Chapter 22: The Mark of His Owner

The silence between them was thick, charged with an electrifying tension. Anne felt her heart pounding as Lucian watched her with that gaze that devoured her without touching her. She knew that her will was a game to him, a rope he could tighten and loosen as he pleased.

That night, in her room, Lucian approached with the calm of a predator. His fingers traced her skin with deceptive gentleness, sliding down to her neck, where he left a barely perceptible brush. His touch made her shiver, and before she could react, she felt the press of his lips against her skin.

The kiss was not sweet or affectionate. It was an affirmation.

-You are mine, Ana," he whispered against her skin.

She closed her eyes, unable to respond. She knew it wasn't just words; it was a warning. Lucian didn't need chains to bind her. He had wrapped her in an invisible noose, entangling her in a feeling she herself could not decipher.

The next morning, when she looked in the mirror, she saw the mark on his neck. A dark mark, a reminder of who she belonged to. She tried to hide it with her hair, but Lucian's satisfied look at the sight of it made it clear that it would do her no good.

-Don't try to hide it," he told her, brushing the mark with his fingertips. I want everyone to know you're mine.

Anne felt a shiver run down her spine. Was it fear? Resignation? Or perhaps, what terrified her most: a part of her didn't want to fight it.