Suffocating Control

Elara's mind went blank, fear washing over her like an icy tide. She couldn't fathom the true intent behind Duke Reinhardt's question. Say she was satisfied? That would undoubtedly be self-deception; his sharp gaze had already pierced through the defiance and struggle hidden beneath her submissive facade. Say she was dissatisfied? That would be a direct challenge to his authority, the consequences unthinkable!

She could only bite her lip hard, lower her head further, using silence to respond to the deadly inquiry.

However, her silence seemed to once again infuriate the capricious demon lord.

"What? Have you forgotten how... to answer my questions?" The Duke's voice turned abruptly cold, the fingers gripping her chin tightening sharply! The force was so great Elara felt her jawbone might crack!

"Ngh..." The sharp pain forced a muffled groan from Elara, physiological tears welling up uncontrollably again.

"Look up!" the Duke commanded sharply, his tone filled with unquestionable authority and... a hint of anger at being defied. "Look me in the eye and answer me!"

Elara was forced to lift her head, looking through tear-blurred eyes at the face so close to hers, at those cold eyes that seemed to burn with black fire. She saw her own fear, pain, and despair clearly reflected within them.

"Speak! Are you... dissatisfied?" The Duke's gaze was like the sharpest blade, flaying her soul inch by inch.

Elara felt she was about to break! She didn't know how to answer! Either response seemed to lead to hell!

Perhaps driven by the instinct for survival, or pushed to the absolute limit, Elara's gaze subconsciously flickered towards the door—the only symbol of hope for escaping this suffocating room.

However, this minuscule, almost unconscious glance was like a spark igniting a powder keg!

"Heh..." A low, extremely dangerous chuckle escaped the Duke's lips. "It seems you are not only dissatisfied, but also thinking of... escaping?"

The next second, before Elara could even react, a hand like an iron clamp seized her slender neck!

"Gasp—Ah!" Suffocation hit instantly! Elara's eyes flew wide. Her hands instinctively grabbed the Duke's wrist, desperately trying to pry it away, but his hand was like solid rock, unmoving! Air was completely cut off, her lungs burned as if about to explode! Black spots danced before her eyes, her consciousness rapidly fading from lack of oxygen!

She stared helplessly at the Duke's face, so close, handsome as a god's, now twisted with rage (or perhaps, excitement at his prey attempting to flee?). His cold eyes glittered with a chilling, near-maniacal light!

"Who gave you the audacity?!" The Duke's voice was a snarl from hell, each word laced with icy killing intent. "My property dares to even dream of... escaping?!"

He tightened his grip, lifting her from the floor like a rag doll. The force was so great Elara could even hear the faint crackof her neck bones protesting under the strain!

The terror of imminent death flooded Elara's being like cold venom! She had no doubt that with slightly more pressure, this man would snap her neck without hesitation!

No! I can't die!

An intense will to survive blazed through her! She stopped futilely trying to pry his hand away. Instead, summoning every last ounce of strength, she lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot from lack of oxygen, nearly bulging, yet still burning stubbornly with the flame of survival, and stared, filled with near-crazed hatred and defiance, at the man before her!

I will remember this face! Remember this demon's face that cast me into endless hell! Even as a ghost, I will never let him go!

Perhaps the look in Elara's eyes—like that of a cornered beast, filled with hatred and a desperate will to live—gave the Duke pause? The manic excitement in his eyes seemed to fade slightly, replaced by a deeper... strange interest, as if discovering extremely rare prey?

The hand around her neck seemed... to loosen its grip ever so slightly?

Just as Elara thought she might be able to gasp for breath, the Duke suddenly leaned down, his cold lips close to her cheek again.

But this time, he didn't bite her.

He simply used his gaze, like shards of ice, to lock onto her lips—trembling slightly from anger and fear, stubbornly pressed together (though still bearing the faint scar from his previous bite).

"Your eyes... are beautiful," his voice was low and raspy, carrying a chilling "admiration." "Filled with... unyielding life force. Like... the strongest wine, the most poisonous flower."

He paused, his eyes growing darker, more dangerous.

"Pity... they are so disobedient."

His voice was like a lover's whisper, yet carried a lethal threat.

Then, under Elara's terrified gaze, he released her neck.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, Elara collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently, gasping greedily for the regained air, tears and sweat mingling on her face, utterly wretched.

The Duke looked down at her from his superior height, his face expressionless, only his cold eyes holding the lingering trace of chilling madness and... absolute possession.

"Remember, Object Seven," his voice returned to its previous cold indifference, "do not let me see... that look of escape in your eyes again."

"Otherwise..." He didn't finish, but the unspoken threat terrified Elara more than any torture.

He seemed to be saying, next time, he wouldn't grant her the "amusement" of struggling.

Next time, he would... simply crush her.