Woke

EZRA

I woke up to warmth. A steady, firm warmth wrapped around me, pressing against my back, the rise and fall of a familiar chest against my shoulder blades. The scent..earthy and warm…comforted me in a way I hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. I sighed, a relieved breath escaping my lips as I instinctively curled closer, letting my body relax despite the dull, aching pain radiating from my legs.

"Malachai…I had a bad dream…." I murmured, my voice laced with exhaustion and longing. I tilted my head up, seeking the lips I had memorized, needing the comfort of his kiss to remind me that he was still here, that I was safe. But the moment my lips brushed against his skin, something was wrong.

The scent was off.

It wasn't Malachai.

My eyes snapped open, heart slamming against my ribcage as I pulled back. The arms around me tightened, refusing to let me go, and that was when I saw them, those maddeningly hazel eyes staring down at me with something that looked like sorrow, something that shouldn't have been there. Something that shouldn't have belonged to him.

Lucius.

I shoved at his chest, horror gripping my body like a vice, but my legs were useless, numb and aching, failing me the way they always did. I tumbled onto the other side of the bed, my breathing ragged, my hands gripping the sheets like they were the only thing anchoring me to reality.

"Get off me!" My voice cracked, fury and humiliation bleeding into my words. "Don't touch me!"

Lucius didn't move. He simply sat there, his hazel eyes dim, lips pressed together in a way that made my skin crawl. He looked down at me, then sighed heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I thought you'd be calmer by now," he murmured, like my outburst was an inconvenience, like he was tired of my resistance.

Calmer? He expected me to be calm after everything he had done?

I gritted my teeth, dragging my body away from him, the effort making me tremble. "You drugged me. You took me from Malachai. And now you have the nerve to act like this is normal? Like this…" I gestured to the bed, to his presence beside me. "….is okay?"

Lucius tilted his head, a slow, lazy movement that sent a fresh wave of anger through me. "I didn't drug you, Ezra. You passed out from the pain, remember? And Malachai…" His voice dipped, something bitter curling around the edges of his words. "He's not coming for you."

I stopped breathing.

Liar.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "He will come for me."

Lucius chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "Oh, baby …" He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against mine before I could recoil. "You think he's strong enough to fight me? That he has the resources to track you down? Malachai is desperate, broken. He has nothing."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw at his face, to rip away the false sympathy in his expression. Malachai was coming for me. He had to be.

I shook my head violently. "Shut up. You don't know him. You don't know anything."

Lucius pulled back, studying me with an unreadable expression. And then, something strange happened. His face softened. He reached out, not forcefully, not cruelly. Just… gently. Like he was trying to reassure me, like he wanted me to believe him.

"I do know him, Ezra. And I know that you mean everything to him." He exhaled slowly, his gaze flickering to the bruises on my body, the marks that told the story of what Malachai and I had shared before Lucius ripped me away. "That's why he's weak. That's why he'll lose. Because of you."

I flinched at his words, something sharp twisting in my chest. Lucius was wrong. He had to be.

But then he did something even worse…he touched my hand, his fingers brushing against mine in a way that made my stomach churn.

"I want you to tell me, Ezra," he whispered. "Did you like it? The way Malachai touched you? The way he held you? Did it make you feel safe? Loved?"

I yanked my hand away. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Lucius didn't react. He only stared at me, waiting.

"You're sick," I spat, my voice shaking with rage. "You're obsessed. I will never, never let you touch me the way he does."

Lucius let out a slow breath, his expression unreadable. And then he smiled….a slow, knowing smile that sent ice down my spine. "Oh, Ezra… We'll see about that."

I refused to let his words take root in my mind. I turned away from him, glaring at the wall as my body trembled with anger, pain, and something else, something dangerously close to fear.

Days passed, but Lucius didn't hurt me. He didn't starve me. He didn't beat me. Instead, he did something far worse…..he played the role of the perfect captor.

Every morning, he would come into the room, bringing food, asking if I needed anything. He'd sit on the edge of the bed and watch me, studying my every movement, my every reaction. And every day, he'd ask the same damn questions.

"Does Malachai do this for you?"

"Does he hold you like this?"

"Does he kiss you the way I would?"

Each question sent waves of nausea through me. Each time he tilted his head with that damnable curiosity, I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw his eyes out.

But I refused to give him what he wanted. I ignored him, met his eyes with nothing but cold defiance. I didn't answer his questions. I didn't beg. I didn't break.

But every night, when he left the room and the silence crept in, I curled into myself, burying my face into the pillow that no longer smelled like Malachai. And I cried.

I missed him.

I missed him so damn much it hurt.

Lucius's kindness didn't break me. It didn't weaken me.

It only made me long for Malachai more.