chapter 4

Bill grasped Rose's reddened hands and slid them into the warmth of his coat. Startled by his unpredictable tenderness, Rose froze, her dread of his sudden gentleness surpassing her fear of his usual brutality.

Seeing her dazed expression, Bill abruptly scooped her up in his arms, cradling her as he walked toward the bed. His movements, though rough, betrayed a trace of caution. He placed her onto the thickly furred mattress with a care that almost contradicted his earlier demeanor.

Rose closed her weary eyes, drained of strength.

She had no more tears left to cry.

Even her fear of Bill seemed to have gone away, leaving only numbness and fatigue. Her pale skin glowed faintly in the flickering firelight, a subtle honeyed sheen accentuating her delicate beauty.

Stray golden strands of hair framed her face, enhancing her natural allure even in her disheveled and vulnerable state.

Bill's gaze burned like a tangible flame, lingering over her face, tracing her features inch by inch until it settled on her full, tightly pressed lips.

Rose, however, clung to her resolve.

She knew she needed to endure—to wait for the right moment to escape this nightmare. Patience, strength, and a foolproof plan were her only hopes of reclaiming her freedom.

Yet Bill mistook her silence for acquiescence, his boldness swelling as he leaned closer, determined to claim her in his own way.

His long fingers gently brushed against her lips.

The touch was soft, a stark contrast to his usual harshness.

His eyes grew dark and intense, like a deep, unfathomable lake. In their depths, possession mixed with a faint trace of tenderness, creating a complex expression that was hard to read.

Rose's body instinctively resisted.

She tried to swat away Bill's hand, desperate to escape his invasive touch. But Bill wouldn't let go. His warm breath brushed against her pale neck before his lips pressed down, leaving a searing kiss filled with undeniable possessiveness.

Bill's kisses became more aggressive, as though he wanted to consume her entirely.

His hands wandered restlessly, the rough pads of his fingers grazing her soft stomach, sending shivers through her. Even though she had endured this before, Rose's entire body tensed. She was as stiff as a stone, biting her lips to keep any sound from escaping.

When Bill's fingers began to move lower, threatening to invade her most vulnerable space, Rose couldn't take it anymore.

She shoved him away with all her strength. Her eyes now burned with rage, the fire within them fierce.

"Don't touch me!"

Rose's voice was hoarse and filled with anger. It sounded like the growl of a wounded small beast, echoing through the small tent, sharp and haunting.

Bill didn't get angry.

Instead, he narrowed his blue eyes slightly and stared at her in silence.

There was a hint of amusement and admiration in his gaze, and his lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

He relished the moment. No woman had ever brought him such a sensation before. The way her beautiful eyes burned with fury, as if she wanted to kill him, only added to his enjoyment.

"You'll be mine eventually,"

Bill said in a low, steady voice, one that carried an undeniable authority and dominance.

Outside the tent, the wind roared like a beast's growl, making the tense and heavy atmosphere even worse.

Just then, Leo's cheerful voice came from outside.

"Dinner's ready! Bill~"

A corner of the tent flap lifted, and Leo peeked inside, holding a tray of food. As soon as he saw Rose's angry face and Bill's innocent expression, he quickly understood what had happened.

Awkwardly, he put down the tray and dashed away, carefully letting the flap fall back into place.

Rose knew this was just the beginning of a long, painful ordeal. She bit her lip, forcing down the bitterness rising in her throat. She stood up, took the food from the tray, and ate mechanically. The food tasted like nothing, but she had to eat it.

She needed strength to survive, to escape...

For the next few days, Rose was closely watched by Bill's man.

During the day, she was forced to do hard labor, like washing clothes and preparing food.

At night, she faced Bill's torment.

The nights were worse than the physical labor.

Bill's attitude towards her was unpredictable.

Sometimes, he gently treated her wounds. Other times, he was like a raging beast, teasing her mercilessly.

Late at night, Bill would lie beside her, holding her tightly, kissing her, and teasing her in ways that made her realize his true goal. He wasn't trying to take her by force—he was waiting for her to surrender willingly.

His hands wandered over her body, igniting a fire deep inside her, only to stop at the last moment, leaving her to burn alone.

She thought he would take her completely, but he always stopped, staring at her with a mix of struggle and pain in his eyes.

Humiliation surged through her, almost drowning her.

Rose angrily pushed his hands away, rolled over, and wrapped herself in a fur blanket, turning her back to him.

Bill sometimes brought her fine food, soft clothing, and even shiny jewelry. One night, he took out a sapphire ring and held it out to her. It was a silver ring with an old, deep-blue gem that glowed faintly in the firelight.

Rose, having grown up in a merchant family, recognized its great value.

"This was my mother's," Bill said in a low voice, his tone unreadable.

Rose stared at the ring for a moment, then looked at Bill with a frown. "What do you mean?"

Without answering, Bill grabbed her hand and slid the ring onto her finger.

The cold touch of the ring sent a shiver through Rose. She instinctively tried to pull it off, but Bill held her hand tightly.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. "What are you trying to do?" Her voice was cold.

Bill's expression grew complicated.

He stood silent for a moment, then let go of her hand.

Rose was irritated by his actions.

The meaning behind the ring on her fourth finger—it was impossible.

She shook her hand hard, trying to remove the ring.

"I'm your prisoner!"

She said, anger rising in her voice.

"You raided our caravan, humiliated me, and now you give me your mother's ring?"

Bill's face darkened.

"I raided your caravan because it was part of the tribe's plan—"

"Plan? What kind of bandit plan?"

Rose cut him off, her voice trembling but filled with anger.

"You people from the North think you can do whatever you want because you're bandits? Just because I'm your prisoner, I have to endure this?"

"We're not bandits!"

Bill's voice rose, his frustration evident.

Rose's eyes widened slightly.

After observing the camp for several days, she had realized it was more like a disciplined army than a group of bandits. That made them even more dangerous.

She forced herself to stay calm, like a seasoned merchant. "Who are you?"

Instead of answering, Bill asked, "Who do you think I am?"

"You don't look like a bandit, but you act like one." Rose's tone was sharp, her anger finally spilling out. "How many women have you taken? What happened to them?"

Bill lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I've taken women, but I've never forced them. Some became camp prostitutes; others were married off. It depends on whether they were guilty."

"What crime have I committed?" Despair flashed in Rose's eyes. "What have I done to deserve this? If you decide a woman's fate based on her guilt, shouldn't you marry me off instead of treating me like this?"

"You're a prisoner. You have no right to demand anything from me!" Bill's tone turned icy, his jaw clenched as if holding back something.

Rose let out a cold laugh.

"If you're not a bandit, then I do have rights! I wouldn't ask for fairness from a bandit. Bandits kill and loot without reason. But you—you must be someone important in the North, right? Two nations at odds shouldn't harm civilians. You can't treat me like a war prisoner!"

"Civilians?" Bill's voice carried a hint of disdain.

"Your caravan disrupted the economy of our North. You're criminals in our country."

"Oh? So I'm guilty now?" Rose said coldly. "Does that mean I should become a camp prostitute? When do you plan to make me one?"

Bill's face turned pale with anger. He laughed bitterly. "When you've learned to serve men! When you've mastered every seductive trick! When you know how to please a man with your body! Right now, you're as stiff as a log, as cold as a corpse. Are you that eager to offer yourself to all men?"

"Shut up!" Rose shouted, her fury boiling over. She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist.

Bill's angry fist struck the tent pole beside her. He glared at her, then stormed out of the tent in frustration.

Silence filled the tent. Rose fell into deep thought. Could her family, the Fishers, really be the ones disrupting the North's economy?

Rose remembered how the Southern nations thrived on trade, living in wealth and comfort. The Northern nations were known for their rugged ways and martial pride. Though there were small conflicts between the two, wars were rare.

She had thought Bill was just a common bandit leader, but now she realized there was a deeper motive behind his actions.

The North… Stories about Northerners came to her mind. They were tall, strong, and ruthless, treating women as playthings.

A chill ran down her spine.