Armin scrambled back, fleeing into the bedroom.
Valerius followed him, his steps slow, quiet, and calculating—like a tiger stalking its prey.
“Stay back!” Armin screamed, but Valerius seemed completely deaf to his voice.
Armin dashed toward the door and grabbed the knob, but the lock fought back.
He yanked at the handle, shaking and turning it furiously, but it refused to budge.
Turning his head to look back, he found Valerius standing right in front of him in a flash.
The superhuman speed caught Armin completely off guard.
He shrieked, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor, his skin slick with cold sweat.
Valerius loomed over him, a dark, dangerous smile cutting across his pale face.
Armin threw his hands up, shielding his head.
“Running away?” Valerius’ voice was ice-cold.
Armin curled tighter into himself.
“You can’t run away from me. Nobody can.”
With a low howl, Valerius wrapped a single, powerful hand around Armin’s neck and flung him carelessly onto the bed.
Armin cried out in pain, immediately clutching his fractured ribs.
“Valerius, stop!” he cried louder, but Valerius was already pinning him down against the sheets.
“You smell so… appetizing.” Valerius buried his face in Armin’s neck, nuzzling him aggressively.
Armin’s lips trembled as he lay frozen beneath him.
The sweet, thick scent of his own orange blossom pheromones had entirely flooded the room.
He remembered Valerius warning him about how easily tempted he was by his scent, but Armin couldn’t tuck his pheromones away no matter how hard he tried.
He pushed against Valerius’s chest, but it was like shoving a brick wall.
Valerius’s heavy arms trapped him on either side of his head.
“Valerius, not again, please…”
“You are mine, Armin.” Valerius trailed a clawed hand down Armin’s cheek before running his tongue up his neck.
He suckled harshly over the soft skin, leaving deep, purple marks directly over his scent gland.
Armin shivered violently at the touch, but terror kept his mind sharp.
“Valerius, you are scaring me!”
“Why are you scared?” Valerius murmured against his skin.
“You are hurting me.”
Valerius suddenly pulled back.
He was used to people fearing his monstrous form, but usually because of how he looked, not because he was actively harming them.
“You promised you’d take care of me,” Armin whispered through his tears, shaking like a leaf.
“You said we would go shopping today. Remember?”
“Did I?” Valerius peered into Armin’s face.
Armin shivered at the hollow, haunting depth of his pitch-black eyes.
“Close your eyes,” Valerius whispered.
Armin obeyed, whimpering when he felt Valerius rest his forehead gently against his own.
“You think I’m going to hurt you just because I look like this?” Valerius snarled, pulling away.
Armin nodded, eyes shut tight in fear, his bare chest heaving with every ragged, panting breath.
“That little faith in me, baby?” Valerius murmured disappointedly.
He caught Armin’s bottom lip between his teeth, grazing the sensitive skin with his sharp canines.
Armin sniffled in fear, his tongue instinctively flicking out to soothe the bite when Valerius finally let go.
“N-No,” he choked out.
“You are scared. You are scared of me.” Valerius stepped down from the bed and walked back into the closet.
Armin let out a massive, shuddering sigh of relief.
When Valerius emerged a moment later, he looked completely normal again.
His skin was tanned, his eyes were a mesmerizing hazel, and his dark hair was styled back into a modern undercut.
Walking to the nightstand, he placed a single pair of folded black briefs on the surface.
Without sharing a single glance or word with Armin, he walked to the door and opened it with effortless ease—the very same door Armin had just been fighting with.
“Valerius…” Armin called out.
Valerius paused in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around.
“Where are you going?”
No answer.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” Armin pressed.
“No,” Valerius answered simply.
He walked out, closing the door behind him.
His countenance was entirely calm, his voice incredibly soft.
It deeply confused Armin how a man could look so at ease right after almost giving him a heart attack.
Armin quickly dressed, pulling on the underwear, cargo jeans, and crop top, before limping out of the room to search for him.
His body throbbed with pain from being tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll.
He found Valerius down in the conversation pit, sitting with his legs crossed and his head resting against the back of the sofa, staring blankly into the roaring fireplace.
Armin walked closer, noticing a glass of dark whiskey and ice cradled in his hand.
“I want to be left alone,” Valerius said, without turning his head.
“How did you know I was here?” Armin asked, ignoring the request.
Valerius looked up at him.
“I always know.”
The quiet response made Armin’s stomach churn with an unexplainable unease.
He stepped down into the pit, sat next to him, and pulled the glass from Valerius’s hand.
Taking a sharp sip of the liquor, Armin’s face instantly contorted.
He groaned loudly and stuck his tongue out in disgust.
A ghost of a smile touched Valerius’ lips at the hilarious reaction.
Armin smiled back, but Valerius quickly darted his eyes away.
“I’m hurting, Valerius. You threw me on the bed.” Armin pouted his lips, leaning into a whine.
“I’ve called the doctor. He will be here soon,” Valerius replied, taking his drink back and rising to walk away.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Armin stood up too, ignoring the ache in his ribs.
“Isn’t it what you want? You said you are scared of me.”
“Are you stupid, Rius?” Armin blurted out before he could stop his own tongue.
Valerius snapped his head back, his hazel eyes flashing with a dangerous, predatory glint.
“What did you just say to me?”
Armin’s eyes went wide as his hands flew over his mouth.
Valerius walked back, towering over him.
He firmly pulled Armin’s hands away from his face, gripping his chin with his fingers to force his head up.
Armin tried to look away.
“No, no. Eyes on me,” Valerius tutted.
Armin whimpered, forced to lock eyes with him.
“Good boy… now listen well. Don’t you ever—emphasis on ever—disrespect me again, or I will hold you down and whip you until you learn to be good. Is that clear enough?”
“Yes.” the words slipped out of Armin’s mouth automatically.
His pupils physically dilated, his lips parting as a broken whine escaped his throat.
“Go to your room.
Armin nodded blindly.
“Okay.”
“Good… Now!” Valerius added.
Armin immediately scrambled away like a cornered mouse, letting out a quiet sob.
By the time he hit the staircase leading back to the bedroom, he was crying out loud.
He slammed the bedroom door and slumped against the edge of the bed, weeping hysterically.
He kept looking up at the door, hoping Valerius would walk in, consumed by worry, ready to comfort him and wipe away his tears with sweet words.
But after more than thirty minutes of crying, reality set in.
Nobody was coming.
He laid back, his mind racing as he tried to piece the puzzle together.
The wardrobe filled entirely with black clothes, the haunting photograph.
The pale, chalky skin.
The fangs, the claws, and that beautiful, long, silky hair that smelled of sea salt and lavender—a scent so intoxicating he had almost wanted to bury his nose in it despite his terror.
Then his mind flashed back to the day Valerius had ordered him to be held down while he whipped him with his belt.
As his eyelids fluttered with exhaustion, he found himself thinking of Alicia.
The princess with the keys.
He couldn’t say he missed her, but he could swear that being with her was a much safer bet for someone who wanted to live a long life.
She was predictable.
She didn’t crave biting into people’s necks or shifting into terrifying creatures.
Armin woke up to the low murmur of two men talking.
Squinting against the light, he immediately recognized the male nurse from the hospital.
Was he the doctor Valerius had called?
But he was a nurse…
Is that how Valerius tracked me down at the hospital? he realized.
As the two men talked, they began walking out of the bedroom.
Armin slipped out of bed immediately, quietly trailing behind them.
He overheard scraps of their conversation, catching words like ruts and cycles, but he couldn’t quite put the pieces together.
They walked down and sat in the conversation pit.
Armin peered out the massive glass doors and spotted a Honda CR-V parked in the driveway.
“Nice ride,” he mumbled under his breath.
Back when he was a mechanic, he had always dreamed of owning a car like that.
Now, his life was such a complete mess he didn’t even know if he had dreams anymore.
Well, not anymore, he thought, a sudden spark of determination flaring in his chest.
Moving like a shadow, he tiptoed past the conversation pit and the sitting room, slipping out the side door.
He approached the Honda, silently popped the trunk, slid his body inside, and clicked it shut without making a single sound.
He knew the car belonged to the doctor; Valerius would rather be caught dead than drive a modest vehicle like this.
He was right.
A moment later, Armin beamed in the darkness of the trunk as he heard the engine roar to life.
The car began to roll, driving away from the towering estate.
Away from Valerius and his beautifully decorated, ridiculously fancy prison..
He let out a long, heavy sigh of relief.
Armin has ruined our plans to learn about gold digging, lol!
But whose fault do you think it is— Valerius with secrets or Armin with impulse?
Let’s sit tight as we continue on the ride together.
Thank you all for still being here and for all your support.
Xoxo!