Chapter 2

A tall figure stepped in, silhouetted against the light.

His footsteps were steady, radiating an oppressive aura that brooked no argument.

I groggily lifted my head, my vision swimming and unfocused.

I couldn't make out his face. I could only sense him approaching, then crouching down right in front of me.

"Who told you to drink?" he demanded.

A young man's voice. His voice was deep and pleasant, but carried a chilling edge.

Wait, wasn't Alex supposed to be an old guy well past fifty?

Alex clamped my chin in his hand, his grip so fierce it felt like he could crush my bones.

The pungent smell of alcohol, mixed with a crisp, icy fragrance, invaded my senses.

Then he forced my mouth open.

I saw him pull something from inside his coat and jam it into my mouth.

I struggled desperately, but it was useless. The pill melted instantly on my tongue, flooding my mouth with a coppery sweetness.

Then, my throat convulsed. With a violent retch, I spewed out the poisoned wine and everything else in my stomach.

The mess splattered all over Alex.

I expected him to lose it. But he didn't.

Alex simply released me, got to his feet, and towered over me, staring down.

At some point, my veil had slipped off. In the candlelight, I finally got a clear look at his face.

It was a face that defied description. His brows were sharp and angled toward his temples, and his eyes were long and narrow, carrying an almost mythical intensity.

Besides, his nose was straight and well-defined, his lips pressed into a thin, firm line.

His features were deep and devilishly handsome, almost too perfect, as if he belonged to some dangerous, unreal world.

Old king? Seriously? He looked maybe a couple years older than me, if that.

Alex yanked off his filthy outer robe and tossed it to the floor.

Underneath, he wore a fitted black outfit that accentuated his lean, powerful build.

He walked over to the table, poured a cup of coffee, and swished it around in his mouth.

Then Alex came back and crouched down in front of me again.

He reached out and wiped away the stain at the corner of my lips. His touch was anything but gentle, almost harsh.

His fingertips were icy and calloused, rubbing against my skin and sending a shiver through me.

"Violette," he called my name, his tone steady and calm, but it sent a chill down my spine.

How did he know my name?

"Princess Violette of Rivergate, born mute," he continued.

His gaze was sharp as a hawk's, as if he could see right through every secret I tried to hide.

"Want to die?" Alex curled his lips into a cold, chilling smile. "Not that easy."

He grabbed me from the floor and flung me onto the bed.

The mattress was soft, but it felt like a thousand blades were digging into my back.

I looked up at him, panic flooding my eyes.

Alex loomed over me, hands planted on either side, locking me in place beneath his body.

A cage with no way out.

"I am Alex Morgan," he declared, each word ringing out with cold authority.

My eyes went wide with shock. He... he was the infamous King Alex? Impossible!

Alex snatched the empty porcelain bottle from my hand and held it up to his nose, taking a slow sniff.

"Poison. Looks like Anna really 'cares' about you," he said, his voice laced with biting sarcasm.

He tossed the bottle to the floor, smashing it to pieces.

The crisp crack of breaking porcelain sounded like the final blow to my last hope.

"From now on, your life is mine." Alex leaned in, his warm breath washing over my face. "You don't even get to die unless I say so."

I was trembling with fear, my whole body shaking uncontrollably.

I wanted to beg him for mercy, but my voice was trapped. Nothing but silence came out.

All I could do was stare up at him, tears streaming down my face, my eyes pleading and desperate.

My tears seemed to please him.

Alex reached out and gently licked the tear from the corner of my eye with the tip of his tongue.

"These eyes are beautiful," he said in a low voice, as if admiring a trophy. "These eyes... I like them."

Without warning, his lips crashed down on mine.

There was nothing gentle about his kiss. It was all hunger and dominance, as if he was staking his claim and taking what he wanted.

I struggled desperately, twisting and turning, trying to break free.

But my resistance only made his grip tighten, holding me down even harder.

Alex pinned both my hands above my head with one of his, leaving me completely helpless.

His knee trapped my legs so I couldn't budge, locking me in place.

He ripped open the fastenings of my gown, rough and impatient, caring nothing for anything but his own desire.

The cold air rushed in, biting at my skin. I closed my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks in silence.

So this was what real hell felt like. It was worse than any torture I could have imagined.

I was nothing but a plaything. A lamb led to the slaughter, completely at his mercy.

That night felt endless, every second stretching into eternity.

I was like a lone boat adrift in a raging storm, teetering on the edge of being swallowed whole by the merciless waves.

I had no idea how long it dragged on, but Alex finally released me.

Every inch of me hurt, as if I'd been ripped apart and pieced back together, all wrong.

He got up, threw on his coat, and walked over to the window.

Outside, the sky was just starting to lighten. I curled up under the covers, frozen in place, too scared to even breathe.

Alex didn't bother to look back at me, not even once.

All he left behind was one cold, heartless line. "Stay alive. I'm not finished playing with you."

The door slammed shut behind him. Once again, I was left alone in the room.

Sunlight poured in through the window, but it couldn't touch the chill that lingered deep inside me.

I wanted nothing more than to die. But Alex said I wasn't even allowed that. Death wasn't an option for me.

My life had only shifted from one cage to another, even bigger and more hopeless than before.