OutOfABox

So when the weekend comes and Meimei had been prepped with new toys, movies and food did he venture to the outskirts of Linkon. He wasn't a fool, carrying the gun Tartarus had given him with him as he got off the bus in the middle of nowhere. He had gotten a location by the stranger, far off the regular trail that weaved itself through the woods, near a big tree that was hollowed out.

He waits there patiently, his eyes flickering to his phone and back into the dark shrubs. He could have sworn he had seen eyes in the dark, but it must have been his exhaustion from the weeks work. A soft sigh escapes his throat as he idly fiddles with his phone until he gets startled by a vibration.

"Thank you for coming, Perses. Please put your belongings to the side, we will collect them later. The Game starts in 10 Minutes. I will send you your new location in a few" - R."

Caleb read the message carefully, a few times before hiding his things in the hollowed out tree. A shiver runs down his back as he feels the air crackling with tension. Another vibration against his palm and a new dot on the map pops up, suggesting the starting point of their little game. Another deep breath, hands patting himself down to make sure the gun was still on him before he wanders off into the dark shroud.

"Game starts in 5 Minutes. There is no finish line or route, just run and enjoy the fresh air, we will meet soon."

Calebs purple eyes flicker to the screen and back to his surroundings, only when a countdown starts beeping down does his heart begin to jump out of his chest.

Gods.. what did he agree too? He was crazy for agreeing to this. He should turn around, he grumbled to himself in thoughts until a shrill beep announced the start of their hunt.

The young man runs and runs through the thick undergrowth, careful to not trip as something starts picking up on his trail behind him. Loud thuds followed by deep growls make him hasten his sprint. Sweat collects on his forehead, dripping down to his chin, as the loud footsteps get louder and louder and a dark presence builds behind him. Full of adrenaline he looks over his shoulder, gleaming yellow eyes stare back at him with hunger, causing him to almost lose his footing.

"F-Fuck...", he hisses at the undefined thing rushing at him, panic manifests and before he can even mumble another word, he lands flat on the ground, with someone caging him in.

He raises his arm in protection, panting and looking panicked into the yellow eyes that had watched him ever since.

"Look at that.. caught the puppy so fast.. I expected more of you", the dark voice growls amused, a cold metallic nuzzle brushes against his cheek as he noses at his throat, before taking it off and throwing it to the side.

What a delightful smell.. of fear and adrenaline, he could bury himself into his throat right there and then, ripping it open but he cherishes his prey too much for that.

The poor boy was shaken, still staring into the mesmerising golden eyes, before his gaze flickers up at his ears and back to the fangs gleaming in his smile.

"L-Listen.. W-We can run again.. I'm sorry.. ", Caleb tries to appease the creature before his wrists meet the ground again, opening him up to the muscular man above him, who has caged him in with ease.

"Shh.. no need to run anymore, I don't think I can wait much longer.", the man hummed back, before letting his longue pierced tongue glide along his neck, nibbling and biting at the shivering skin. He let his fingers glide down his arm, orders him to hold still while he breathes in his frantic scent. The intoxicating mixture of his fear and sweat was a treat for him, his tongue brushes against his armpit, making him squirm beneath.

"Turn around.", he whispers into the younger ones ear, biting and licking over it before watching him move as he has commanded. A light tremble shakes Calebs body as he obeys, presenting himself on all fours with his back to him, shuddering as his clothes get ripped from him, leaving him bare and shivering in front of him.

A soft dark laugh escapes Valkos throat as he takes in the sight of his prey. Big hands drag across his body, leaving goosebumps in his wake until he pulled him flush against him, letting him feel the growing bulge that was pulsing in the restraints of his clothes.

"Feel that, puppy? Scared?", he rasps towards him as his hand finds his stiffening cock, gently massaging him with light strokes.

Caleb can't help but whine softly at the light touch, hiding his face against his own shoulder as Valkos hands wander off, the sound of a zipper and wet pressure against his behind knock the air out of his chest. But before Caleb can even complain over the lack of preparation, does spit hit his hole and two fingers enter at their own pace.

Soft whimpering and needy whines escape his throat, while the man leans against his back, pulling him flush against him to feel the sheer size of him resting against his behind. "Relax... I will try to be gentle", he hums against his ear before pushing the head of his cock against him, a light hiss escapes him from the pressure until he finally pushes in, a tight warmth welcoming him and stealing his own breath for once.

"And here I thought you were experienced, Puppy.. don't pass out on me, boy.", he laughs before thrusting deep into him, making Caleb shake from the sudden intrusion.

He is relentless with the poor boy, taking whatever he pleases from him until Caleb can do nothing but shake and whimper. He feels his legs giving way, holding himself up with desperation to not faceplant into the ground. "P-Please.. can't..", Caleb whines but instead of stopping, he thrusts harder and deeper into the tight hole, stealing every last breath of him.

Caleb pleads for a break but only gets met with a scoff.

"No need for that, I can hold you", the man hums against his back, biting into his shoulder before pulling him on to of him, holding him up with ease while kneeling and fucking up into him. Caleb panicks, reaches back for hold as he gets used as his own little fucktoy.

He doesn't know how long it has been, how often he has pushed him past his limits. He feels limp, his consciousness already breaking, as he hears his voice in his ears again. His arms are held behind his back for support as he takes and takes.

“Im so sorry… puppy hold your breath for me”, he murmurs into his ear, kissing his pulse point as he feels the familiar swell at the hilt of his own manhood.

Confused Caleb does as he tells him to, gasping and holding until he feels the stretch grow and grow, pushing him past his limits. The air bursts out of him with the desperate whine of an abandoned wolf cub, his cock twitching with an orgasm yet again.

"Hngh... good boy...", Valko praises him while holding him close, biting his shoulder to distract from the pain.

"too much...please...too...much," Caleb holds onto him for dear life as his hips still roll against the solid body under him instinctively.

“Im sorry pup, just breathe through it.. can you do that for me?”, he whispers into his ear, licking across his earshell while his own breaths came in ragged, feeling him tense against his swollen knot as he fills him deeply with his seed.

The whimpering boy nods hurriedly, always so eager to please, so very good for him.

"Yes...master..."

“Good pup…”, he pulls him into a hug and lays down with him and lets him rest on his arm while holding him close until the swelling finally goes down, letting him slip out again. “You did so well for me.”

Caleb lies on his chest out of breath, his heart pounding a mile a minute letting out a soft broken sound as the other finally slides out of him. He's barely holding onto consciousness as he feels the drag of a warm tongue against his neck, lapping up his sweat, leaving small nips with those sharp canines in its wake.

Valko lets him rest on him while still licking soft love kisses over his neck and ear before gently letting him down from his arm to clean him up properly. His long warm tongue soothing against his sore muscle as he licks across his hole, cleaning and massaging him while he drifts off and when he wakes up in a warm cabin, wrapped in a blanket, naked but clean he wonders if it had all been a dream or if he really had ran into a wolf that night.

The infamous artist groans in embarrassment and this eggs everyone on further, raising their glasses towards him and applauding. “We are never doing this again.” Yoongi slurs, a little tipsy himself as he chuckles, the alcohol starting to loosen him up a bit.

It wasn’t like Yoongi always had his guard up, at least not around his colleagues anyways. He was just incredibly professional and slightly uptight. The two of you had spoken a handful of times while at the camp, mostly focusing on the song and the two of you worked well together.

You were from a more smaller company and when the two of you first met, he said he looked up some of the other collaborations that you did and was fond of your work. It was incredibly easy working with him and his team. No one could deny that the two of you had chemistry when it came to music. If you had a thought or suggestion Yoongi would practically finish your sentence. And if he wanted to change something you would already be on it.

Most of his other producers were amazed at how fast the two of you were working and how smooth it was going, which was half of the reason they wanted you to attend the party in the first place. The first producer to make the Agust D smile while working on a song instead of being tense.

But despite everything, you two hadn’t spoken much since then, so it was a surprise to you when he had stepped up to you when you alone in the kitchen, getting yourself another drink.

The first bottle of whiskey was already run dry, so you were to busy stumbling as you stood on your tippy toes to reach the other bottle in the cabinet to notice he had walked in the kitchen and was watching you from afar.

You hadn’t realized that he stood only a couple steps away from you, watching and analyzing your every move. His eyes wandering your body and curves as you struggled to reach the desired item. He couldn’t help but stare at your ass that was covered by your tight black skirt and watched as your breasts jiggled the more you stumbled and reached for the drink.

With his own new desire in mind, Yoongi finally advanced towards you. Making his movements slow and menacing, not stopping until he was behind you and his back was almost pressed against you.

Feeling the sudden body heat you spun around, your eyes widening even further when they meet his dark brown ones. You back away slightly, trying to create some distance but move hip first into the counter behind you causing you to wince in pain.

“You should be more careful, Y/N-ah.” He spoke in a soothing low tone, suppressing a small smirk when he saw how flustered you got, your cheeks even more red now and not just from the alcohol.

“Sorry, Min Yoongi-ssi.” You mumble with a nervous chuckle trying to stay professional and not get sucked in by his expensive perfume and deep gaze. It had already been heard enough to ignore his beauty during camp.

He lets out a deep chuckle, cracking a small friendly smile that hides his true intentions. “No need to be so formal Y/N.” He says, tilting his head slightly to take in more of your features.

He had spent almost a full week with you, and of course he noticed how pretty you were but he paid no mind to it. After all, he was focused on his work and he had seen better woman before. But now he had gotten a good full look at you with more of an (hazy) open mind.

“Ah, Y/N-ah don't you know? You shouldn't apologize to me when you're in no wrong. You shouldn't lower yourself to me so much." He said his smile turning more into a smirk.

“And plus, I’d say we have gotten quite close,” he spoke, his voice getting more quiet as he leaned more into you, pinning you between the counter and his body. “Don’t you think?” He asked with a smile smirk, having gotten you right where he wanted you.

“Wow,” You breathed out, glancing around the empty kitchen as if you were imagining everything that was happening. Guiltily, you had already had some inappropriate thoughts about him before thanks to his song lyrics but you knew better not to act on them.

“I guess so...” Your voice trailed out and you think you’re being discreet about finding an exit but Yoongi notices.

He leans more against you body so that by now they are touching. He continues to focus his eyes on you before effortlessly reaching an arm above your head as he grabs the drink for you.

Your eyes light up at the drink, even though it’s clear you don’t really need any more. “Thank you Yoongi-ah~” you slur while reaching for it but he pulls his arm back and takes the bottle out of your reach much to your confusion.

He chuckles with a soft smile at the cute expression, this one being more genuine than the last. “I don’t think you need anymore of this.” He says with a smug smile as he looks down at you. Yoongi moved one of his arms down and placed his hand on your hip that bumped into the counter earlier. The other hand still on the drink. He smirked once again as he moved his face closer to yours. "I wouldn't like for you to get hurt again."

Your throat hitches as you feel his warm hand on your hip, drawing small circles into it as he spoke in a soft tone. You finally see the hint of lust in his eyes that you failed to notice before and your heart thumps.

“You’re right. I think I’ll just go back to the party.” You say with a nervous chuckle, trying to somehow squeeze past him to get to the lobby while still being trapped between him and the counter behind you.

"I wouldn't advise you to go to the party. It's noisy and loud, there'll be too many people." Yoongi subtly brought his other arm with the bottle down and placed it on the counter, blocking all of your exits.

Now knowing where this was going you lean back more into the counter. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” You whisper looking down and away from his face so you’re not tempted to do anything that could possibly put your job in jeopardy.

“Why?” He said in a confident deep tone. “You know company’s have loosened up, and we’re grown adults.” Yoongi said with a soft chuckle as he leans closer to where you could feel his breath on your shoulder, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

“We’re from different companies.” You whisper, breathing getting heavy as the tension in the room starts to get hotter. Three drinks ago you wouldn’t even be considering about this, and maybe he wouldn’t even be either. But here you were.

“That's the best part." Yoongi said in a low voice as he took two fingers to move your chin so you were looking directly at him. He brushed your hair out of your eyes before tucking it behind your ear.

"No one from your company is even here and no one of my company knows you." He states calmly, giving you his signature smile for reassurance but the look of passion in his eyes tells a different story.

Your breathing becomes hitched as the hand on your hip begins to move to caress your side. He takes a swig of the alcohol as if to say ‘fuck it’ before quickly planting a hungry kiss on your exposed neck.

You bite your bottom lip to hold in a gasp as his wet soft lips hit your skin. His grip tightens on your hip as he kisses a trail down your neck "You're so beautiful," he breathes against your skin, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Your mind is hazy from the alcohol and his touch and suddenly all logical thinking begins to dissolve. All you can think about is how touch deprived you’ve been for years. How one of the most richest and famous person alive were telling you how beautiful you were. You can’t remember the last time you’ve let yourself let loose and release some steam.

He leans in close and presses his lips against yours, his tongue moving against them in a slow glide before pulling away. "No one has to know. Except for you and me." He says in a husky voice.

Now that he has you in his grasp, he gently takes your hand in his and leads you both out of the kitchen and upstairs to a one of the many empty hotel rooms that would soon be filled with drunk coworkers.

As soon as you step inside the room, he shuts the door behind him and locks it securely. He moves towards you again, placing a sloppy but firm kiss so you can taste the mix of alcohol on his lips while holding onto your waist tightly.

This time you return the kiss, now with your own hunger. “So pretty..” he praises again when he pulls away to catch his breath.

He starts kissing down your neck, his hand quickly moving to reach down to your blouse and unbutton it. You can feel the heat rising between you two, your breaths become shorter and quicker, your hearts racing in sync as he successfully gets your shirt off and on the ground.

You don’t have time to think as his hands move up to your breasts, feeling their weight and massaging them as he kisses you deeper. As he reaches your cleavage, he begins to undo your bra, letting go of your breasts so he could remove it completely. He holds the kiss as he does so causing your breathing to become faster and heavier at his touch. It was like an addiction, that you couldn’t get enough of.

He steps back, taking in your beautiful breasts for a moment before concluding that you needed all of your clothes off. He moves down and starts kissing all around your neck, chin, and jawline, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and uses this as an opportunity to push you towards a nearby couch.

He kicks off his shoes as you collapse on the couch and he does the honors of taking off your heels for you as you quickly get off his shirt. He leans forward, and presses another passionate kiss against yours. “I’ve waited months for this..” he mumbles into the kiss, lying right out of his teeth.

His hands start to roam again, this time he takes the waistband of your skirt and pulls it down to your legs. “Let’s make sure you’re nice and wet for me..” he says in a deep husky voice as he slips his hand through your underwear feeling your wet fabric first.

You shiver when his fingers brush against your slit and as soon as he feels how soaked you are, he smiles widely leaning in to kiss you again. “So wet..” he hums before pulling his warm fingers away to pull down your underwear completely.

So having seen and felt enough, Yoongi unbuckles his pants and lets them fall to his knees. You can see the outline of his hard cock tugging at his boxers. He finally removes his boxers and his cock springs out, precum already leaking in anticipation. If being completely sober you would be more embarrassed of the situation, but your mind is to clouded by lust and warmth that you can take in his body completely.

He moves closer towards you once more, pressing himself firmly against you so that you're able to see every inch of him pressed against your stomach. "Mmmh...you like what you see?" he asks softly, as he wraps his hand around his cock.

You nod, a little to quickly as you watch him with pleading eyes. He smirks at your needy gaze, his hips moving into his hand involuntarily as he rubs his hand over your thigh.

Feeling your heat, he leans forward and kisses you, deepening the kiss as he slides his hands up your thighs to your hips. He squeezes them tightly, holding you in place as he slowly rubs himself against your entrance. He places one hand behind your neck while the other holds your hip firmly, gently pushing his cock inside you. You gasp loudly from the sudden pressure, but Yoongi only grins widely as he begins thrusting his hips slowly.

He lets out a grunt as he slowly pushes his painfully hard cock inside you, “So tight.. So wet..” he practically growls at the feeling of your warmth.

Your eyes shut tightly as he continues to slam his cock against your walls as he grips your hip tightly with both hands. “Look at me when I fuck you, Y/N..” he says in a demanding tone making you moan loudly in response your eyes fluttering open to look at him and you can admit it’s a beautiful sight. Never had you thought you’d be getting fucked by a famous idol like this, but now that it was happening you might as well take in all the sights.

“Fuck..that’s right..” he mumbles in a rough voice as he grips your hips tightly, his muscles tensing with every thrust he makes. It doesn’t take long after that till you’re clenching around him, moaning loudly as he drives you to a much needed orgasm that fills you with ecstasy.

His breathing becomes heavy too, sweat dripping off his forehead as he continues pounding. "Good girl..." He whispers huskily before kissing you passionately again.

In one swift motion he takes both hands and grips your hips tightly, lifting you up and off of the couch so he can sit down instead and places you on top of his lap still keeping himself buried deep within you.

Once comfortable sat up against the couch, he starts to move inside of you once again, starting off slow before speeding up. His thrusts are rougher than before, his hips slamming into yours as he holds your tightly to keep you in upright on his lap.

His thrusts become more needy and sloppy, causing you to bounce back and forth across his lap as he grunts softly as he feels himself getting close. He leans forward, holding onto your waist for support as he begins moving faster and harder, driving his cock deeper and deeper inside you until he finally releasing all of his hot cum inside of you.

The two of you stay like that a for a little, his warm cock buried deep inside of you as you try to steady your breathing.

Once Yoongi sees your breathing start to slow and you begin to come down from your high, he shifts his position so his laid down on the couch and you’re on top of his chest.

Your eyes flutter close shortly after, and when they finally open back up in the morning, Yoongi is gone.

Part 1

Drums beating in the distance were the first thing I heard upon waking.

I opened my eyes with a grimace and immediately sucked in a sharp breath as my gaze landed on the dead body of my escort slumped on the ceiling of our overturned carriage.

I didn’t know who had attacked us, or why, as we traveled from the city where I attended a prestigious art school to the estate I called home. All I knew was one minute we were traveling along the dirt road and then there was a shout from the driver, several thunks against the side of the carriage then all hell had broken loose as the horses bolted.

The last thing I remembered was loud voices shouting in a language I didn’t understand, the horses loudly whining and the carriage jolting to an abrupt stop before sliding off the road. I had been awake as it rolled the first two times then my head had collided with the edge of the window frame and then… darkness.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position, a sharp hiss of pain leaving my lips as I gently touched my forehead where I had hit it, only for my fingers to come back sticky with blood when I pulled my hand away.

Swallowing, I wiped my hand on my skirts and looked around at the state of the carriage. The entire interior was in complete disarray, everything knocked over, windows shattered and glass everywhere, glittering in the sunlight like gemstones. My escort’s lifeless body was lying wedged between the ceiling of the carriage and one of the seats, his sightless eyes staring up at the sky.

As I stared at him, the drumming grew louder, the sounds of multiple horses and shouting cutting through the silence along with it. My eyes darted to the broken window above me, panic setting in as I wondered if I could climb through the opening and escape without being seen.

A knock on the side of the carriage interrupted my thoughts, making me jump and whirl around, only to wince as my hand landed in broken glass. My heart pounded in my chest as footsteps approached before the door was yanked open, the sudden rush of sunlight blinding me as I squinted up at the silhouetted form of a man standing over me.

"You’re alive then?" he said, his voice quiet and smooth. Placing his hands on the window ledge, he jumped into the carriage and crouched down in front of me, eyes roaming over me with an intensity that made goosebumps rise on my skin.

I could see him clearly now that he was no longer in the sun…

… his wide chest and broad shoulders left mostly bare except for a wide strap over one shoulder and a necklace made from feathers and multicolored beads. Long legs covered in dark leather pants tucked into knee high boots; leather arm bracers stitched with beadwork in an intricate design from wrists to elbows. And a devilishly handsome face framed by waist length silver hair braided in several chunks that trailed down his back and fell over his shoulders. His crimson eyes were lined in heavy kohl and held an edge of something dangerous that made my stomach twist when they met mine.

Everything about him exuded danger—from his piercing gaze to the scars marring his bare torso and shoulders to the bow strapped over his shoulder.

"You're a pretty little thing," he murmured, reaching out and lifting my chin with cool fingers.

He stared at me intently, his eyes sweeping over my appearance, his gaze lingering over my torn and bloodstained skirt then trailing up to my yellow blouse with its expensive stitching. He tilted my head to the side to examine my face, his expression unreadable. "You're bleeding," he stated bluntly, his tone devoid of concern as his thumb traced along the cut on my forehead.

I bit back a hiss and tried to pull away only the fingers holding my chin to tighten ever so slightly, his eyes flashing with a subtle threat as he murmured, "Don't… fight me."

He leaned closer, so close that I could feel his breath lightly ghosting across my face as he continued to scan my features, his gaze lingering on my lips for a moment before he spoke again, "You look like a doll," he murmured, his voice low and almost contemplative. "So delicate."

He released my chin and ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek, his touch feather-light and yet strangely possessive. "Doll-like skin to match your wide, innocent eyes and soft, pink lips," he continued, his voice carrying just the faintest edge of mockery.

I didn't respond, unable to find my voice in the face of his almost clinical examination, the way he studied me making me feel like I was some kind of exotic species that he had only just discovered. There was a coldness in his gaze that clashed with the almost reverent way his fingers were tracing my face, and I found I was both fascinated and frightened by him, his powerful presence captivating me and sending a shiver of fear down my spine.

He chuckled softly and shifted closer, his body blocking out the sunlight completely as he towered over me. "I bet it wouldn't take much effort to break you," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "To see that innocence shattered and the fire beneath awakened…"

He ran his thumb gently across my bottom lip and chuckled when I flinched back, "You have a pretty mouth too. I wonder… can you keep it shut, or do you like to talk back?" His gaze never left mine as his hand slid from my face to the nape of my neck, his fingers lightly tracing over the bare skin there before he gripped the loose strands of hair and pulled my head back, forcing me to look up at him. "Answer me," he whispered, his voice taking on a commanding tone, his grip forcing my neck to arch and leaving my throat exposed. "Do you like to talk back?"

"I...," I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse and weak.

He leaned in until his nose was almost touching mine, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Come now, pretty bird, you can speak louder than that," he drawled. "Or are you too nervous to answer such a simple question?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing as I stared up at him.

I had never been talked to like this before, like I was merely a toy to play with, to sit on a shelf and admire, and as much as I didn’t like it, I knew better than to bother with a response because no matter what I said… he didn’t seem the type to care about what I really thought.

He chuckled softly when I refused to answer his question, his grip on my hair gentling as he watched me struggle to find my words. "You quite adorable when you're panicked," he said, his voice carrying that hint of mockery again. "Like a frightened little rabbit, trembling before a wolf that's about to pounce."

His gaze drifted to the blood on my forehead, his fingers reaching up to trace the cut. "And yet, there's something about you that intrigues me," he murmured, his tone almost puzzled. "Something that keeps me from just wrapping my fingers around that soft… pretty… neck and squeezing the life out of you…"

My heart rate quickened, and despite myself, a small shiver of fear raced down my spine.

I was a mouse trapped by a snake, unable to move or look away from his cold, calculating gaze, and despite his mockery and his obvious disdain for me, there was something underneath his words that hinted at a deeper interest, a curiosity that confused me just as much as it frightened me. What did he plan to do with me?

I opened my mouth to ask only for him to tsk, his grip on my hair shifting to place a finger over my lips. "No, I think I'll keep you for a while," he said, his voice low and rough as he ran the pad of his finger over my bottom lip. "See what kind of noises you'd make… see how much it takes to break that innocence of yours and make you beg…"

His fingertips traced a path along my skin, the touch light but possessive as his hand came to rest around my throat. "Are you a virgin, pretty little bird?" he murmured, his eyes darkening with a hunger that made my stomach clench. "I've always preferred my toys to be intact… and untouched."

His words were like daggers to my stomach and my eyes widened in fear as he continued to speak before I could even formulate a response, "Well, are you?" he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Are you untouched, or has someone else already taken what should be mine?"

I felt a flush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks at his question, but I forced myself to hold his gaze, my eyes locked onto his.

He chuckled, his fingers gliding up and down my neck gently like I was a horse he was trying to tame. "Oh, you are innocent," he said, the corner of his mouth curled into a wolfish smirk. "I can tell by the way you're blushing, the way you're attempting to hide your trembling…"

He leaned closer, his body now mere inches from mine so I could feel the heat radiating off him, the smell of leather and something else, something primal, filling my nostrils. "How delightful." His fingers curled around my neck in a gesture that was both possessive and threatening. "How old are you, pretty bird?"

"You… you won't get away with this," I bit out instead of answering him, my voice barely more than a whisper. "There are people who will notice I'm gone."

A lazy smirk twisted the corner of his lip, his eyes gleaming with amused disdain. "And you think that frightens me?" he said, mockery creeping into his tone again. Your little threats are adorable," he murmured. "But you're sorely mistaken if you think anyone will be coming to save you, pretty bird. We're far from civilization, and your carriage is a mess, courtesy of my men. You're all alone with a dangerous predator, and no one will hear your screams."

Despite the situation and the fear clawing at my chest, that spark of defiance that always seemed to get me trouble flared within me, my words sharp as I spat out, "You're a monster."

A slow, sardonic smirk formed on his lips, as if he found my defiant tone entertaining. "You have no idea," he replied, his voice dripping with condescension as he dropped his hand from around my neck and grabbed my arm, pulling me up to a standing position.

My head spun and my legs buckled from the sudden movement and dizziness from my head injury. I grabbed onto his arm for support, trying to steady myself, but he used my moment of weakness to maneuver me in front of him, his body pressed against my back and one arm locked around my waist, his hand still gripping my neck possessively.

His breath was hot against my ear as he leaned in, his nose nuzzling against my hair and inhaling deeply. "You smell like fear and innocence," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "It's delightful."

I struggled against him, attempting to break free, but his grip was ironclad and he simply tightened his hold, pulling me closer against him until his chest was pressed against my back and the heat of his body radiated through my thin shirt.

"You're a spirited little thing, aren’t you? Still struggling and fighting. I can appreciate that." He pressed his body closer to mine, his hand still grasping my neck. "But you're only wasting your energy, pretty bird. I'll have you, one way or another. You're mine now."

He pulled me backwards, his other arm wrapping around me like a steel band as he maneuvered us out of the carriage and into bright sunlight.

I squinted at the sudden change in lighting, blinking rapidly to adjust to my surroundings, my vision hazy and disoriented from the blow to my head. We had stepped out onto the dirt road that was lined with trees, the smell of wilderness and the sound of distant birds filling the air.

I tried to pull away from him again, but his grip on me was too strong, and I stumbled, my balance thrown off by my head injury and fear.

He chuckled softly, his arms flexing as he supported me. "Careful now, pretty bird," he admonished, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "I can’t have you getting too damaged before I’ve had the chance to properly play with you, now, can I?"

I glared at him, my fear increasing, but he ignored me as he began walking, his long strides forcing me to walk with him or end up in the dirt. I stumbled again, and he let out an irritated huff, his grip on me tightening as he lifted me effortlessly and tossed me over his shoulder.

I let out a gasp of surprise, my hands instinctively clutching at his bare shoulders to steady myself as my head swam and my stomach lurched.

He continued walking without breaking his stride, his steps steady and confident as he made his way through the trees towards the road above.

As he walked, I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of leather and sweat filling my nose again as I was carried away, my skirts hiked up to reveal the pale skin of my lower legs and my bottom in the air. I squirmed, pushing against his lower back with my hands in an attempt to push upright, but his grip was unyielding, his arm locked around my thighs like a vise.

"That's it, keep fighting," he murmured, the arm around my thighs slipping slightly higher until his large hand was resting directly on my bottom. "I like it when you struggle. It will make it all the more satisfying when you break for me, pretty bird."

I stiffened, a shiver of both horror and an unwanted pang of something I didn't want to acknowledge racing down my spine. "Where are you taking me?" I demanded. "Let me go!"

He chuckled once more, the sound deep and dark, his hand gripping my bottom a little tighter until his fingers were pressing possessively into my flesh through my skirts. "And where do you think you'll go, pretty bird?" he taunted. "You're in the middle of nowhere, far from any kind of civilization, alone with no escort. And even if you were somehow able to escape me, my men would find you. You're mine now, so quit your struggling."

I bit back a retort and forced myself to go limp against him, knowing that struggling was useless. I couldn't stop the tremors that wracked my body though, feeling both vulnerable and helpless being carried away like some kind of prize to be taken and used by this dangerous man.

"That's better, little bird," he murmured, his hand patting my bottom a few times. "Save your energy. You'll need it for what I have in store for you."

He carried me through the trees in silence for several minutes, the sound of his boots crunching on the dirt blending with the sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds, before he abruptly stopped. I could hear the murmur of multiple voices, shuffling steps and the neighs of multiple horses even though I couldn’t see anything but his lower back, his long legs and the gravel and dead leaves beneath his boots.

He slowly lowered me, keeping a possessive arm around my waist to keep me steady as he gently set me down on my feet and spun me until my back was pressed against his chest.

My eyes darted around, taking in a group of about 20 men, their faces grim and rough looking. Many were dressed in similar clothing as the man behind me, mostly leather and dark colors, all carrying various types of weapons and sporting scars as well as tattoos.

They regarded me with looks ranging from curiosity to interest to lust, and I found myself tensing under their gazes, my heart rate spiking in discomfort and the need I suddenly felt to break free and run.

The man behind me tightened his grip as if sensing my thoughts, his hand coming up to rest on my hip. "Everything in order?" he asked in a low voice.

One of the men, a burly looking individual with a scarred face, stepped forward. "Yes, Overlord. All cargo and spoils accounted for," he said, then his gaze flickered to me. "That the little prize you got for yourself?"

The Overlord chuckled, his grip on me shifting from my hips to my stomach as he replied, "Indeed. A pretty little bird fell right into my lap. She's mine, understood?"

A chorus of grunted agreements and nods followed his words. A few men looked disappointed, but none dared to argue, clearly used to their leader taking the best of the spoils.

The Overlord slid his hand down to outside of my thigh and rubbed it absentmindedly as he spoke, "Let's get moving," he said, his voice firm and authoritative. "We've got a lot of ground to cover before nightfall."

As his men turned to their horses and started to mount up, The Overlord pulled me towards a huge black horse and effortlessly climbed onto its back even though it was a head taller than him. As soon as he was settled on the massive horse’s back, the horse started to prance as if ready to bolt as he reached down, grabbed my wrist and easily lifted me into his lap so that I was in front of him in the saddle.

I squirmed in his grip uncomfortably to try to put some distance between us, but he only wrapped his arm around me, trapping me between the horse’s muscular body and his own solid chest as he murmured in my ear, "Don't try anything stupid. You won't get far. And if you do, I'll hunt you down and bring you back, and you won’t like your punishment."

He paused, inhaling deeply against the side of my face like a bloodhound picking up my before continuing, "You would do well to remember that you belong to me now."

"I belong to no one," I retorted, my voice loud but trembling slightly with fear and anger.

The men around us laughed, one calling out, "Looks like she’s a feisty one, Overlord."

The Overlord chuckled softly, a dark sound deep in his chest. "She is." He tightened his grip on me, his hand sliding to grip my thigh. "But I enjoy a challenge. And I always get what I want, don't I, boys?"

The men around us let out another round of chuckles and muttered their agreement, their eyes still fixed on me.

I bristled at his arrogant words and their clear amusement at my situation, my fists clenching in frustration against the saddle horn. "I'm not some animal to be tamed. You can't just take me as your plaything!"

A low chuckle rumbled in The Overlord’s chest, one hand sliding up to my chin and tilting my face towards him. His expression was amused, mocking, when my eyes met his. "You're cute when you're defiant," he said, his thumb tracing over my bottom lip. "But I don't think you quite understand your situation yet, pretty bird."

His gaze bore into mine with a cold, calculating intensity as he continued, "You're alone, surrounded by my men. There's no one to save you. No one to hear you scream. You're completely at my mercy, and I can do whatever I want with you."

His hand moved to my throat, his thumb grazing over my pulse point as if wanting to feel how my heartbeat skipped in fear. "You may be feisty and defiant, but eventually, you'll learn your place. You'll learn that you're my property, and you'll learn to obey me."

I shuddered but kept quiet, the threat in his words making me feel small and helpless as fear and resignation pooled in my gut. There would be no escape from this man…

The Overlord leaned in, his breath hot against my ear as he spoke softly so only I could hear, "You can fight me if you like," he murmured, his tone almost playful. "It's cute, but ultimately futile. I'll just find creative ways to break your pretty little spirit."

His words were like knives, each one chipping away at my already weakening resolve. I struggled weakly against his hold again, clawing at his arm with my nails, and trying to throw my head back to headbutt him, but it was useless. His grip was like iron, keeping me pressed firmly against his chest as he chuckled in my ear.

I clenched my fists tightly, my knuckles turning white as I swallowed the fear and anger swelling in my chest. "I'll never give in to you," I bit out, my voice wavering slightly. "You can threaten me, but I won't break."

"We'll see about that, pretty bird," he replied, his hand moving from my chin and sliding to the back of my neck, his fingers gripping my hair and tugging it so that my head was forced backwards against his shoulder. "Everyone breaks eventually. It's just a matter of finding the right pressure point. And I guarantee you; I'll find yours."

With those words, he shifted, releasing my hair and wrapping an arm around my waist while his other reached down to take the reins of the horse as it danced nervously beneath us. "We're heading home, " he called out. " Stay alert for any signs of trouble."

The men around us nodded, their expressions shifting into serious determination in the span of seconds. They had clearly been through this routine before, and their focus shifted to their surroundings, their eyes scanning the forest for any signs of danger as we started to move as one.

The horse beneath us trotted along steadily, its hooves clopping against the dirt of the road as it carried us further away from the wreckage of my carriage and my old life.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as the feeling of The Overlord behind me, the press of his muscular thighs against my bottom, his strong arm holding me in a firm and unyieldingly holed against his body like a steel band… all of it combined, making me lose any hope that I would ever be found and rescued.

As the thought entered my mind, I had to fight the urge to struggle again, to try to get away and escape, knowing that it was useless… for now. I tried to assess the situation, my thoughts racing with questions like "where is he taking me?" and "what does he want from me?"

I knew in my heart what the answers were to those questions, but my head was taking its sweet time catching up. In that moment all I know was… I would find a way to escape him… I had to.

We rode for what felt like hours, the steady rhythm of the horse's gait and the strong arms holding me in place lulling me into a half-dazed stupor. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and my head was throbbing with a dull, persistent pain from my earlier injury, and I soon found myself trying to nod off in his arms.

The other men rode in a loose formation around us, their eyes occasionally lingering on me with interest and hunger that grew harder to ignore with each passing moment.

The Overlord remained quiet, his grip on me never once loosening as we rode, seemingly almost completely unfazed by the distance as the hours passed by without any sign of fatigue.

The sun began to dip lower in the sky, bathing the landscape in a hazy golden hue. The trees surrounding us grew thicker, the road narrow and barely visible now, and the sound of rushing water became prominent, growing louder and louder the further we rode.

Finally, through the trees ahead, the shape of a large encampment came into view, a cluster of eight well-built log buildings on the bank of a large river that snaked through the area ending in a high waterfall surrounded by tall trees and flowers.

There were platforms connecting the banks of the river to one another making maneuvering from area to area easier, and higher up in the trees there were dozens of homes made from various types of wood that blended so well with their surroundings I wouldn’t have noticed them if not for the dimly glowing lights coming from their open doorways and windows.

I couldn't deny being impressed by the beauty, sheer size and layout of the place. The buildings were sturdily built, blending almost seamlessly with the trees and foliage around them, and the waterfall provided fresh water and protection. It was the perfect place to build a home.

"Impressive, isn't it?" The Overlord murmured in my ear, a hint of smugness in his tone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response when he clearly wanted one. Instead, I simply stared ahead, taking in details as we drew closer.

The encampment was well-maintained and obviously cared for, the paths between buildings swept free of any debris, the logs of the buildings clean and polished.

There were men, women and children moving around, tending to tasks like feeding livestock, repairing gear, cooking food over open fires, and patrolling the perimeter. Many of them had noticed our approach, their curious gazes on me, taking in my disheveled appearance and my position perched in The Overlord's lap with his arms around me.

The looks I received ranged from curious to leering to almost hostile, making me acutely aware of the fact that I stood out like a sore thumb amongst these people. I squirmed, uncomfortable and vulnerable beneath their gazes, but The Overlord’s arms simply tightened, keeping me firmly in place as he led the horse towards a large building at the center of the encampment.

The two-story structure was imposing and impressive with a wraparound porch and several columns, its wood dark and solid against the background of the green trees and flowers. Climbing vines covered one whole side of the building, bright orange and yellow flowers blooming among the dark green leaves giving it a warm and inviting look.

The Overlord dismounted in front of it with easy grace, his hands sliding over my hips, his grip tight and unyielding, as he effortlessly lifted me off the horse and settled me on my feet. His tall, muscular form was like a solid wall beside me as he grabbed my hand and led me towards the building without bothering to acknowledge the youth that ran up to take the reins of the massive horse to lead it away.

I stumbled a bit as he dragged me along beside him, both from my head injury and the unfamiliarity of moving after sitting for several hours on a horse, but he simply adjusted his grip, his strong arm coming around my waist to hold me upright as he pulled me along beside him towards the house’s stairs.

A ripple of whispers and hushed comments followed us as we walked, and I could hear a few of the whispered comments clearly.

"Is that the Overlord's new toy?"

"Where did he find her?"

"She’s so ugly… why would he want her?"

I bit my lip, trying to ignore their whispers and comments, but I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment and anger with each one, the idea of being referred to as a "toy" and “ugly” making me bristle.

"Pay them no mind," The Overlord murmured in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "They're just curious about the new addition to the camp. It's natural that they'd be intrigued."

I didn't reply, too focused on keeping up with his long strides as he led me up the steps of the building and through the huge wooden doors.

The interior was just as solid and beautiful as the outside with high ceilings, walls and floors made of strong oak planks, and furniture that looked handmade from strong, durable wood and leather. A massive fireplace flanked a staircase that led up to an open balcony overlooking the main hall.

The walls were lined with weapons of all types, from swords to daggers to bows, and the air was heavy with the scent of wood, smoke, and something else… something musky and spicy that seemed to cling to The Overlord's skin and clothing.

His hand remained possessively on my lower back, guiding me forward as he led me down a long corridor and into a room with beautifully made furniture.

The room was spacious and well-lit with several large windows that were uncovered revealing a breathtaking view of the waterfall and the lush forest beyond. There was a large bed with thick furs and blankets piled on it and a massive fireplace on the far wall, the stone mantle carved with intricate designs depicting animals and plants. The fire within crackled and popped, casting a warm glow on the walls.

The room was… cozy, luxurious and warm, almost inviting, and yet the sight of it caused a shiver of dread to run down my spine. It was clear this was where he intended me to stay for the foreseeable future, but instead of being comforted by the thought, I felt a sense of confinement and loss, like a bird in a golden cage.

The Overlord shut the door behind us, the sound seeming to echo off the walls and causing me to flinch. I turned to look at him, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more intimate, as he turned to face me, his eyes sweeping over me like he was appraising my reaction.

He chuckled softly at whatever he saw on my face. "What? Not what you were expecting?"

I took a steady breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "No."

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And what were you expecting, hmm? A small, dark dungeon? With rusty chains and a dirty cot?" He chuckled again when I didn’t answer, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from my face before running a finger lightly over the cut on my forehead.

"This is my home, and these," he murmured, his tone low and smooth as he gestured to the room, "… are my quarters, and from now on, they will be yours as well."

The thought sent a shiver down my spine, the idea of remaining here, in his personal rooms with him, for an uncertain period of time while he did whatever he wanted to me, making the helplessness in my gut surge stronger.

How could I escape if I was forced to sleep beside him every night?

He noticed the look of dread that must have crossed my face, and he chuckled again, his expression amused, "Don't worry," he murmured, leaning in closer to me. "I won't bite...much. At least not at first."

I bristled at the remark, my eyes narrowing as I took a small step backwards, trying to put some distance between us, but he simply followed until my back hit a wall.

He placed his hands on the wall on either side of my head, his body pressing fully against mine and trapping me between his hard frame and the solid wood behind me. He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body through my clothing, could smell the musk and leather and something darker, wilder coming off his skin… and despite my uncertainty I felt… something pool in my core.

"You seem so scared, pretty bird," he murmured, leaning down until his lips were a mere inch from my own. "Is the thought of sharing my bed that terrifying to you?"

"I'd rather sleep on the cold ground than share a bed with you," I bit out, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to remain calm.

He chuckled as he leaned in until his hot breath ghosted over my neck as he responded, "My bed is much more comfortable than the cold ground… and much warmer, I assure you."

I swallowed, my heart racing faster as he nuzzled against the sensitive skin of my neck, his nose tracing a path along my pulse point before he licked my skin.

"I'm a generous man…" he continued, his lips brushing against my ear, "I will take good care of you, worship every inch of you, take you so well all you will be able to think about is me… I promise you that."

I shuddered against him; his words making me feel trapped and vulnerable. "I… don't want your care," I managed to say, my voice shaking, "And I don't want you to touch me…"

"You say that now, but I have a feeling I can change your mind." His lips grazed over my jawline, his teeth nipping at my earlobe as he added huskily, "I'm very persistent."

"I… I won't give in," I whispered, my voice trembling as I turned my face away, "I refuse to let you touch me."

He paused, his lips still against my skin, and let out a scoff, the sound deep and mocking. "You say that now, but let's see how long you last… how long it takes you to break before you're begging me to touch you, to make you feel good, to make you scream my name…"

Before I could even think of a response a soft knock sounded on the door.

The Overlord lifted his head; his hands still braced on the wall and his eyes still locked on mine with an intensity that was unnerving. He turned his head, calling out a low, "Enter," in an authoritative and cold voice, but didn’t move from his position, keeping me pinned between him and the wall.

The door slowly opened, revealing a tall man with dark hair and bright green eyes standing in the doorway, a hint of surprise on his face flashing on his handsome face when he saw The Overlord's position against me.

I tried to catch my breath, turning my face away from the man to look out the window, my mind still reeling from the sudden interruption but grateful for the temporary respite, even if it was only for a moment.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Apologies for the interruption, Overlord, but one of your men said the lady might need a doctor."

The Overlord didn't move for a moment, his eyes on my face, his expression unreadable before he asked in a low, cold voice, "Is that so?"

He nodded, shifting his weight slightly, his eyes darting between the two of us with a hint of curiosity, "Yes, sir," he replied finally, his voice cautious yet respectful. "She has a head injury that should probably be looked at."

The Overlord let out a sigh as he finally pulled back and stepped away from me. "Very well. Tend to her then."

The doctor nodded, his eyes flicking to me before he spoke, "Do you... wish to be present while I look over her?"

There was a long moment of silence before The Overlord responded, his voice flat and expressionless, "Yes," he said, his gaze still on me, "I'll be present."

The doctor nodded and came closer, taking in my disheveled appearance with a worried expression as he sat a small bag down beside his feet. "Hello ma'am," he murmured, his voice soft but professional, "May I examine you?"

I nodded, feeling a wave of discomfort as The Overlord stood off to the side, watching the interaction with an intensity that I could feel even though I refused to look at him.

"Can you follow my finger?"

I nodded again, forcing myself to focus on the doctor’s finger as he moved it back and forth several times. The movement made my head throb and ache, but I forced myself to keep my gaze steady.

After a moment, he nodded, satisfied. "That's good," he murmured, before reaching for my chin, gently tilting my head up and examining the cut on my forehead with long, cool fingers. "It's not too deep," he murmured, "It just needs to be cleaned."

He reached down and pulled out a cloth and some type of medicine from his bag, and I couldn’t help but flinch when he brought the cloth to my forehead, the medicine he had put on it stinging the cut.

I felt, rather than saw, The Overlord step closer as if to stop the doctor or reprimand him for unintentionally hurting me, and I froze, eyes darting his way as I waited to see what he would do.

The doctor noticed as well, his gaze flicking to The Overlord briefly, as he swallowed, "It's just antiseptic," he murmured, his voice soft, "It will prevent infection and won't damage the skin."

The Overlord's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he stepped back once more, returning to his position leaning against the wall and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

The doctor's hands were gentle as he continued to clean the wound, his touch careful but efficient. He was clearly a very good doctor, a good man, and the thought that he worked for The Overlord only served to make me resentful.

Had The Overlord taken him against his will also? And if so, why hadn’t he tried to escape?

The doctor finished up quickly, bandaging the cut, then sat back, taking in my appearance and the tension that seemed to fill the room. "Her head injury isn't severe, and she should be fine, but a minor concussion can still cause other symptoms. I recommend pain medication, and she'll need rest."

The Overlord nodded, his gaze still on me, his expression unreadable.

The doctor looked between the two of us, a flush spreading across his high cheekbones, before adding, "Also… she should avoid any physical activity for the next few days. No strenuous activity or, ah… strenuous exercise."

The Overlord's gaze darkened, a hint of a dangerous smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he responded, "Is that so?"

The doctor nodded firmly, his cheeks flushing darker, "Well... yes," he said tentatively, avoiding eye contact with the Overlord. "She should not be doing anything that, ah… causes her to get physically exerted until the concussion has fully healed..."

The Overlord let out a scoff, his eyes flicking towards me as he pushed off the wall and slowly approached the doctor. "And how long will that be...?"

"W-well," the doctor said, a look of anxiety crossing his face as he took a step back, his voice slightly shaky when he spoke, "Usually it's about a week for a minor concussion to completely heal..."

The Overlord's expression remained unreadable as he came within a few feet of the doctor. "A week, you say...?" he asked, his voice smooth and low, "So she'll be out of commission for a week, then…?"

The doctor swallowed hard, his shoulders tense as he hesitantly met the Overlord's gaze and took another step back until his back hit the wall. "Yes, sir," he replied his voice still shaky, "That is my recommendation."

The Overlord was less than a foot away from the doctor now; his tall, muscular frame looming over the shorter man as he brought his hands up and pressed them against the wall on either side of the doctor’s head.

The doctor remained frozen against the wall, his hands still clutching the cloth and medicine as he swallowed hard, his eyes unable to look away from The Overlord.

"I see." The Overlord looked almost amused as he reached out, grasping the front of the doctor's shirt and pulling him forward until they were mere inches apart. "You'll just have to take her place until she’s healed then," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

The doctor's eyes widened in shock, the items in his hands falling to the floor as his face went pale and he stuttered, "W-what...? But I… you said we wouldn’t—"

The Overlord's grip on his shirt tightened, the fabric straining beneath his fingers as a dangerous glint appeared in his crimson eyes. "You heard me," he said, his voice commanding, "I have needs so… until she is healed, you will be filling in for her in... every capacity."

When the doctor let out a strangled whimper The Overlord leaned in until his lips were an inch from the doctor’s and purred, "Come now, doctor, it’s not like you haven’t done this before."

My mind reeled as I watched their exchange, my face flushing just as red as the doctor’s as I realized exactly what The Overlord was implying. It was clear this doctor knew The Overlord on a personal level, but… how personal? And if it was as personal as I was thinking then why did The Overlord need me?

The doctor's face flushed with embarrassment, and his eyes darted to mine briefly as he responded, "But… is that really necessary—"

The Overlord cut him off with a scoff, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he took a step forward and pressed the doctor fully against the wall. "Of course it's necessary," he snapped, his voice still deceptively calm, "Did you really think I would go without a warm hole to stick my cock in just because she’s injured?"

The doctor's flushed face turned almost crimson as he protested weakly, "But sir… Sylus, please… surely you must have someone who can fill in for me, I don't have the time, and you said that we—"

"You will make the time," The Overlord growled, his hand twisting the fabric so tightly that the doctor let out a small gasp of pain. "You don't have a choice in the matter. Now I suggest you shut your mouth before I put it to better use… right here… in front of her."

The doctor paled at the threat, his eyes darting nervously from The Overlord to me and back again, "Please, Sylus… I—"

The Overlord released his grip on the man's shirt and gently traced a finger across his cheek and jawline before wrapping his big hand around the doctor’s throat and squeezing lightly. "Now, now," he murmured, his voice almost soothing, "Don't worry… I promise I'll be gentle, and you know I always take care of what's mine."

I watched in shock, my heart hammering in my chest.

The possessive way The Overlord was acting, the intimate way he spoke to and touched the doctor… it was like he owned the man body and soul, and he had no qualms about reminding him of that fact.

I felt a strange churning in my stomach as my mind flooded with questions: Who was the doctor to him? How did he know The Overlord’s real name? What did The Overlord mean by "I always take care of what's mine?" Was the doctor… his? Was he really going to be forced to do the things I suspected he would have to?

The doctor nodded shakily, his voice almost a whisper as he responded, "Yes, sir..."

The Overlord chuckled softly, his hand still on the doctor's neck, his thumb resting just above his Adams apple. "Good," he murmured, his grip loosening ever so slightly, "I knew you'd understand." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the doctor's ear and adding in a low, seductive voice, "You do remember what I like, don't you?"

The doctor shivered visibly, a mix of fear and arousal flashing across his face as he swallowed hard, "I... do..."

The Overlord grinned, his hand slowly sliding down the doctor's chest before coming to rest above the waistband of his leather pants. "Good… I'm sure you won't disappoint me then, will you?"

The doctor's face flushed even darker, and he shook his head, his voice almost a whisper, "No, Sylus… never..."

The Overlord chuckled and nodded, tucking his fingers into the doctor’s waistband and pulling him closer to press a quick kiss against the man’s lips. "I'll hold you to that, Zayne." He took a step back, his gaze flicking towards me before settling back on the smaller man. "You know what to do," he said, his voice sharp and authoritative. "I’ll join you in a moment."

The doctor nodded quickly, his face still flushed, and made a hasty exit, the door closing softly behind him as he left.

The room was suddenly quiet again, the only sounds being the ticking of a clock somewhere, the crackling of the fire in the fireplace, and the noises of the encampment through the open windows.

The Overlord's eyes flicked to me, a smug, satisfied smirk on his face as he observed my reaction. "You look surprised, pretty bird."

I quickly schooled my features to remain neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my bewilderment at what had just unfolded in front of me. However, inside, my mind was racing. "Shouldn't I be?" I replied coolly. "I mean, I just watched you... threaten your doctor into sleeping with you."

The Overlord's eyes glinted with amusement as he sauntered over to where I was sitting, his steps slow and measured. "My doctor, my property," he said, coming to a stop in front of me. "He knows his place."

I clenched my jaw, biting back a sharp retort. "And what exactly is his place?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice level.

He chuckled softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from my face, his touch surprisingly light. "Underneath me," he replied, his voice smooth as silk.

The simple answer sent a shiver down my spine and had my stomach twisting into knots. "Seems like he doesn't have a choice in the matter," I said, my voice growing sharper despite my best efforts.

He chuckled again, his thumb tracing a slow path over my bottom lip. "Choice?" he replied, his tone almost mocking. "No, he doesn't. Not when it comes to me. He belongs to me… mind, body and soul. And so will you."

The words hung heavily in the air, an undeniable promise.

I could feel the weight of his gaze, the possessiveness in his eyes as he looked down at me, and I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I snapped, "And what makes you think I'll ever 'belong' to you?"

He smirked, his hand drifting lower to cup my chin and tilting my head back so I was forced to look up at him. "Oh, you will," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Make no mistake, pretty bird. I always get what I want… and I want you."

"I won't make it easy for you," I muttered stubbornly, my voice shaking just a bit.

He laughed, his gaze flicking over my features before he leaned in until his face was just inches from mine. "Oh, I don't want easy," he murmured, his thumb brushed over my lips again, his touch almost caressing. "Easy is boring. I want you fighting me every step of the way," he continued, his voice a low purr. "I want you struggling, resisting, but ultimately… surrendering."

"I will never surrender to you," I bit out.

His eyes darkened with amusement, his smile becoming sly as his thumb slid down to brush against my pulse, his touch almost like a loving caress even though it was anything but. "Oh, but you will," he murmured. "You may be resisting now, but in the end, you'll realize that fighting only prolongs the inevitable."

"Why?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. "Why me? Why do you want me so badly? There must be plenty of people willing to… be with you."

The Overlord's expression darkened at my question, his grip on my chin tightening slightly as his eyes flicked over my face, taking in every detail. "There are plenty of people who want me, of course," he replied, his voice low and quiet. "But none of them… measure up to you. You're a challenge, pretty bird. You're feisty, you're defiant, you're unafraid. You're different. And I find that intriguing."

He lowered his head and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth before pulling away and stepping back, throwing his parting words over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "For now, you have a reprieve… but soon, pretty bird… soon I’ll have you under me, begging for everything I can give you."

The implication of his words sent a strange shiver of both anticipation and fear through me, and I couldn't help the way my heartbeat quickened at the almost feral tone of his voice.

The moment the door closed behind him, the tension drained from my body, and I let out a shaky exhale. I stared blankly ahead trying to process everything I just witnessed… the conversation between The Overlord and his doctor, the possessive way he had spoken to the man… to me… it all felt surreal.

I slowly got to my feet, pacing back and forth, trying to gain some control over my thoughts and the strange flutter in my stomach.

Why was I feeling so off-balance? Why did The Overlord being so possessive cause both anger and an unwelcome stirring of excitement to surge through me? Why did the thought of him taking both his doctor and I at the same time cause a strange surge of heat between my thighs? And why didn’t that bother me as much as it should have?

The thoughts swirling in my head left me feeling both confused and troubled and suddenly I couldn't stay here. I was too restless, too frustrated. Everything that had just happened was too much to process at once... I needed to do something, anything but just sit here and wait to be taken… wait to be…

I glanced towards the door, the thought of trying to escape briefly flitting through my mind, but as my eyes fell on the massive oak door, I knew the attempt would be hopeless. Even if I could somehow get past it and the guards no doubt stationed around the encampment, I had no idea where I was, the best way to get out of the camp, and I was injured.

No, I needed to come up with a plan or I would end up dead and rotting on the forest floor ten steps outside the door.

As I stood there, contemplating my next move, a sound caught my attention. A thud, followed by a low moan as something hit the wall beside me. Curiosity getting the better of me, I pressed my ear against the smooth wood to try to decipher the source of the sound.

The moan came again, a little louder this time, and then a low growl followed by skin slapping against skin.

It took me a moment to recognize the sounds for what they were, and the realization had my eyes widening and my face turning bright red at the knowledge that I was inadvertently eavesdropping on an intimate moment between the doctor and The Overlord.

The sound of their labored breaths and guttural moans made it impossible for me to not listen, not to wonder... I couldn't believe what I was hearing, the fact that I could hear them… being intimate.

My face felt as if it was burning and my stomach twisted, but a strange and unfamiliar part of me was almost... intrigued. My mind filled with a mental image of what was happening on the other side of the wall, and I suddenly had the urge to see for myself...

… but I forced myself to stay still, even as another moan sounded through the wall and made my heart start pounding and a light sheen of sweat break out on my forehead.

The sounds continued, growing louder, the walls seeming to close in around me and making it hard to think past the blood pounding in my ears. My imagination kept painting vivid pictures in my mind and heat continued to curl low in my stomach, the thoughts and sounds almost becoming too much to ignore, too much to think about...

... until a sharp "Ah... please… Sylus" came from the room next to mine, the sound of it so loud it sent a bolt of heat straight down my spine.

The sound caused me to inhale and press my hand to my stomach, my heart beating double-time and my breathing almost coming out in pants.  I hated my reaction, the way just hearing their voices was causing my body to respond. What was wrong with me? Why was I so affected by this, why was I still listening…

Another low moan sounded through the wall followed by a deep guttural growl, and suddenly I couldn't listen any longer. I pushed away from the wall and rushed over to the opposite side of the room, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

It continued for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the doctor and The Overlord, the sounds of skin against skin, the low, possessive growl I could almost imagine from The Overlord.

I was feeling almost… jealous. No… no it couldn't be that.

… Could it?

My eyes darted to the window, to the trees swaying outside in the soft nighttime breeze, trying to find something to distract me, but the image of The Overlord with the doctor had been burned into my brain, his face, his eyes, the way he would look, the way he sounded as he…

I buried my face in my hands and let out a sigh…

How was I going to survive him?

Part 2

Smoke burned his lungs as he tried to gasp in air. His body hurt like hell, and he couldn’t feel his right arm. His head spun and his ears started to ring. Caleb struggled to his feet, vision blurring as he thought he saw people dressed in black approach the rubble he was trapped under. Before he could say anything, it all went dark. 

Caleb screamed in agony, fighting against the evol cancelling restraints. Scientists with tools fiddled with his right arm, making him metal braces and prosthetics. It hurt so much. Caleb screamed again, clawing at nothing. He tried to reach out for his evol but nothing happened. 

The chip was worse. They were cruel enough to keep him awake as they implanted it. A test of pain tolerance, they said. Caleb knew the truth. They just liked to hear people scream. EVER, the damned professor, the Fleet, Caleb didn’t know who to blame anymore. His throat was raw from screaming.

“Stop it!” Caleb jolted up, breathing fast and hard. He clawed at his hair, pulling and tugging. His heart pounded and cold sweat dripped down his back. It was dark, and he couldn’t recognize the sight of his room. His body wracked with shudders and quiet sobs. Theroom was too dark and too quiet, reminding him of dark isolation chambers. 

He reached under his pillow with his mostly numb right arm, relaxing slightly when his fingers curled around something hard—the handle of one of his guns. The other was hidden away in case of emergencies. Even though he could tell there was something in his fist, the lack of sensation in the heavily modified limb meant the familiar cold creeping from the metal of the gun was missing, so he switched it to his left hand. Caleb needed to feel something. He shivered and shuddered, his hands shaking. 

His chest hurt. He couldn’t breathe properly. There was too little and too much noise all at once. The walls were closing in on him, and if he shut his eyes he’d be plunged into a deeper darkness. The chip sent pain through him as his emotions kept rising. 

Pain, pain, pain, pain…

Pain is all Caleb had ever been in. He grit his teeth. When would the pain end? He wanted it so stop! Why wouldn’t it stop!? He felt like he was drowning and he couldn’t swim. The gun fell to the floor as he ripped his night shirt off, clawing at his chest and where the metal merged with skin on his shoulder. More pain. 

At least it was him and not her. That thought alone was all that grounded him as the agony running through his body threatened to drag him back into that kaleidoscope of all the worst moments of his life. Another broken sob escaped him. He cursed EVER for taking him as a child. He cursed them for blowing him up and taking him back and turning him into this weapon. He hated it. He hated it. He hated it! 

The burden of it all—the pain, the horrors, the secrets—threatened to break him but there was nothing he could do but bear it. He couldn’t bother Pips,he made a promise not to. He was supposed to be the one to carry everything, to protect her from what she couldn’t fight against. Besides, Pips had just gotten home with Xavier from a long mission, and Caleb refused to wake her up. If she saw him like this, she’d panic and ask questions he didn’t want to answer. Caleb had always been the strong one, the one to shoulder the pain and burdens of the world for her. He’d never allow her to see him breaking down. It just couldn’t happen. 

Pain jolted through him, and his fingertips came back red. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to see the blood from scratching and pulling at the metal. He grimaced and angrily scratched harder. Pain was nothing anymore. It was so frequent he’d gotten good at ignoring it. More blood coated his fingers. 

Screams echoed in his mind, followed by flashes of electricity and those cruel, cruel bastards. The EVER logo ever present in the background. Caleb hated them. He wanted to crush them under the weight of his gravity, throw them into the deepest, darkest black hole he could muster. Or maybe he’d simply blow every EVER lab and building he could find. 

“y…ey…h’y…HEY!” A hand smacked him, his head jerking to the side. Purple eyes widened and locked onto blue-pink ones, reflecting his own sweat-drenched face back at him. Rafayel frowned, the arch of his eyebrows and the twist of his lip spoke of anger, likely at being woken up in the middle of the night, but there was a faint trace of concern in his eyes too. “Snap out of whatever crisis you’re going through. Some of us need to sleep.” 

“What are you—” Rafayel was cut off by Caleb lunging at him, hands wrapping around his throat, cutting off air supply. The Lemurian sea god coughed, eyes glowing a deep blue as scales formed on his face. Before he could summon a sea spirit or a rush of water, the room got cold, too cold, and Caleb was pulled off of him. 

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel spat, gasping for air and coughing. He rubbed his throat, already mourning the makeup he’d have to use to cover up finger shaped bruises. Hiscomplaints were cut off when he saw the state Caleb was in, eyes wild and panicked, body quivering and shaking, blood on his hands and shoulder. 

“Hey, hey,” Zayne soothed, holding Caleb tightly. “Calm down, they can’t hurt you anymore. You’re not there anymore.” He gently cupped Caleb’s face in his hands, the cold grounding Caleb. “You’re home. With me. With us. Breathe.” 

“Make it stop! Make it stop,” Caleb trembled violently, pain shooting through his arm and head. The more he got worked up, the more it hurt. Tears slid down his cheeks, his vision blurred as he tried to focus on Zayne and Rafayel. His chest hurt from hyperventilating.

Mephisto cawed, signalling Sylus’ return from Onychinus business. Caleb barely registered a fourth person in the room, too lost in scenes from years gone by and the feeling of a knife jamming its way through his brain. He vaguely heard Zayne tell Sylus to get the medical kit, a clean cloth, and some water. Gradually, the throbbing in his skull receded and he allowed his head to drop onto Zayne’s shoulder, all the while wishing he could disappear.

Caleb despised showing any kind of weakness, especially around Pips. He certainly didn’t want to have a literal god and a dragon watch him fall apart, the cracks he was usually so good at hiding, gaping open and leaking the ruined pieces of him all over the floor. Zayne was the only one he truly trusted he could break down in front of. Zayne wouldn’t hold his weaknesses over his head for blackmail or manipulations. No, Zayne would never do that to him. 

The doctor frowned when Caleb barely flinched as he cleaned his bloodied shoulder. He was still shuddering violently, his shaky exhales interrupted every so often by a faint sniffle. Zayne didn't have the heart to push Caleb's head from his shoulder,it would help with his visibility and mobility in cleaning his bloodied shoulder, but Caleb's comfort was more important right now. 

“You're safe,” Zayne murmured quietly, feeling cold anger in his chest as he looked at the scars littering Caleb's back and torso. He finished wrapping up Caleb's shoulder and wiping away the blood from his hands. 

“Don't go,” Caleb hissed, clinging to Zayne when the doctor moved to inspect Rafayel's bruised neck.  “Please,” he whispered quietly, the vulnerability in his voice making Zayne's heart clench. 

“I'm not going anywhere. I just need to check on Rafayel,” Zayne spoke gently yet firmly. “I'm right here.” 

Caleb winced as Zayne mentioned Rafayel, vague memories of his hand clenching around the Lemurian’s throat resurfacing. His grip on Zayne loosened, and he was stuck with the desire to sink into the floorboards and away from the watchful eyes in the room. It was a small miracle Pips hadn't woken up with the commotion. 

“What happened?” Sylus' deep timbre echoed in the small space. He sat down on the plush armchair in the corner of the room. The bed was a bit crowded, and the dragon knew Zayne would yell at him if he tried to join them. The doctor needed his space while he treated Rafayel and Caleb. 

Caleb clenched his jaw and looked away. “Just a nightmare,” he muttered bitterly. He didn't need Sylus worrying about him or worse, mocking him. Logically, he knew Sylus probably wouldn't mock him for having a nightmare, but Caleb's mind was too hectic to think logically at the moment. 

Sylus raised an eyebrow, sharing a glance with Rafayel and Zayne. Caleb never liked to talk about what he’d experienced at the hands of EVER and the Fleet. But they all knew where these night terrors originated. The first time Sylus had heard what EVER did to Caleb, he wanted to see the entire organisation reduced to naught but ash, a sentiment Rafayel had echoed.

“Try again, without lying this time,” Sylus drawled, giving Caleb a pointed look. 

Caleb’s frown deepened and he bit the inside of his cheek. If it were anyone else, he would have ignored them and changed the subject. But when it was Sylus or anyone in the polycule, the same rules didn’t apply, and the automatic dismissal died in his throat. Caleb looked down at his fingers, where Zayne was gently cleaning away the blood having already dabbed his shoulder with an antiseptic. 

“...it’s just night terrors. Sometimes it’s about my childhood or other times it’s after the explosion,” Caleb quietly spoke, taking deep breaths and avoiding eye contact. He hated how vulnerable he felt and looked. He was supposed to be the strong one. He…He had to shoulder everything. To keep her safe. To keep the others safe. If they knew everything then they’d…No, Caleb wouldn’t think about that. 

He didn’t notice Sylus and Rafayel sharing a look or the fact Zayne had finished cleaning and tending to his self inflicted wounds. Exhaustion crashed over Caleb, and he struggled to even keep his eyes open. He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to end up back there. 

“Don’t fight it,” someone murmured to him. “Sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.” Caleb let them push him back into laying down, his shoulder twinging faintly in pain. Someone apologized, and then a warmth surrounded him. 

When Caleb woke up hours later, he couldn’t move. Not due to fear or anxiety, but from the fact he was at the bottom of a cuddle pile. Sylus was on his right and Zayne on his left. His head was on Sylus’ shoulder. Blinking away his grogginess, he lifted his head to see Rafayel and Pips on top of him and Xavier sprawled out over his legs. 

A small smile made its way on his face. 

He wasn’t alone anymore. 

For the first time in a long time, Caleb wasn’t afraid or in pain. 

One moment, you were just you, perfectly and wonderfully ordinary, the next, it’d felt like a supernova had gone off inside your chest.

Everything after that was a mess, but one thing was clear: you’d awakened as a sentinel. Or to be more accurate, reawakened.

You’d long known about your dormant abilities, having been given a talk by your parents shortly after they moved you out here. Apparently, your power had first awakened when you were eight and you’d swiftly been drafted into some training programme for promising sentinels, despite being notably younger than most of the other candidates.

Some years later, there was an accident during your training. You'd never been told the specifics, and you certainly didn’t remember anything about it. Or anything before it, for that matter. Whatever terrible incident had befallen had you knocked those memories clean out of your skull and now, nearly a decade later, it seemed unlikely you’d ever recover them.

The first recollection you had was of your parents sobbing by your bedside, promising to pull you from the program while you gazed up at them in bewilderment. Whenever you recalled it though, you couldn’t help but feel like there was something important about the memory lingering in the haze that surrounded it. The barest impression of a hand holding yours,  warmer and smoother than either of your parents’. A vague image of a figure with purple eyes and dark hair being whisked out of the room by men in black suits.

After that, your parents had kicked up enough of a fuss to get you out of the programme, their cause likely helped by the fact the accident had taken your access to your powers along with your memories. Once they’d felt you’d recovered enough to tell you the truth, there’d been murmurs of looking into getting you some sort of private training; a safety net in case your abilities ever reawakened. But they’d stayed murmurs, and the distinct misery in your parents’ expressions whenever the situation was brought up was enough for you not to push for it.

God, you wished you had.

It would never have occurred to you that you might suffer the effects of corruption almost immediately should you become able to use your abilities again, but it was almost like your power resented being kept locked away all this time, and now was determined to make you pay for it.

Another tremor racked your body as the energy in your veins flared, a red haze starting to creep across your vision. Through it, your eyes landed on a glass shard roughly the size of your palm amid the rubble. The edge of it looked lethally sharp, glinting in the dying sunlight. A terrible idea slowly started to take shape in your mind.

You weren't a formally registered sentinel. No one knew you were here, crouched among the wreckage and slowly losing your mind. You had no doubt a properly trained sentinel could take you out after you fully lost control, but how many people would you hurt before then?

They showed it on the news sometimes, the devastation corrupted sentinels left in their wake. The gore of it was censored, of course, but the fatality numbers weren’t. There was only one way you could think of to stop yourself from becoming another one of the horror stories used to scare sentinels and guides alike into taking the threat of corruption seriously.

A sob broke free from your lips. You really, really didn’t want to die.

Not that it mattered much anymore, you could either die here or at the hand of whoever got dispatched to bring you down when you started to rampage. Oh well, if you were going to die anyway, you could at least go out trying to do the right thing.

Ignoring the burn in your muscles, you reached for shard, your fingers just brushing the cool surface when a hand suddenly snatched yours away from it.

With the sunset at their back, it was hard to make out much of the figure now looming over you, save that they were tall with broad set shoulders. Where they'd come from, you didn't know, but given that you could barely hear anything over the pounding of your own heartbeat, it wouldn't exactly have been difficult for them to slip onto the scene unnoticed.

It should have terrified you, being grabbed by a stranger while there was no one else around, but you were already so afraid of what was happening to you, it barely registered. Besides, you weren’t the one in danger here.

"Have to go..." you tried to say, fighting to control your tongue. "Not safe... I'm not safe. I'm losing it."

Instead of taking your advice, however, the stranger—a young man, you realised as you got a better look at him—crouched down before you and wiped some of the splattered black ichor from your cheek.

He said your name, tone warm, but before you could wonder how he knew you, he was shrugging off his jacket and pulling you into his arms. You tried to fight it, but whatever resistance you could put up in your current state proved no match for him and you were soon gathered against his chest.

"You're okay," he murmured, kindly but firmly pressing your face against the skin of his neck, "I've got you. You're gonna be okay."

You might have been inclined to renew your struggles when his other arm slipped up the back of your shirt, except the moment it did, you felt a shift in the power inside you. Where before it'd been a raging inferno, burning through you while you were powerless to stop it, it now felt like there was something pushing against. A helping hand putting the energy inside you back under your control fragment by fragment.

Oh, you realised faintly, he's a guide, he was going for maximum skin contact to try and speed up the process. Relief swept over you like a tidal wave and you relaxed fully into his hold. You didn’t know what miracle had sent a guide your way—and one you must be at least somewhat compatible with, given that he seemed capable of taming the power under your skin—but you were so impossibly grateful, you could feel your eyes watering.

You were going to be okay.

You couldn’t say how long you stayed like that for, being embraced by a stranger amongst the debris. It was long enough, however, for you to register the faint smell of washing powder on his clothes—the same brand you had tucked away in your own cupboards. You found yourself strangely grateful for the odd coincidence, for when you closed your eyes and breathed in, you could pretend you were back home as you trembled from the weight of it all.

Eventually, the horror of what had happened, of what you’d been about to do, faded enough for you to register that your power felt settled. It was strange, before this it had always been some abstract thing you knew you possessed but had no real awareness of. Now though, you could feel it, a slumbering beast that been lulled into submission but would wake back up at your call. As you started to feel more in control of yourself, awareness of your surroundings crept back in.

There were sirens wailing in the distance, accompanied by the odd low groan from the wrecked buildings around you, threatening to collapse completely. The person holding you shifted slightly, and you felt a sudden wash of awkwardness as the reality of being carefully cradled by total stranger set it.

“I um… I think I’m okay now,” you tried to say, the words muffled due to the fact your face was still pressed against his skin.

“Not quite yet. Be good and it’ll just take a little longer.” You fought not to shudder as he rubbed his thumb soothingly back and forth over your shoulder blade. Now that he’d drawn attention to it, you couldn’t help but notice how large his hand felt where it was spread against your back. The longer you were held there, the more you started to notice other things too—namely the way his chest seemed to be a solid wall of muscle and the size of the bicep pushed against your shoulder.

Just as you were starting to feel like you might combust, the stranger finally withdrew his hand from your back with a soft sigh, his hold on your head loosening at the same time. You went to pull away, only to pause when you realised although his hold on you had lightened, it hadn’t vanished entirely, one hand remaining in your hair while the other rested carefully on your hip.

Peering up, you froze as you locked eyes with him. The sun had set almost fully below the horizon, casting the world in a fading orange glow. Twin purple irises watched you carefully, as you took in the strong, sharp features of his face, highlighted by the warm light. His beauty was so striking you were honestly left feeling a little breathless. If this guy didn’t already have work as a guide, he could almost certainly get a gig as a male model.

This guy just pulled you back from the literal brink, you thought, forcing yourself to break eye contact, you have got to get it together.

Finally, the stranger let you go and you shuffled back a little, trying to put a polite amount of space between you. A conflicted expression flickered across his face, his fingers twitching in midair, almost like he was about to reach for you again, but then the moment passed and his arms dropped to his sides.

The state he’d found you in must have put the fear of God into the guy, if he thought you were so at risk of going off the deep end again that he had to keep a constant hold on you.

“I really do feel alright now. Thank you, er…” you let yourself trail off. Even though questions burned away on your tongue, it didn’t feel right to let a borderline interrogation loose on a person who’d just saved your life—and by effectively cuddling you no less.

“I’m Caleb, I’m your guide,” he said the last part like it should mean something, but it only left you more confused. A large number of sentinels didn’t have dedicated guides as far as you knew, that privilege was reserved for those powerful enough for their respective agency or government body to decide they were worth the investment of taking a capable guide away from the rest of their talent pool. And that was without mentioning the crazy high combability score such a decision usually required.

Needless to say, completely unregistered sentinels definitely didn’t get a dedicated guide the first time they went nuclear in the field.

“Er… right.” You followed up by introducing yourself, although as your name left your mouth, you suddenly remembered hearing him say it before while you in the hazy grip of corruption. Maybe you’d imagined it, with the state you were in it wouldn’t have surprised you if you’d been starting to hallucinate back there.

Something in your expression must have given away what you were thinking, as Caleb leaned forward and ruffled your hair.

“It’s okay, no need to tie yourself into knots over it, pip-squeak. We can talk about it more later, right now we need to get out of here. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“I think I’m okay,” you lied. In truth, it felt like your body was hanging together by a prayer, a deep ache having settled into your muscles, as though you’d tried to lift something you shouldn’t have. It didn’t help that you must have lost your hoodie at some point in the commotion, leaving the evening chill to seep into your exposed arms.

Caleb was right though, you should get out here unless you wanted to be dragged away by the authorities and interrogated about your status as an unregistered sentinel. Although why he was choosing to help you when he was clearly a guide who’d been trained by someone who answered to those particular authorities was another question to add to your growing list.  

“I should be alright to—ow!” You tried to stand, only for a sharp, stabbing pain to strike as you attempted to put weight on your ankle.

No sooner had you slumped back to the ground than Caleb was on you, gingerly grasping the back of your foot and angling it so he could get a better look. You took the opportunity to peer at the offending area yourself. You couldn’t remember getting injured, but the events after the monster had appeared were such a blur it was difficult to be sure of anything. There was no blood at least, hopefully it was just sprained and not broken.

“Looks a little swollen,” he said with a slight frown, “it could do with some ice but that’ll have to wait. Don’t try to walk on it, I can carry you. Think you’ll be able to stand with my help?”

“Oh no, you don’t need to-“ you broke off as you realised you could hear the rumble of something nearby.

“That’ll be the first responders. We’ve gotta go. Ready?” Caleb slipped his hands around your upper arms and you were left with little choice but to nod. With him hauling you up, you were able to stand without sending another spasm of pain through your ankle, even if you did have mind your balance as your rested on your other leg.

“Will you be alright if I let go for a sec?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.” You avoided eye contact with him as he stepped away to grab his jacket. This whole situation was so insanely awkward, but you couldn’t help but find yourself missing the warmth of his palms almost immediately as the cool evening air swept back in in his absence.

“Here you go,” he said, turning back and arranging his jacket around your shoulders, “don’t want you catching a chill.”

Before you could offer any form of protest, Caleb turned around and bent down. “Hop on then.”

With less of a hop and more of an awkward shimmy—something which did little to soothe your already tattered pride—you were able to clamber onto his back, aided by his grip on your thighs.

“Hold on tight, okay?”

“Are you really sure you’re alright carrying me?” you asked, as you hesitantly looped your arms over his shoulders.

“Yeah, nothing to it, pip-squeak.” He turned his head back towards you a little and you just caught a glimpse of boyish smile, before Caleb turned his attention back to the task at hand and started to pick his way through the rubble.

You somehow doubted giving another fully grown adult a piggyback while trying to navigate the ruined street was quite as easy as he was making out, but if Caleb was at all slowed down by the extra weight, he didn’t show it.

At first, you studied the landscape around you, taking in the devastation that had been wrought upon this part of the city. There was a row of stores and cafes, all with their fronts smashed in, the chairs and tables that had once been placed outside them reduced to mangled lumps of metal. The building on the opposite side of the street seemed to have partially caved in on itself with vicious black fluid smeared around the site of the damage.

The more you looked, the more you felt a painful squeeze in your chest—the only consolation being that there at least didn’t seem to be any bodies among the rubble. You couldn’t even remember whether the majority of the damage had come from the monster or your own power running wild. Maybe you should be surrendering yourself to the authorities, you thought as you turned your gaze to Caleb’s shoulder, you were a liability at best. And that’s without considering what might have happened if Caleb hadn’t arrived when he did.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked quietly.

“I told you, I’m your guide, that’s what I’m here for.”

Your frustration at another non-answer started to leak into your voice. “I could hurt people, Caleb. Hell, I might have already while fighting that—that thing, I wasn’t exactly in full control back there. And if you hadn’t found me, I-“

“Hey,” he interrupted with a light squeeze to your thighs, “stop beating yourself up back there. No epser’s perfect, even the ones who have proper training mess up sometimes. And besides, what do you think would have happened today if you hadn’t been here? Do you think that monster would have waited politely for another sentinel to show up?”

“I… Well, no,” you admittedly, grudgingly.

“There you go then. And you don’t need to worry about the other thing, I’ll always find you when you need me.” There was such certainty in his voice that you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue with him, even if it seemed a little unrealistic.

“Still though, now that my powers have awakened—” reawakened but you decided you didn’t really want to get into that right now “—shouldn’t I try to sign up with an agency to get some sort of training at least?”

Caleb sucked in a breath through his teeth and his grip on you seemed to tighten a little. “You don’t want to go down that route, those agencies aren’t as above board as the public gets told. They won’t try to help you, they’ll just use you for your power. I might not be an sentinel but I’ve sat in on some of their training. If you really want to learn how to use your powers, I’ll help you and you won’t have to worry about corruption if I’m there.”

“Are you with an agency then? If you know so much.”

“Not anymore,” he replied, his tone shifting to something colder than anything you’d heard from him before. But when he spoke again the change was gone, leaving you to wonder if it’d been nothing more than your imagination. “You should try to get some rest if you can, guiding can get rid of corruption but it doesn’t change the fact you must have burned through a lot of energy taking that monster down by yourself. I’m going to sneak us past the cordon they’ve set up and then I’ll get you home.”

Although you were tempted to try to interrogate him further, Caleb was right, you did feel like you were running on fumes. Even if you hadn’t busted your ankle, you probably wouldn’t have been able to make it this far on your own. The warmth provided by the combination of the heat from Caleb’s back and his jacket keeping the wind off you didn’t help matters either, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open.

It was odd, just a day ago you could never have imagined trusting a complete stranger enough to doze on their back as they carried you, especially not one who raised as many questions as Caleb did with his timely appearance. But for some reason, you felt oddly safe as he snuck the two of you through a narrow back alley to avoid the line of emergency services they’d set up around the edge of the devastation. Was this an aftereffect of being guided by someone? Or were you just so tired that you weren’t thinking properly?

Your head drooped forwards onto his shoulder as you meandered somewhere between waking thought and sleep. Just as you fully started to drift off, something occurred to you.