Hush now. You are safe.

“Gonna… change! That! Soon!” Each strained word is accompanied by a new rut into Viktor’s body, a new wave of pain and humiliation filling him up more than any food ever could. His stomach flips in on itself, sour bile climbing the back of his throat, and yet… and yet he feels a confused electric zip going from his clit into his belly; like it is crawling into his painful, burning cunt and settling into his womb.

Tears fill his eyes. This can’t be happening. He can’t be getting off on this. He turns his head to the side, little wheezing gasps eking out of his throat despite it feeling like it is being gripped by a humongous fist.

Finn pulls back again, then thrusts forward. It feels like he is attempting to saw Viktor right through the middle. Maybe he is already spearing through his belly and coming out the other side? He can’t make himself look, his arms lax at his sides despite his sympathetic nervous system screaming at him.

It becomes… better. Through the cacophony of sound that Viktor isn’t sure is just in his head or caused by the Mer in the tank, he can feel how the motions become easier and more tolerable. Just like Finn declared, he changed it, and the warm prickle in Viktor’s cunt reappears tenfold, easing up into his tender, aching pussy and settling both at his womb and his clit until tears fill his eyes because he is certain he is seconds away from coming on his rapist’s cock.

Viktor is not a particularly tall man, unlike his new husband. Finn’s cock knocks up against his cervix, each nudge making the throbbing behind his eyes that much worse until it feels like his head is going to explode, or his eyes are going to pop right out of his skull.

His abdomen feels swollen like a balloon, the sensation somehow mingling with everything else into an overload of feelings that he can not parse.

“There you go… shit… that’s the stuff…” Finn’s head is hanging low, his hair dangling down and tickling Viktor’s sternum. He stares at it and almost wants to touch, but his hands remain right where he put them after Finn’s heavy handed threat.

“Virgin cunts are the best,” Finn sighs and lifts his head again. His eyes are closed, though he looks absolutely blissful.

Viktor just stares. There are no real thoughts going around his head anymore; just him watching as Finn shifts around and gets himself more comfortable, kneeling up and pulling Viktor into his lap like he is nothing but a toy for him to play with.

It’s an uncomfortable position, his hips higher than his shoulders, but he remains quiet now that the friction and burn has settled into something much more manageable.

Maybe he really did cum. He must have gotten so excited from this that he got this wet, easing the way until he can audibly hear the slick shlk, shlk, shlk of Finn fucking him and dragging his swollen erection through his capitulating channel.

It’s not hurting anymore. Every time Finn bottoms out, an electric kind of pleasure shoots up higher into his womb. At one point it seems to overflow and instead slide down into his legs until he dazedly curls his toes.

His heart is pounding in his ears. Or maybe it is the Mer. Or maybe it is Finn’s own heart as he all but covers Viktor with his body, barely bracing himself on his forearms as he keeps him beneath his body, making his knobby spine roll as his hips are lifted even higher and he barely even pulls out anymore.

It’s just an inward motion; rutting in, in, in, kissing up to Viktor’s womb and forcing little ‘ah… ah!... ah!’s out of him as the dull ache flares up once more and becomes progressively worse. His abdomen feels sore. It’s crawling into his belly. He feels swollen and gutted at the same time. Like his core is missing.

“F-F-Finn-!” he gargles, that cotton-y nothing feeling getting replaced by a vague sense of dread and panic. “Finn-”

“Yes,” Finn gasps, hips bucking once, pressing tight and intimate against Viktor’s battered cervix, then stills completely. Blessedly. “Beg me for it,” he gasps above him. Viktor is slowly reaching up, hands trembling, arms feeling like noodles even though he’s done nothing but lie there the whole time.

He does not claw at Finn’s sweat slick skin; only grabs at him, desperate for some human connection, mouth open and panting as he fights the nausea clawing at the back of his throat.

“Pl-ease,” he gets out but is interrupted once more. He feels Finn’s cock pulsing inside is swollen passage. It seems to become even bigger.

“Beg me to breed you up. Say that you’re going to be a good girl and that you want to carry my child.”

He pulls back slowly, everything so slick and perfect, the glide soft as silk and Viktor’s insides going haywire because he can’t decide if he’s feeling pleasure or pain and it is fucking with his head. He is grabbing at Finn’s sides, trying to hold on but either Finn is too sweaty, or Viktor’s palms are because he keeps sliding right off of him.

His mouth is so dry and he has to swallow a few times before he can finally get out what he wanted to say: “Please stop.”

Finn’s eyes glint. Or maybe it is the light catching on his jaw when he jerks his head a little to the side. He seems surprised about Viktor’s plea, but eventually his lids go heavy once more and his cheeks twitch as he slowly kneels up and, to Viktor’s immense relief, pulls out.

Finally.

He inhales in relief.

“You know this will happen again, do you not?” Finn asks him in a low voice. Viktor can see his arm moving as he grabs a hold of himself and begins to masturbate.

Viktor stares up at him.

“This will happen again. Over and over. Until you become pregnant.” He seems so pleased with himself, leaning forward again, bracing himself with one hand above Viktor’s head as he strips his cock with the other, faster, more desperate, teeth gritting so his words are garbled and barely recognizable: “Until you beg me to come inside you!”

Viktor feels a hot splatter against his belly and looks down. He stares at Finn’s blood-covered cock, the mess quickly spreading across his fist, then down at his own belly when he gets marked like an animal; stripe after stripe hitting first his belly button, then his sternum, then all the way up to his throat.

He clenches his eyes shut, afraid he’ll get some in there, but it stops before that can happen. His legs twitch when Finn wipes the last few droplets against his mound before he is finally done with a deep sigh.

“There you go. Good talk.”

He just pants for a few moments, gathering his strength, then moves to get off the bed. Viktor mutely watches him cleaning himself and getting dressed again. Before he leaves, he pauses and turns, watching Viktor on the bed with an odd, solemn expression.

“I will get you some books so you can entertain yourself whenever I am not here. If you behave, you can tell me some preferences and I might follow suit.”

He drags a clean hand through his hair, making sure it sits right as it cascades down one side of his skull.

“I’ll tame you yet,” he promises Viktor in a low voice, then turns on his heel and moves out of the room completely, the sound of the key in the lock sounding incredibly loud now that there is complete silence filling the space.

Slowly, Viktor sits up. He stares down at the mess between his legs, the sheets soaked with blood, then up toward the creature that has stopped banging against the glass and is just floating there, face looking crestfallen as he presses his human hands against the barrier.

He feels like something got damaged from the rough treatment, but he can’t stop to check right now. It also makes him remember that he doesn’t have his cane with him at the moment. Finn had taken it with a press of his cold jaw to Viktor’s forehead and told him that he would get it back after the reception. It simply would ruin the pictures otherwise, yes?

He can’t believe how naive he had been. He had known how disgusting Finn was at heart and still he had believed…

Viktor’s attention snaps back to the present, back to his husband, when he feels the hot press of a fat crown dragging through his folds. He lifts his head despite himself, chin hitting his collarbones, eyes staring through the halfdark of the room as Finn drags his erection along his cunt, the swollen head appearing above the furry mound of his pubis, then disappearing again.

Every time it drags up to the apex and nudges Viktor’s clit, he feels a little jolt of excitement spearing into his belly and crawling into his womb. His knees twitch, fingers curling into loose fists as he slowly moves his elbows down toward his ribcage again.

His breath comes in fast, wet bursts. He feels like his eyes are bugging out of his skull every time Finn lets his cock slide low enough to nudge against his opening. There’s so much conflicting emotions in his body that he has trouble making heads or tails of it. On the one hand, it does feel nice whenever Finn gently touches his clit. On the other hand he wants to retch whenever he touches his hole, even if it is just the threat of putting something inside him.

THUMP

Viktor’s gaze slides past Finn’s trim waist and toward the back of the room. The Mer has his forearms pressed against the glass, his eyes huge and intense in his face, thick brows furrowed in a stormy expression of fury.

THUMP

As Viktor watches, the Mer rears back, then throws himself back against the glass; forearms and tentacles hitting it at the same time. Viktor can watch the whole pane wobble and starts to think for the first time that maybe it is not glass at all. No regular one, at the very least.

The Mer rears back for another smash against his tank, but the third heavy impact is drowned out by Viktor’s attention zeroing in on Finn the moment his crown starts to fill his clenching, dry opening.

It burns.

There is no higher brain function that Viktor employs for his reaction; it’s all his sympathetic nervous system that has his arms flail and then shoot forward, fingers curled into claws to rip and maim just to make his attacker back off again.

However.

Finn is prepared for it. He even smiles – Viktor can tell despite the metal jaw. It’s just a tic in his cheek, his dark eyes growing heavy as he peers down at Viktor while gathering his flailing arms up like they’re nothing. As if Viktor were nothing but an uncoordinated child throwing a tantrum.

Finn’s expression is… it is not violent or hateful and maybe that makes it all the more scary. He looks a little annoyed. Almost tired. Bored. That is what he looks like as he pushes Viktor’s forearms together and grips his skinny wrists in just one of his hands.

Sympathetic nervous system is going haywire. It doesn’t allow for any higher brain function, only pushes Viktor to keep struggling and keep trying to get away while the big fever hot presence against his pussy stays and fills him and is completely unflinching.

At least Finn’s bored expression lifts marginally, expression tightening as he leans forward, hovering above Viktor and staring down at him.

“Viktor. Listen to me.”

Viktor shakes his head, but his fight does die down slowly, chest heaving, brain aching. He hates himself in that moment. Unadulterated hatred; because he is clever. He knows he is. And yet he can’t think his way out of this. He can’t do anything. He’s just lying there and allowing Finn to overpower him and it is all his own fault because he can’t do this.

“Good girl. Nice and calm.” Finn reaches out with the hand holding Viktor’s arms, forcing him to fold them up against his chest so he can extend a single finger and brush that against Viktor’s cheek.

“I’ve gone through a lot of trouble to have this moment. I’ve dealt with your filthy fucking parents. I’ve thrown money at them – and you – so they would finally put their signatures on all the papers. I own you,” he pokes Viktor’s cheek with his extended finger, “and it is only by the grace of my good fucking heart that I still take care of them now. I might decide otherwise, you know. If some little bitch got precious about her goddamn cunt and starts to be even more difficult than she already is. For example.”

Finn rolls his hips; a tiny nudge, really, but Viktor can feel the burn of it ricocheting up into his belly. His body tries to clench down and push him back out, his fingers curling and uncurling as Finn stares down at him and the Mer pounds against his tank, and everything combines into a cacophony of sounds and feelings inside his chest that makes him feel nauseous.

Finn’s voice drops a register and becomes so soft and gentle as he curls his finger and instead of poking, brushes the back of his knuckle gently along Viktor’s prominent cheekbone.

“Will you be good?”

Viktor’s cheek twitches and he just mutely stares up at Finn who huffs, sounding honestly amused.

“Remember that every misfortune that befalls your parents from this point forward… is solely resting on your miserable little shoulders. Every hit. Every kick. Every mean spirited little fuck up will take money directly out of their coffers. So… let me ask you again. Will you be good?”

Viktor’s throat is dry. He hates Finn. But he hates himself even more in this moment for being such a helpless little victim. All that intelligence… for what? For nothing.

For absolutely nothing.

He nods slowly and feels pathetic for the burst of hope that warms his chest upon seeing how pleased his husband is with that response.

Maybe he will have mercy. Maybe he will realize that this isn’t the way. Viktor is compliant. He is not going to fight. So maybe-

To Viktor’s utter horror, he can feel his body starting to respond after all. His eyes open wider in horror as a tiny wave of heat laps up into his belly from the fleeting touches to his clit and his hole clenches softly, nervously like it is unsure whether to entice Finn to come inside or not.

Not. Not. Not! his mind screeches, but Finn does another little round and another one, paying just a little bit more attention to his clit each and every time until it starts to swell a little under the attention.

“There you go,” Finn murmurs. “Your body knows how to be a proper woman, even if you don’t. You get wet just like any other bitch. You’re nothing special, my little broodmare. You’ll understand that soon enough, right? Yes. You’re going to spread your legs and offer me your cunt before long. You’ll be begging me to take care of you.”

His eyes are boring into Viktor and Viktor just stares back, horror clawing at the back of his throat but no sound making it out. He wills himself to be limp as a puppet, to make this as unsatisfying as possible for Finn, but his body keeps reacting to the outside stimuli.

Finn leans down and opens his mouth, blowing air against Viktor’s right nipple, and the little thing immediately pebbles and stands at painful attention.

“So sensitive,” Finn sighs. He sounds downright delirious with pleasure, fingers shifting so he can slide two of them through Viktor’s pussy. He presses against his clit, waits until he feels it twitch treacherously beneath the incessant pressure, then slides back down. By now, Viktor really has become a little wet; a bit of moisture filling the gasping little opening down below and making it easier for Finn to dip his fingertips inside.

Despite Viktor’s honest attempt not to react in any which way, his hands suddenly snap up and claw at Finn’s bicep, eyes huge as he stares at his husband. His legs want to snap together to keep him outside, except that they don’t move. Not much. A twitch, maybe, before Finn thwarts his half-baked attempt at closing himself off to his ministrations: he shifts his weight and moves his leg like someone who has never felt his own body disobey and fail him – and presses one knee into Viktor’s thigh, pinning him like an insect.

The pain that explodes up Viktor’s spine is akin to glass shards being rubbed into an open wound.

His eyes become round as saucers, his mouth dropping open but no sound escaping his spasming, panicking lungs. His grasping hands are actual claws between one moment and the next, ripping at Finn’s inked skin.

His husband hisses, metal jaw clicking as he rears his head back to throw the curtain of his hair out of his eyes. At least he pulls his hand off of Viktor’s pussy, but that is a very hollow victory as instead he gathers his hands by the wrists and forces his arms up above his head. The shift in his body weight makes Viktor think that his femur is about to snap like a twig. Tears of pain and frustration well in his eyes.

He refuses to believe that there is fear mixed in there somewhere. He refuses – even though his bladder suddenly feels unacceptably full and ready to release.

Finally, he regains a bit of air only to push it out in a screeching howl.

“Off! Off! Get off me!”

Finn’s expression becomes so calculating that Viktor would throw up had he eaten anything at the reception. There is no compassion there. No shame or regret. Just Finn thinking through his options and honestly wondering if he should remain right where he is. Or maybe make the agony even worse.

Is it possible? Is it possible for the agony to become worse? Looking up at his new husband and seeing the unholy darkness staring right back at him, Viktor does believe that, yes, it can become worse.

So when Finn finally, blessedly, takes his knee off of Viktor’s leg, grabs a fist full of his hair and tells him in no uncertain terms to ‘Thank me for it, bitch!’, Viktor doesn’t waste a moment to think about it.

“Th-thank you,” he gasps out, blinking rapidly, a few tears creeping down his temples and soaking into his hair.

Immediately, the hand in his hair eases off and instead, gentle fingertips pet against Viktor’s gaunt cheek.

Finn’s voice becomes gentle. A low croon. “There you go… that’s the way to go. I’ve been kind to you, haven’t I? I made you feel good. There’s no need to be a stubborn little bitch and try to worm away from me, right?”

Viktor is biting the insides of his lips to keep any noise down. At first he nods, then he shakes his head, then he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing and just lies there still, basking in the feeling of the pain dissipating and Finn being careful for once as he pets his cheek and makes sure not to put undue stress on Viktor’s body as he comes to hunker between his legs.

That way, Viktor can’t close himself up again anyway.

He blinks his eyes open, blearily staring at the ceiling, then at Finn’s arm above him as he still pins his hands down. The lines of ink on his skin truly are fascinating. At the very beginning of the courtship, Viktor had been excited about the craft exhibited in the tattoos and the mechanical marvel displayed in Finn’s metal jaw.

Now he doesn’t think anything. Just watches and floats a little as adrenaline is being used up and leaves him feeling exhausted.

In the quiet as Finn doesn’t talk for once and just admires the picture Viktor makes, he can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heart valiantly doing its work; undeterred by whatever is happening in his life.

It takes him a bit longer to realize that it is still the creature in the tank, testing out just how sturdy the glass actually is.

Then Finn starts talking again and Viktor’s attention shifts back like tectonic plates. It feels like an insurmountable effort.

“Maybe I need to stop being nice to you if you decide to be so difficult. Maybe you need to earn it. I know your parents must have taught you manners. They’ve been nothing but thankful towards me. Taking you off their hands. They’ve nearly been on the ground, licking my boots.”

Slowly, Finn lets Viktor’s arms go, maybe realizing that he doesn’t have enough energy in himself to fight anymore. Not for now. Instead he slides them along his ribcage, down to his waist, then settles on his prominent hipbones.

Finn pauses in front of the bed, eyes finally swivelling to look at Viktor. There is no emotion on his face, his hair falling in front of one of his eyes and further closing his thoughts off to Viktor who is now clawing at his husband’s wrist, trying to get him to ease off and let him breathe.

The pounding is so loud now, Viktor can feel the faint tremors of it moving up his legs. Or maybe it is just him about to faint? He can’t quite tell until Finn turns his head a little to peer at the creature in the tank.

Slowly, he opens his fist and Viktor takes a huge, gulping breath of air.

“The Siren has already taken a liking to you,” he comments slowly, like he is thinking something through while his fingers are slipping behind the knot of Viktor’s tie and ripping at it. Viktor stumbles a step forward, hyper aware of the fragility of his neck. He makes a pained little sound and Finn’s gaze slips back down to him.

“You two will become the best of friends. It will do you good to have some company, I am sure.”

“You surely can’t mean to go through with this? It is ridiculous,” Viktor gets out through clenched teeth. His blood is rushing so hot through his head that he just knows there are ugly red splotches spreading out on his cheeks.

Finn looks down at him, briefly pausing his ripping on Viktor’s tie before resuming, albeit slower. More controlled. Seconds later, the knot opens and the length is slipped away and thrown carelessly to the ground.

“What is ridiculous, my dear wife… is that you think you can talk back to me like this,” Finn murmurs softly. “You are oh-so-intelligent, are you not? Maybe use that big brain of your’s to figure out what I did to this sorry creature-” he jerks his glinting, golden jaw toward the tank, “-I can also do to you. The only reason I have not had your tongue cut out the moment we stepped into this room is that I am certain I can teach you some manners yet, and it will become… important…”

He grasps Viktor’s lax, shocked jaw once more, thumb dragging against his mouth as it had earlier, though this time he dips inside, pressing it down against the soft pad of Viktor’s tongue.

His first thought is to bite down – but then Finn is leaning forward a bit more; an avalanche of a man bearing down on Viktor and making him feel fragile and small. About to be broken into a million pieces. It incapacitates him just long enough for the intrusion to leave the warm, wet cave of his mouth once more. The saliva is smeared against his cheek when Finn cups his jaw and drags his thumb there slowly and self-indulgent.

“Stop being rude and entitled, and I will take good care of you.”

Viktor just stares at him. His limbs are prickling and he doesn’t know if it’s from bad blood circulation or him going into some kind of shock. Finn starts to peel him out of his wedding suit and all he can do is slowly look down and watch it happen. He hears his husband’s voice but the murmurs are like they’re coming through cotton stuffing and the words don’t really make sense.

“Goddamn clothes. Your wardrobe will become a lot simpler in the future.”

Cool air brushes across his skin, a large hand curving around his ribcage, fingers slotting in between the protrusions of his ribs. Viktor slowly looks up at Finn’s face and Finn is looking down with an expression that is downright soft, taking Viktor’s breath away.

His fingers twitch, a nervous kind of hope trying to bloom. Maybe… maybe the other will see reason. Maybe he will realize now that what he is doing, what he has planned, is absolutely crazy.

Finn’s thumb drags against the tiny mound of breast, lightly shoving the bit of fat up, then letting go to watch it bounce down again. His expression becomes even softer – the look in his eyes darker, half shielded by his hair falling across his face.

“You look so much younger than you are, sweetheart. There’s barely anything to you. How… horrible.”

Viktor’s face scrunches up, stomach twisting. Finn jerks his head suddenly, the soft expression dissipating for one much colder. “On the bed.”

Viktor’s jaw moves; he’s chewing on his tongue, willing himself to be quiet as he slowly turns around and crawls onto the bed. He’s known how today would end since the day Finn asked his parents for Viktor’s hand. He’s known and he’s had time to mentally prepare for it. He breathes deeply and tries not to listen to the high metallic sound of a belt buckle opening or to the rustle of clothes.

Instead he focuses on the rhythmic banging coming from the tank. He turns around and lies back on his elbows, eyes forward. The tank is right opposite the bed and the Mer has moved to be in Viktor’s line of sight. His eyes are huge, bushy brows drawn up and together in a concerned frown.

When he sees Viktor looking at him, he bangs against the glass again, faster and more urgent. He pushes himself up with one single, strong motion of his tentacles until he is right beneath the heavy lid on top, lifting his arms and pressing against it from underneath.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of Viktor. I am trying. I want to help. I can’t.

Something along those lines. Viktor’s lips wobble, his throat suddenly feeling like it is squeezed in one gigantic fist.

Somehow this becomes all that much more difficult knowing that someone wants to help but can’t. It’s that much more difficult realizing that something that is not even his species can tell that this is wrong, and it makes it almost impossible to bear – so he looks away toward Finn crawling onto the bed.

He is a handsome man. He is tall and muscular and covered in wonderful tattoos that, as far as Viktor understood from his tales, are customary on his island. A custom just like the siren that he’s offered Viktor as a gift; a glorified stuffed animal to keep him quiet in the many months to come.

He has long, straight limbs and he smells good. He knows how to dress. He is rich.

It had been a mercy that he has not been forced into a dress for the occasion, though he suspects this might have simply been Finn trying to appease his parents.

Movement to his right has Viktor turn, the trepidation in his chest relaxing as his thoughts tilt sideways and he is distracted from the current predicament.

“What is this?” he asks, taking a step forward and pausing when that makes his leg ache like a drill into his hip, painful splinters of agony lancing up his spine. The fatigue over the course of the wedding and its reception has settled deep into his frame. Even the sight before him can’t quite soothe that:

There’s a huge fish tank taking up that part of the room, and inside the fish tank: a merperson. Huge and ethereal looking, its exact size impossible to tell what with multiple tentacles slowly spreading out in the water surrounding it.

Two human hands slowly press against the glass and a pair of human eyes watches them quietly. He looks about as intrigued by the sight of someone new as Viktor is by the sudden apparition.

Finn’s hot presence at his back is suddenly impossible to ignore. The door has closed, cutting off the noises of the outside world. There’s the soft hum of a water pump, or maybe a heater doing its work but nothing can quite draw out the metallic click of Finn’s jaw when he moves it to talk.

“My gift to you.”

“Gift?” Viktor echoes, feeling a little faint now staring at the merperson. The creature’s upper body looks like a human’s just as all the tales would suggest, but Viktor has never actually seen a live one before and is unprepared for how uncanny the sight is. How perfectly normal the Mer looks down to the juts of hipbones that do not end in actual legs. Not human ones, at the very least.

Just where a human’s pubis should begin, the Mer’s body just keeps going, warm brown skin suddenly cut off into some much more rusty colored tissue of a visibly different texture.

“My wedding gift,” Finn murmurs. His hands slowly grasp Viktor’s shoulders, fingers pressing against the thin lines of his collarbones in a way that makes Viktor acutely aware of how easy it would be for the other to break them. To break him.

He keeps staring at the Mer and the Mer stares back at them. Viktor does not know what to think of this gift; he’s been unprepared to get anything from Finn, much less something as extravagant as this.

“It is customary, is it not?” Finn’s hands slowly slide along Viktor’s arms; down to his elbows and back up again.

Viktor’s confusion must be loud because Finn clicks his jaw, this time in annoyance.

“It is customary on my island. A siren. For my bride.” He gestures toward the humongous tank. “To elevate her beauty.”

Viktor’s mouth goes dry, something sour in the back of his throat forcing him to swallow a couple of times. He glances at the huge creature in the tank again, watching Finn standing behind him through the reflection in the glass.

Viktor himself is nearly invisible in the darkness of Finn’s suit, swallowing him whole except for his pale face making a splotch in the reflection.

The Mer shifts a little. His eyes are unfathomably intelligent in Viktor’s opinion. There is a self-awareness there that makes him feel nauseous; but not as much as when he finally sees the fine thread covering the creature’s lips.

“What happened?” he rasps, trying to take a step forward but being effortlessly held back by Finn. “His mouth…”

“Sirens are dangerous,” Finn murmurs. He leans down, breathing softly into one of Viktor’s ears. He touches the metal teeth of his lower jaw softly against the cartilage and Viktor is unprepared for how warm it feels. He jerks away instinctively. He can’t see Finn’s expression immediately souring, but he feels his hand grabbing his jaw and jerking him back into position.

His fingers squeeze tight enough to bruise; but only for a moment before they relax again, holding Viktor’s chin in his palm and forcing him to keep looking at the Mer. “I would not want it to hurt my bride, especially since you’re going to spend the foreseeable future in this room. So I took care to have a scholar enchant the threads.”

Viktor has no knowledge about Mers; they have never interested him much as he had thought them mere fairytales, but even so he knows what it sounds like when Finn is lying… but his mind is stuck on a different problem.

“What do you mean by I am going to spend the foreseeable future in this room?” His accent is more prominent along with his nerves and Finn makes that little cooing sound that he does when he thinks Viktor is being cute. He gently tucks his head around with the hand still on his chin and leans forward until they can lock eyes.

Finn’s thumb strokes gently back-and-forth along Viktor’s bottom lip, his eyes dark and heavy lidded as he peers down at that pale, upturned face.

“This will be the nursery once I have bred you, my gorgeous little peach. You will stay here until you are fat with my child and have birthed it. Then you will be allowed to leave once more. You will see, time will fly very quickly. The sooner you become pregnant, the sooner you will be able to go out once more. Until then, you will be waited on hand and foot and worshiped like my beautiful young wife should be.”

A horrible gaping maw opens up in the pit of Viktor’s stomach, mouth going dry as he rips himself out from Finn’s grasping hands and takes a step back, one hand balled into a fist in front of his chest, pressing into his sternum because it feels like his ribs are about to shatter.

“You can’t lock me in here,” he finally gets out, voice cracking humiliatingly, so he swallows and steels his spine, willing himself to calm down and be logical about this while Finn just stares at him with a stony face, all amusement and affection having bled out from him. “My parents will want to see me. There are people I am in contact with, who will be worried if I suddenly drop off the face of the earth.”

Finn’s lip twitches, the motion moving into his cheeks like ripples in a pond as he tilts his head to the side, voice still gentle, still coaxing. “I already took care of that. Letters have been prepared that you simply have to sign later. They will understand that for now you will focus on your duties as a good little wife. That all you will want to think about is how to spread your legs and make sure you get pregnant. They will understand.”

They will not. This is insane. Viktor shakes his head slowly, trying to come up with a sequence of words that will make Finn see reason; that will somehow penetrate that thick skull of his… but he can’t think because Finn suddenly jerks toward him, grabbing his tie with one huge hand and twisting his fingers into his shirt until the stiff collar of his wedding suit is cutting off his air flow.