Chapter 8 : The Binding Trap

Celeste sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly. Her body was still tense after the long night—not just from the lingering pain, but from the constant pressure that wrapped around her like an unbreakable chain.

She felt like a bird trapped in a gilded cage. No way out, no cracks to escape through. Alistair had made sure of that.

The man had just stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a loosely hanging black satin robe. His hair was still damp, droplets of water trailing down the dark strands. Celeste could feel his gaze on her, studying every small reaction she gave away.

"You look restless," Alistair's voice was deep and relaxed, but Celeste knew better than to trust it.

She remained silent.

Alistair moved closer, standing right in front of her. With one smooth motion, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I don't like it when you go quiet like this, Celeste."

Her expression stayed empty. She refused to give him the reaction he wanted.

Alistair narrowed his eyes, then let out a small smirk. "Alright. If you won't speak, I'll just draw my own conclusions."

His hand trailed down, brushing over her shoulder before stopping at her arm. His fingers tightened around her skin, firm enough to remind her that she had no choices here.

"You're still thinking about resisting me, aren't you?"

Celeste bit her lip, trying to suppress the tension creeping into her body.

"I can see it in your eyes," Alistair continued, his voice softer now, yet infinitely more dangerous. "That's what's interesting about you. You know you won't win, but you still try."

Celeste said nothing.

A quiet chuckle left Alistair's lips, laced with arrogance. "I wonder how long you'll last before you finally surrender to me completely."

Her teeth clenched.

Alistair leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I have plenty of ways to make sure that happens."

Celeste's heart dropped.

And as he pulled her into his embrace once more, she knew one thing for certain.

Alistair would never let her go

Celeste could feel every touch of Alistair, no matter how much she wanted to ignore it. The man sat at the edge of the bed, still holding her chin firmly, as if ensuring that she would never be able to turn away from him.

"You can't run forever, Celeste," he whispered, his tone calm yet threatening. "Sooner or later, you'll realize that I am the only choice you have."

Celeste wanted to refuse, wanted to fight back, but Alistair's words carried a certainty that was hard to deny. She knew he never spoke in empty threats—Alistair was a man who always got what he wanted, by any means necessary.

"Let me go," her voice was weak, but clear enough to make Alistair's eyes narrow.

The man smiled, but it was a cold smile. "Let you go?" he repeated, as if the words were foreign to him. "Sweetheart, I think you still don't understand your position."

His hand moved down, tracing her arm slowly before stopping at her waist. He pulled her closer, just enough to steal the breath from her lungs.

"I can give you everything, Celeste." His voice dropped lower, almost like a seduction. "Wealth, protection, even love… if you're smart enough to accept it."

A tightness settled in Celeste's chest.

"And if I don't want it?" she finally dared to ask.

Alistair sighed, his fingers tightening around her waist. "Then I'll make you want it."

There was finality in his voice—not just a threat, but a decision. Celeste realized then that Alistair wasn't just toying with her. He fully intended to claim her, in whatever way he deemed necessary.

"You will be mine, Celeste."

Alistair leaned in, his gaze dark and resolute.

"And the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you."

Celeste held her breath.

Because deep down, she knew that what Alistair said wasn't just a threat.

It was the reality that had already begun to trap her.

Silence.

Only the sound of Celeste's ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Alistair was still watching her, his gaze piercing through the fragile defenses she had left.

"I don't understand why you keep resisting, Celeste." His voice was calm but cold. "What are you hoping for? That I'll give up? That I'll simply let you go?"

Celeste clenched her fists on her lap, her nails nearly breaking the skin.

"I'm not someone you can control." Her voice was quiet but firm.

Alistair chuckled softly, his fingers idly playing with a strand of her hair before trailing down to her chin, tilting it up so she couldn't avoid his gaze. "You're incredibly stubborn."

He leaned in, his breath ghosting against her cheek. The tension between them was thick—something dark, undefined, yet completely overpowering.

"But you're wrong if you think you still have a choice."

Celeste swallowed hard, fighting to keep her fear in check.

Alistair studied her face with an unwavering stare before whispering against her ear, "Sooner or later, you'll understand, darling. You belong only to me."

The chilling weight of his words sank deep into her bones.

Celeste knew one thing for certain.

Alistair didn't just want to cage her.

He wanted to break her… and rebuild her into whatever he desired.