Chapter 25: The Fracture (Main Character’s Point of View)
Caspian had been perfect.
A flawless nothing.
Mine.
And then someone tried to take him back.
It was laughable, really—the idea that he could return to what he once was.
To who he had been before me.
But as I watched him now, I saw it—
The smallest fracture.
A momentary flicker of doubt.
A whisper of something that should have been long dead.
A thought.
It was weak. Trembling.
A fleeting ember struggling against the weight of its own irrelevance.
But it was there.
And that, I could not allow.
I stepped toward him, my presence cutting through the heavy silence.
Caspian's shoulders twitched—barely, but I saw it.
The smallest sign of hesitation.
The first sign of something not right.
I frowned.
"Caspian."
His name fell from my lips like a command, like a knife poised at the edge of his throat.
I saw the instant reaction.
A sharp inhale—a desperate breath.
His body tensed—and then just as quickly collapsed, every muscle loosening in submission.
Because even now, even with that fragile ember flickering inside him, he still knew—
I was the only thing that mattered.
His head lifted slightly, his dazed, glassy eyes struggling to focus.
There it was again—the fracture.
I could see the remnants of someone else's words lingering in his mind.
Someone else's attempt at pulling him away.
They had spoken to him, hadn't they?
Tried to wake him up.
Tried to remind him of who he had been.
A pointless effort.
But still—
The thought existed.
And that could not be tolerated.
I took another step, closing the space between us, reaching for his chin.
The moment my fingers touched him, he shuddered—but he didn't pull away.
No.
He never pulled away.
Because even now, I was his anchor.
His only truth.
I tilted his face up, forcing his gaze to lock with mine.
His pupils were wide—so wide.
But not from pleasure.
Not from that perfect, blissful nothingness.
No, this was fear.
Fear of what I would see inside him.
Fear that I would find that ember.
That flicker of something other than me.
I smiled, slow and deliberate.
"Who spoke to you?" I asked, voice soft, dangerous.
A sharp breath—his throat bobbed beneath my grip.
He was trembling.
Not resisting.
Not disobeying.
Just afraid.
As he should be.
I tightened my fingers around his jaw, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him—he was mine.
"Caspian," I murmured.
His lashes fluttered—his breath hitched—his entire body shook.
And then—
A fractured whisper.
"A—Aurelien."
Ah.
So that was it.
The loyal little friend who had always hovered at the edges.
The one who had watched, who had waited, who had never quite accepted that Caspian belonged to me now.
It was almost pathetic.
That he thought he could undo this.
That he thought Caspian could ever be anything else.
I hummed, stroking my thumb over his trembling lips.
"And what did he say?"
Caspian exhaled sharply—his whole body tensing, as if even the memory of those words burned him.
"He said—" A shudder ran through him, his breath turning ragged. "He said I should come back."
A foolish thing to say.
Because Caspian had no place to return to.
There was no before.
No other life.
Only this.
Only me.
I leaned down, lips grazing the shell of his ear, voice velvet-soft.
"And do you want to?"
A full-body tremor.
His hands twitched at his sides, but he didn't move.
Didn't try to push me away.
Didn't even try to think.
Because even with that ember flickering inside him, even with Aurelien's foolish attempt at reclaiming him—
Caspian already knew the answer.
I just wanted to hear him say it.
Slowly, I pulled back, my fingers still cradling his jaw, my gaze burning into him.
"Tell me, Caspian."
His breath hitched—his pupils blown wide.
A sharp, fragile inhale—his throat bobbed once more.
And then—
A whisper.
A plea.
A prayer.
"No."
I smiled.
"Good boy."
The sound he made—
A ragged, broken thing—
Something shattered.
Because with just those two words—he was falling again.
The ember—extinguished.
The fracture—sealed.
Because he belonged to me.
Because there was no Caspian D'Argent anymore.
Only mine.
And he would never leave.
Never dare to doubt again.
Because he had learned.
And he would never need anything else.
Chapter 26: The Last Test (Caspian's Point of View)
I should have known Aurelien wouldn't stop.
I should have known he wouldn't accept that I was already lost.
That I had been claimed.
That I had no will beyond hers.
But still, he came again.
And for the first time in so long, something inside me... hesitated.
Not because I wanted to leave.
Not because I wanted to be saved.
But because I feared what would happen when she found out.
Because she always found out.
And the last time, she had been... displeased.
I still felt the ghost of her fingers on my throat, the soft, mocking words she whispered as she undid me—
"Good boy."
The pleasure. The relief. The bliss of surrendering to nothingness.
It had been... perfect.
But I had disappointed her once.
Would I disappoint her again?
Would she take back her kindness?
Would she let me fall into the abyss without catching me?
The thought alone sent a shudder through me.
And Aurelien saw it.
Which was his mistake.
Because he thought it meant hope.
Chapter 27: The Last Rescue Attempt (Main Character's Point of View)
I watched from the shadows, unseen, as Aurelien pressed Caspian against the cold marble wall of the secluded corridor.
His hands were firm on Caspian's arms, his voice desperate.
"Caspian, listen to me."
Caspian flinched at the tone, at the demand.
At the very idea that he was meant to think.
But Aurelien didn't let go.
"You don't have to live like this," he insisted. "You don't have to belong to her."
A cruel smile tugged at my lips.
Foolish boy.
Caspian wasn't living.
Caspian wasn't himself.
Caspian wasn't mine.
And that was exactly what he needed to be.
Because he didn't function outside of my will.
He had no purpose outside of my hands.
And I had already proven that.
Yet Aurelien still tried.
He still clung to the idea that there was something left to salvage.
That I had not already burned him down to ashes.
"Caspian, please," he whispered. "I know you. I know who you used to be. You can come back."
Slowly, I stepped forward.
Caspian's breath hitched before he even saw me.
Because he felt it.
Felt me.
Felt the weight of my gaze, the inevitability of my presence.
And then, when his wide, dazed eyes finally met mine—
He collapsed.
Falling to his knees, trembling, shoulders shaking with relief.
The relief of not having to think anymore.
The relief of being mine.
I smiled.
"Aurelien," I murmured, watching the flicker of fear cross his face.
He had seen it now.
Understood it now.
That Caspian had never been rescuable.
Because Caspian had already chosen.
I tilted my head, stepping closer, letting my presence press down on him like a weight.
"Did you really think you could take him from me?" I asked, my voice soft, almost amused.
Aurelien swallowed hard.
"I just—" His gaze flickered down to Caspian, still trembling at my feet. "I just wanted to remind him—"
"Of what?" I interrupted smoothly, stroking a hand through Caspian's silver hair. "Who he used to be?"
I crouched beside him, pulling his head up, forcing his glassy, worshipful eyes to meet mine.
"Tell me, Caspian."
A shudder ran through him.
"Do you remember?"
Silence.
He stared, lips parted, but no words came.
I traced his cheek with my fingers, my touch featherlight.
"Try."
His brow furrowed slightly. He took a slow, shuddering breath—
And then—
Nothing.
No name.
No past.
No before.
His lips trembled. His breathing turned unsteady.
And then, slowly—
A single whisper.
"…I don't."
His voice broke on the words, something inside him fracturing completely.
I smiled.
Aurelien staggered back.
Because he saw it now.
The last piece of Caspian's resistance, of his identity, of whatever fragile remnant of self had still clung to him—
Gone.
Erased.
Destroyed.
Replaced.
By me.
I brushed a hand down Caspian's cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, the lingering shivers that coursed through him.
And then I leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.
"Good boy."
A sharp inhale—his body convulsed.
And just like that—he shattered.
His hands gripped the hem of my dress, his breathing erratic, his entire body curling toward me as if I were the only thing keeping him alive.
Which, of course—
I was.
I stroked his hair once more before lifting my gaze back to Aurelien.
He was staring at Caspian like he didn't recognize him.
Like he didn't understand what he had just witnessed.
Like he had just realized he had never stood a chance.
I rose to my feet, my movements slow, deliberate.
"This was the last time," I told him, my voice soft, final.
Aurelien's jaw clenched, his hands trembling at his sides.
He opened his mouth—then shut it.
Because there was nothing left to say.
Nothing left to save.
Nothing left of Caspian to bring back.
I turned, gently tugging on the silver leash wrapped around Caspian's collar, feeling his shudder of pleasure as he immediately followed, his every step shadowing mine.
Obedient.
Silent.
Mine.
Aurelien did not try again.
Because there was no Caspian D'Argent anymore.
There was only this—
The perfect nothing of a man who no longer needed to think.
Only to serve.
Only to belong.
Only to me.
Chapter 28: The Hunger of Devotion (Caspian's Point of View)
It wasn't enough.
No matter how much I gave, no matter how deeply I surrendered, it wasn't enough.
I had thought I knew devotion.
Had thought I had unraveled entirely, piece by agonizing piece, until there was nothing left but her will and the absolute, unquestioning obedience that came with it.
But I was wrong.
Because even now, kneeling at her feet, eyes cast downward, hands trembling with restrained need—
There was a hunger inside me.
A gnawing, desperate void that clawed at my chest and refused to be sated.
I had once feared punishment.
Had once flinched at her displeasure, at the mere thought of failing her.
But now?
Now, I longed for it.
Now, I ached for it.
Not because I wanted forgiveness.
Not because I sought atonement.
But because I needed to feel her hands strip me down further.
To remind me that I had nothing left to hold onto.
To prove that I had truly, fully, irreversibly become hers.
And yet, she had not given it.
Had not touched me with pain.
Had only given me praise.
And it was killing me.
Because I knew I could be more.
Knew I could fall further.
If only she would push me.
If only she would break me again.
If only she would ruin me completely.
Chapter 29: The Perfect Servant? (Main Character's Point of View)
I noticed it immediately.
The way he trembled without cause.
The way his breath hitched with every moment of silence.
The way his fingers curled against his thighs as if resisting the urge to reach for something—
For me.
Something was wrong.
Or rather—
Something was missing.
For all his perfection, all his obedience, there was a new kind of desperation in Caspian's posture.
Not the panic of a man still clinging to himself.
No—he was far past that.
This was something deeper.
Something hunger-stricken.
And when I trailed a single finger along his jaw, watching the way he trembled at the faintest touch—
I finally understood.
Ah.
So that was it.
He had become too perfect.
Too good.
And now, he was starving for more.
A slow smile spread across my lips.
I had been too kind, hadn't I?
Had given him too much ease, too much pleasure, too much comfort in his devotion.
And now, my poor, ruined Caspian was left aching for something sharper.
Something crueler.
Something that would remind him that he was still capable of being destroyed.
I traced my fingers through his silver hair, tilting his face up toward mine.
His breath hitched, pupils blown wide with something between relief and fear.
"Something's wrong, isn't it?" I murmured, letting my voice dip into something softer—mocking.
He shuddered, unable to speak.
I pressed my thumb against his lower lip, feeling the way he trembled beneath the touch, the way his breath turned shallow, the way he leaned ever so slightly forward—
As if he wanted to beg.
"You're not satisfied," I continued, tilting my head as if in pity. "Poor thing."
He whimpered.
A soft, broken sound that made heat bloom in my chest.
"Have I been too kind to you, Caspian?"
His breathing stuttered.
"Have I made things too easy?"
A sharp inhale—his fingers twitched against his thighs.
I leaned in closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Do you need me to remind you of your place?"
A full-body shudder.
And then—
"Yes."
A single word, rasped, hoarse, needy.
I smiled.
And just like that—he was mine all over again.
Chapter 30: His Suffering, My Pleasure (Main Character's Point of View)
I let the silence stretch between us, savoring the way he shivered beneath my touch.
His body was already taut, breath uneven, fingers curled so tightly into fists that his knuckles had turned white.
Waiting.
Anticipating.
But this time, I wouldn't let him have it so easily.
This time, he needed to understand.
His suffering—his pain—his unraveling—
It wasn't about him.
It never had been.
I smoothed my thumb over his trembling lower lip, watching the way his breath hitched at even the softest touch.
"Such a good pet," I murmured, trailing my fingers down his throat, feeling the way his pulse thrummed wildly beneath my touch. "So obedient. So eager."
He swallowed hard.
I could see the conflict in his eyes, the way need and fear tangled together, pulling him in opposite directions.
Good.
I wanted him there—right on the precipice.
"I wonder," I mused, tilting his chin up with a single finger. "Do you even know why you're so desperate?"
A soft, shuddering inhale.
His lips parted—then closed again.
He didn't know.
Not fully.
Not yet.
I leaned in, letting my breath ghost against his ear, letting my voice drop into something lower, silkier, crueler.
"You're not begging because you want relief," I whispered. "You're begging because you want me to take it away from you."
A sharp, choked gasp.
His fingers twitched, body tensing—
And I felt it.
The last remnants of his restraint—his resistance—crumbling.
I smiled.
"There it is," I murmured, running my fingers through his silver hair. "That's what I wanted to see."
His breathing turned shallow, his entire body trembling beneath my touch.
And that—that was the moment he finally understood.
This wasn't for him.
His pain.
His surrender.
His breaking.
It was all for me.
And he would give it willingly.
Because nothing—nothing—felt more perfect than watching him unravel, knowing he belonged to me completely.
And as I pulled away, as I met his gaze, watching the desperate, helpless worship in his eyes—
I knew.
Caspian D'Argent was already too far gone.
And I would never let him go.
Chapter 31: The Glow of Devotion (Main Character's Point of View)
I leaned back, watching him.
Caspian was beautiful like this.
Still trembling, his breath uneven, his silver hair falling in disarray around his flushed face.
And his eyes—
Oh, his eyes.
Wide, dazed, utterly lost in me.
As if there was no world beyond this moment.
Beyond me.
I reached out, trailing my fingers along his jaw, feeling the way he leaned into my touch without hesitation.
No flinching.
No resistance.
Only pure, mindless submission.
And the way his lips parted, as if on instinct—as if waiting for a command—
Yes.
This was exactly where he belonged.
I tilted his chin up, letting my thumb rest against his lower lip.
"You look so perfect like this," I murmured.
A quiet, shuddering exhale.
His eyes flickered shut for half a second, as if overwhelmed by the words alone.
And then—
"...Yours," he whispered, voice barely more than air.
A soft, fragile declaration.
A vow.
As if it was the only truth he had left.
I smiled.
"Of course you are."
I let my fingers trace down his throat, over the frantic pulse there, down to the exposed skin of his collarbone.
His breathing hitched, but he didn't move.
Didn't resist.
Didn't try to think.
Only waited.
I could see it in the way his muscles stayed loose, in the way his body remained utterly still—
He had stopped holding himself together.
Had stopped trying to be anything other than what I made him.
And the glow in his eyes, the warmth, the blissful, dazed surrender—
Yes.
He was exactly where he was meant to be.
I let my fingers slide beneath his chin again, tilting his face up just a fraction more.
"You enjoy this, don't you?"
A slow, nearly imperceptible nod.
"Being like this. Being mine."
His lips parted, breathless.
"...Yes."
A whisper—soft, reverent, filled with something deeper than simple obedience.
Something worshipful.
My smile widened.
"Good boy."
And the way he shuddered—
The way his entire body melted into the praise—
There was no doubt.
Caspian D'Argent was already too far gone.
And he would never want to come back.