Your eyes widen in fear. They’re taking you to his chambers.
Oh no.
The poison tooth failed you. You’re as good as dead now. About to face whatever unspeakable tortures your enemy has planned.
And now the guards put cold steel shackles on your wrists, binding them as your enemy storms out.
With your blade.
You need a weapon. Your life depends on it. They escort you down a long and twisting, dark corridor of what you think is an underground tunnel.
You pay close attention to every detail, so you can find your way out when you escape this place.
They open a door and escort you in.
It’s your enemy’s enormous private bedroom.
They leave you all alone, but your shackles are still on.
There’s a massive four-poster bed in the center, which you try ignoring.
Frantically, you spend hours searching the room for something to defend yourself.
A weapon of some kind, but there’s nothing useful here.
You sit on the bed, realizing how exhausted you are.
You wait.
And wait.
This is not what you expected, and you wish you had a backup poison tooth right now.
Don’t fall asleep.
Don’t fall asleep.
You drift to sleep and wake up with the sound of a latch.
It’s him.
“Are you comfortable in my bed, y/n?” he says in that velvety, deep voice that makes hot ribbons coil inside your center.
Suddenly, he removes his shirt, stalking toward you.
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