Chapter 6 – My Future Queen

If Anastasia wanted to play this smart, she had to let Dylan think he still had control. She couldn't let him know how strong she had become in just a few days. That meant putting her wings away and acting like the old, naive Anastasia he thought she was and let him get her right where he wanted her. As much as it disgusted her, it was the only way to get out of this mess.

She focused, breathing slowly as she tucked her wings back in. Just in time too—Dylan was coming back. His footsteps echoed down the hallway, slow and deliberate. The door creaked open, and there he was, with that same cocky smirk on his face.

"Hello, Baby Girl. I am sorry I haven't visited in a while but work, you know, it's a messy business and sometimes I am so busy that I can't even give attention to my lady," Dylan said nonchalantly.

Anastasia raised her eyebrows at the way he looked. He wasn't wearing the normal clothing that she was accustomed to. He was wearing tight black pants, a tight black buttoned shirt, and a long leather trench coat which made him almost look like royalty. His eye color was different too – where he used to have brown eyes, he had hazel eyes now instead. The energy she felt from him was faint but it was not of a normal human.

"I can understand why you are so hesitant. After all, I was a naughty boy and acted like I slept with your stepsister. But I must say it was quite worth the reaction I got from you," Dylan smirked. "I mean, you did deprive me so I felt like I had to get revenge on you. I hope you know, that there is nothing between me and her so you can come back to me now.

Anastasia just silently stared at him, pretending like she was taking in every word by nodding in response, meanwhile, she thought Dylan was more psychotic than she realized.

"Have you finally decided to give in, Ana?" he asked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Will you indulge me with that beautiful body and let me in?"

She swallowed the bile in her throat and plastered on a look of surrender. "Yes," she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes, making her voice soft and vulnerable, just like he liked.

That was all he needed. Dylan rushed toward her, grabbing her face in his hands and kissing her like a man starved. His lips were feverish, desperate, and shoved his tongue in her mouth to which she had to comply. It took everything in her not to shudder in revulsion. He threw her on the bed, wanting her to submit, to break under his touch, and for now, she would let him think she had.

He started sucking on her neck while undressing her, his hands moving quickly to unbutton her shirt, fingers grazing her skin as he pulled the fabric away. He held her breasts in his hands and then kissed them, grazing her nipples with his tongue, his breath hot and disgusting against her skin. She bit down on her tongue to keep from gagging, forcing herself to stay still as his hands stroked her leg, to her thigh gently. He then began stroking the outside of her panties and in a rush of excitement, he pulled her pants down low enough to let him in.

He fumbled with his own belt, pulling himself free, and started guiding his hardness at her entrance and that's when she knew this was it—the moment of vulnerability she had been waiting for.

Dylan was so consumed with the thought of conquering her that he didn't even see it coming.

With a swift move, she grabbed him and threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. He slammed into the wall with a grunt, eyes wide in shock—and something else. Desire. He wanted her even more now. The fact that she had this kind of power only seemed to fuel his obsession.

"You...you're stronger than I thought," Dylan panted, a wicked grin spreading across his face in which she responded with a grin while pulling up her pants, happy with the results of her plan so far.

He started to get up, but before he could, the door behind him swung open. The guards had heard the commotion.

Exactly what she wanted.

Without hesitation, Anastasia unfurled her wings, stretching them wide. Dylan's jaw dropped, completely stunned, and that split second of surprise was all she needed.

She launched herself forward, slamming into the guards like a wrecking ball, knocking them aside as if they were nothing. Their weapons clattered to the floor as she bolted past them, sprinting down the corridor as fast as her legs could carry her.

This place was a maze, twisting hallways and endless doors, but she couldn't fly out yet—not until she found her way outside. She ducked around a corner, pressing herself flat against the wall when she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart raced, but she forced herself to breathe, waiting until the footsteps faded before slipping back into the shadows.

After what felt like forever, she finally spotted something—guards moving toward a door. Only these weren't normal guards. She could sense it now, the faint buzz of something supernatural clinging to them. Whatever they were, she didn't care. She followed them, keeping her distance, praying they would lead her where she needed to go.

And then she saw it. Light spilling through the open door. The exit.

She didn't hesitate. The second they stepped outside, she unfurled her wings again and took off into the sky, her heart pounding with adrenaline. She was free.

A shout from behind made her glance back, and her stomach dropped. Dylan was there, along with a group of guards, running toward her.

But he wasn't angry. No, Dylan was smiling. That sick, twisted smile that made her skin crawl. He stared up at her, his eyes gleaming with something dark, something possessive.

"You're mine, Anastasia," he spoke softly as he watched her fly away until she was no longer seen. "You will be my bride soon. My queen in the underworld."