Chapter 18 : A Prison Without Bars

Celeste couldn't remember the last time she had felt this afraid.

The car glided smoothly through the night, but inside, a storm was raging within her.

Alistair sat beside her, calm, like a king who had just won a war. His fingers tapped leisurely against her thigh, as if he knew that this silence was far more terrifying than any direct threat.

Celeste bit her lip, trying desperately to suppress the panic rising in her chest.

"Don't be so tense," Alistair's voice was soft, yet laced with dominance. "I won't hurt you… as long as you don't fight me."

He turned his gaze toward her, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Where are you taking me?" Celeste finally found her voice, though it came out much weaker than she had hoped.

Alistair smirked, his expression unreadable. "To the place where you should have been from the very beginning."

Celeste had no choice but to look out the window, watching the streets pass by. But the familiar cityscape she knew was slowly fading away.

They were moving farther and farther from the bustling streets—toward an unknown place.

A terrible feeling crept into her bones.

Minutes later, the car passed through towering gates that opened automatically. Floodlights illuminated the driveway leading up to a grand mansion—far larger than anything Celeste had ever imagined.

High walls surrounded the property, an impenetrable fortress.

A prison without bars.

Celeste swallowed hard.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance, a servant was already waiting by the door. But before Celeste could react, Alistair had already stepped out and circled to her side, opening the door with an eerie calm.

"No need to be afraid," he said, his tone almost gentle—yet there was an unmistakable warning beneath it. "You'll get used to it."

Celeste glared at him with hatred, but she stepped out anyway. She knew there was no point in resisting now.

The moment she stepped into the mansion, a cold, suffocating air greeted her. The interior was breathtakingly beautiful, yet it felt empty—like Alistair was the only one truly alive in this place.

And now, Celeste was trapped in it too.

Before she could utter a single word, Alistair took her hand and led her up the grand staircase.

"You're tired," he said, his voice carrying the weight of a command. "I'll take you to your room."

Celeste wanted to scream that she didn't want to be here, that she would never stay in this place.

But when they reached an enormous door and Alistair pushed it open, something inside made her freeze.

A vast bedroom with a massive bed at its center.

But that wasn't what shocked her the most.

It was the undeniable fact that this was no guest room.

This was the master bedroom.

Alistair's bedroom.

Her heart pounded violently as she turned to face him.

"What—"

Alistair smiled, then shut the door behind them.

"You're mine, Celeste." His voice was a whisper against her ear. "So, of course… you'll sleep here. With me."

Celeste stepped back, but her spine hit the cold, unforgiving wall.

Alistair watched her, his victorious smirk never fading.

Celeste knew… this night was far from over.

And tomorrow would likely be even worse.

Celeste Couldn't Breathe.

The room was too large, yet it felt unbearably small with Alistair standing so close. His breath ghosted over her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

She tried to step aside, searching for an escape, but Alistair was faster. His body effortlessly closed the space between them, trapping her between the wall and himself.

"No need to panic like that." His voice was low, almost amused. "I won't do anything… for tonight."

For tonight?

Celeste swallowed hard. She wasn't a fool. That meant the nights to come wouldn't be something she could escape.

Alistair seemed to revel in her fear. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear—a touch that should have been gentle but instead felt like a warning.

"Look at me, Celeste."

Celeste didn't want to obey. She didn't want to meet his gaze, but Alistair didn't give her a choice. His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face up to him.

His dark eyes scanned her features intensely, as if reading every flicker of emotion.

"I don't want you thinking about running away," he murmured. "Never try to defy me."

Celeste bit her lip.

"This house has the best security system. Every door and window is fitted with sensors. I'll know the moment someone tries to leave without permission."

A small smile played on his lips as he watched Celeste stiffen at his words.

"And if you insist on trying…" He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "I have many ways to make you regret it."

A chill ran down her spine. She didn't want to know how far this man was willing to go.

She forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart.

"Do you understand, Celeste?" Alistair's voice cut through the air again.

Silence.

His fingers pressed lightly against her chin.

"I asked you a question, Celeste."

She closed her eyes briefly before giving a small nod. It was the only thing she could do.

Alistair's lips curled into a satisfied smile.

"Good."

He finally released his hold and stepped back, giving her just enough space to breathe.

"You can take a shower, change, and rest." He walked to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room. "I've prepared everything you'll need."

Celeste glanced at the door, but she already knew—it was locked. She was completely trapped here.

Before she could dwell on it further, Alistair returned, holding something in his hands.

A black silk nightgown.

Celeste swallowed hard.

He extended it toward her, his gaze firm, commanding. "Wear this."

Celeste stared at the gown, then back at him.

"I won't repeat myself, Celeste," he murmured softly, but the warning was clear.

She had no choice.

With trembling hands, she took the garment from him and walked toward the bathroom without a word.

She could feel his eyes on her until the door shut behind her.

Once inside, Celeste pressed her back against the door, drawing in a deep breath.

Tonight, she might be safe.

But what about the nights to come?