CH4

Arvin pov

The night stretches out, silent and seemingly pressing down on me with a weight far worse than the nights before the ceremony. I don’t know if Lester is asleep, the creatures of the night don’t breathe, but I too, can’t sleep for longer than I already did.

The cage is unusually comfortable and warm, but the comfort does nothing to calm my nerves. No matter how I turn and lay, I can’t fall asleep anymore.

Blankets beneath me are warm, the air around seems too warm, almost laced with scents of spiced wine and something far darker, something primal and dangerous that crawls under my skin and keeps me too tense to relax and find rest.

I blame Lester. Blame his presence so near. I can imagine him waiting for the moment to pounce, to attack me and suck my blood until my body is left dry of any life that courses through it now.

And as the night goes by, agonizing minute by minute, eventually I realize that he is, indeed, watching me. I can feel him near, surrounded by the shadows, his presence looming over me.

Despite that, I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction.

The moment he steps into the dim light, I force myself to remain still. I try my hardest, even though I know my body betrays me - a tightening of my muscles and a slight shake in my breath.

Lester, that bastard, notices. Of course he does. He notices everything.

“Did you rest, my little human?” His voice is velvet smooth, almost caring, but there’s still an underlying tension and threat hidden in the simple words.

I scoff, finally turning my head to glare at him. “Does it matter?”

He chuckles and steps closer, his movements slow and purposeful, like he’s enjoying playing this ruleless game more than he should. “Only to you,” he answers smoothly.

I shift against the silk restraints, my wrists aching from the hours I spent testing their limits, trying to break free. They don’t move, like iron cuffs, but they also don’t bite into my skin like chains would.

Somehow, that feels far worse. It’s almost like the delicate, soft restrains mock me. Fuck, this cage, the whole goddamn room is mocking me.

There are no cold stone walls, no damp cells or rough iron bars. Instead, I am caged in luxury. Soft blankets underneath, silk pillows that swallow me whole, a fire that burns low in the fireplace, casting gentle, soft shadows along the walls carved with silver and gold. Ironic, really, I am a prisoner in a velvet cage.

After a moment of tense, uncomfortable silence, I finally speak up, avoiding looking his way. “You said we begin today. What exactly does that mean?”

My voice is sharp, but there’s a tremor to my words and I hate how it makes me sound weak, unsure, like some goddamn animal who’s waiting for the last hour to come.

Lester steps even closer, his steps still slow and graceful. It’s yet another reminder of how goldike the monsters can appear to their prey.

When he stops right at the door of my cage, Lester looks down at me, the corner of his mouth twitching just barely. “It means that I am going to teach you.”

I force a sneer to my lips. “Teach me what?”

Lester chuckles and drags a chair closer to my cage, carefully lowering himself into it, sitting right in front of me like he truly believes he is a god. He watches me the way a predator watches something it has already claimed.

My skin prickles under his scrutiny. He takes his time, letting the silence stretch between us, feeding off the tension as if it is something he deeply cherishes.

“Submission,” he finally says.

The word hangs in the air for a tense moment until it hits me like a splash of venom in my face. My body goes rigid on instinct, I refuse to back down and snarl at him, “you’re wasting your time.”

He smirks, reaching for a glass of red liquid, resting on the small table I hadn’t noticed earlier. Lester swirls the liquid, inhales the scent of it like it is something precious before taking a slow sip and whispering against the glass. “We shall see. I suppose both of us can be grateful that I have nothing but time.”

My fingers curl into fists, my nails bite into my palms. I hate this. The waiting, the careful, drawn-out breaking of my self-control. Lester doesn’t demand me to hand it over to him, no, he toys with it, teases the already fragile edges and watches how close I come to snapping.

I desperately want to fight against injustice. I want to spit at him, spit in his smirking face, scream and lash out at him. But somehow, I don’t, at least not yet.

Lester tilts his head, studying me like he can see the war waging inside my head. “Tell me,” he whispers, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink. “What is it that you truly fear?”

My lips part, but I catch myself before I speak. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a true answer. Instead, I suck in a breath and mutter a lie between my teeth. “I fear nothing.”

The smile that spreads across his lips is slow, almost like he can see through my bullshit. “In that case, why is your pulse so loud?”

My glare is supposed to warn him to back off, but he only leans closer. So close that I can smell him - a faint trace of something metallic beneath the spice of wine. A scent that makes me think of old power and something darker hiding under it.

“You still think you have control,” he whispers. “That you are the one holding the cards.”

I grit my teeth. “I am not yours.”

He laughs, the sound deep, dark and amused. “Oh, my little human.” Lester reaches into my cage, his fingers brush along the inside of my wrist, just above where the silk restraints lay. “You will be. And don’t worry, I don’t want you to give up just yet. Fight me every step of the way, my little human. Fight me like your life depends on it. After all, breaking you will be so much sweeter when you fight me.”