He reaches for the plate, carefully slicing a piece of the perfectly cooked chicken he’s prepared. He holds it up to me, and there’s a command in his gaze that dares me to deny him, but there’s also an intimacy I hadn’t expected, a strange gentleness that makes me hesitate. Slowly, I open my mouth, letting him feed me, his fingers brushing my lips as he pulls the fork away.
“Good?” he asks, voice almost rough.
The taste is rich and savory, seasoned perfectly. I nod, unsure if I can trust my voice. There’s something dangerously comforting about this moment, as if he’s lured me into a false sense of security, one that I’m not certain I want to leave.
But he knows. Of course, he knows.
“You think I’m a monster, don’t you?” he asks, voice soft,barely above a whisper. It’s a statement, not a question, and he watches me as though searching for a sliver of redemption in my response.
I swallow, the taste lingering on my tongue. “I think… I don’t know what to think about you, Ashton.”
He tilts his head, considering, but there’s a darkness in his expression, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “That’s what makes it interesting, don’t you think?” He leans forward, his voice softer, more intimate. “That you can’t decide… if you want to hate me… or need me.”
The words settle in, twisting inside me, because he’s right. He’s wrapped me in this web of contradictions, of fear and desire, of anger and reluctant trust, and it’s tearing me apart.
Ashton’s hand is still around mine, his thumb brushing over my bruises again. It’s a reminder of the duality within him—gentle touches marking rough intentions, kindness entwined with cruelty. His fingers tighten slightly, possessive.
“Stay,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on mine, intense and unyielding. “Stay with me, Dove. Let me show you… that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”
It’s as much a plea as it is a command. And in the way he watches me, it feels like he’s daring me to take the leap—or maybe daring himself to let me go if I don’t.
“Your giving me a choice?”
“There was always going to be a day when I’d want you to choose. Choose me. Be with me. Accept me.” He sighs.
I look around the area,seeing the double glass doors that led into the woods, feeling the freedom of not being bound, theshackles were no longer tying me down and his soft words were giving me a choice: stay or go.
If he would have asked me this question months ago, I would have run through that door and happily gone home, putting this whole ordeal behind me and leaving Ashton right where he belonged—in the darkness.
As I look into his eyes, I’m just not sure. The decision should be an easy one, but it’s not. When I think of walking away from him, something piercing hurts my chest. It’s like the pull he has on me would be broken and maybe deep down. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want it to be broken. Somewhere in this fucked up world he had created, I had found something I didn’t even know I was searching for—a home.
How could I walk away when this was the first time in eight years that I truly felt safe? Maybe I was just far too damaged to realise this was toxic, but if that’s what it was, I’d take it over not existing.
He just watches me as I wrestle with the thoughts in my head. It’s like he’s waiting with bated breath for a response to his question. Would I break his heart or complete his dark world?
There is no pressure, no force. He’s really letting me decide my future. I haven’t been given the choice to decide how my life goes since I could remember. Not only was he letting me choose my fate, he was giving me my voice back. So strange to think that the monster who hid buried in the woods had shown me more kindness than those that would have you believe they were ‘good people’.
“I can see it’s a hard decision.” He smirks, rousing me from my thoughts.
“It’s not—it’s just?—.”
“Hold that thought. Don’t give me an answeryet.” I raise my brows in his direction. “I have a surprise for you.” He whispers.
“Do you trust me?”He asks me and I don’t even have to think before I speak.
“Yes.” I whisper.
I feel him bind dark silk across my eyes and then the light is gone and all I can see is darkness. This should terrify me, but it doesn’t. Listening to his heavy breathing as his hands crawl down my arms, sending electric currents to pierce my body, he leans in. “I’ve been wanting to show you this since you arrived.” He breathes into my skin.
With his hands guiding me, he leads me down a hallway, our footsteps soft on the thick carpet beneath us. The air feels different here, somehow warmer, carrying a faint scent of old books, leather, and polished wood. We stop in front of large, ornately carved double doors that feel massive even from behind my blindfold.
His fingers slide over mine, squeezing gently before he removes the silk covering my eyes. I blink into the low golden light that floods from the room ahead.
The library is vast, sprawling across two levels, with towering mahogany shelves stretching up to a painted ceiling that seems to touch the heavens. The ceiling is a masterpiece—rich murals that depict scenes of mythical landscapes, painted with the detail of a thousand careful strokes. Softly glowing chandeliers hang from above, illuminating the figures in the clouds and casting a warm, almost sacred light over the room.
Dark wooden ladders run along tracks at each row, invitingyou to explore every towering shelf and hidden corner. The walls are lined with intricate woodwork, and there’s a wrought-iron spiral staircase leading to the upper balcony, which wraps around the room like a protective embrace. Rich leather armchairs sit in cozy clusters, as if inviting you to lose yourself in a story, and a grand stone fireplace rests at the far end, its quiet crackle adding to the warm, intimate atmosphere.
“This…” I whisper, unable to finish as I take it all in.
