hits me like a hammer, cracking me open.
The first thing I see is his chin, slick with cum. The second is the memory of the last minute. Of lips. Of teeth. Of the words that left my lips. Of how my body betrayed my vows to Ceaser. His face hangs in the back of my mind and I feel the splinter in my heart, my very broken soul, that I have become a traitor of the worst kind.
I want to crawl in a hole and die.
Shame floods me, hot and choking. It burns under my skin. It scorches my ribs. It fills my throat until a sob tears free.
I bite my lower lip to keep it in but it doesn't stop the next sob, or the next.
It's like a dam is broken inside me, worse than last night, and my body trembles with the force of each ugly cry.
I feel him watch me. Through the blur of the tears, I see him rise. Feel him lean over me so close, his mouth brushes the shell of my ear. "Everything moves according to my pace, sweet Vi. And I will take my time destroying all of that pride you've got, all of that hatred, until I have you crawling after me like all of my whores do. And we both know, had I not restrained you, you would have."
I swallow a sob, trembling so hard my teeth chatter. "Why are you doing this to me?"
I feel his smile. "Because I can." He kisses my tears. Licks it. "You will think of running from me. You will run from me. It is important to note that I will catch you. And you will wish you hadn't. You will want to die. You will consider leaping off the balcony. You will consider poison. You will consider drowning. I suggest poison. It'll be painless that way. And when you do it, I will find you in time. I will feed you my blood. Bring you back from death, and you will spend your eternity trapped with me." He grins. "We're going to have so much fun, you and I."
He doesn't loosen the restraints. By the time he reaches the door, it's unlocked.
I barely notice the guard enter the room and cut me free of the straps. Or when he drapes his coat over my shoulder. I curl into myself on the edge of the bed, shivering violently.
"Can I..." Constantine pauses. "Can I get you anything, Your Highness?"
I meet his brown gaze. "Get me out of here."
His eyes shutter. "I'm afraid I can't do that--"
"Then get out." The words leave my lips harshly and I know it is unfair to take out my frustration on him. But knowing he'll report everything he heard back to my father, who will in turn do nothing for me because I'm the daughter he can discard hurts.
His footsteps fade, and the silence crashes down on me. For a long time I just sit there, staring at the balcony doors, imagining every way I could end this. A fall. A jump. A quick, final escape.
But the longer I stare, the more one thought twists through the panic.
Why do I have to die?
Why does it always have to be me who breaks? Me who pays? Even if Ceaser hadn't chosen me, someone else would've. My father would've traded me off eventually. My whole life has been orders, rules, sacrifices.
Be good. Be quiet. Be useful. Be our political bridge. Be our shield.
For the race.
For the greater good.
For everyone except me.
I press a shaking hand to my mouth. Ceaser is gone. Dead. Whatever he was--good, bad, selfish--he's not here anymore. And if he ever cared at all beside using me as some form of conquest, he would have wanted one simple thing:
For me to live.
Killing myself won't honor him. Hating myself won't fix anything. Running will only make Ruin chase me, torture me, drag me back. He said as much. And the worst part is… I believe him.
I'm not winning that fight.
So I need another weapon.
Slow, cold clarity spreads through my chest. It hurts. It feels wrong. It feels like betrayal. But it's the only thing that makes sense.
If I can't escape him, then I have to change him. If he wants to break me, then I have to make him need me instead.
I wipe the tears off my face with the back of my hand.
I'm going to survive. I'm going to take back my life, my choice, piece by piece if I have to.
And to do that?
I'm going to make Prince Ruin fall in love with me.
Really, I should've known better.