Queen

I froze, dark memories coming to the surface and a light shining on the shadows I tried to force away to the deepest parts of my mind. Because I can. Just three words that shattered my soul, every single time. I'd heard it from them all and those simple three words carried so much weight.

Because they could.

Because they were stronger.

Because they wanted to.

And because I let them.

It was never my fault...I'd grown enough mentally to know at least that much. I'd just always defer to a state of nothingness in which it stopped mattering to me after I felt powerless.

It felt safer there.

It wasn't as scary because at least there, no matter how much I was losing, I could preserve some sort of dignity in knowing that I didn't fight and lose. That they didn't take all my willpower and it was all for nothing.

I believed that there was power in my complacency, but as I looked at him...I realized suddenly that I had been lying to myself. If I let Syn do this to me, I could never live with myself. He was a memory I'd never be able to fold up into a package and compartmentalize.

The realization of it all had my eyes blurring with tears. I closed my eyes, my body shaking with sobs as the daggered questions of 'what If I had' began stabbing me in the gut.

I heard him whisper, "Good girl," before he removed the belt from my neck.

My eyes snapped open at that and he raised a brow at my gaze before wrapping the leather around my wrists.

Fucking bastard.

He probably thought my tears were a sign of me giving in, but that was far from the truth. I'd been fighting Syn since the start of us, I'd do it until the end too.

No matter what that meant.

I pulled against the restraint, but his hold was strong. Tears flowed, my frustration and the ache in my head making them feel like acid against my skin.

He lifted my arms above my head, looping it around the mahogany bar in the headboard. When he'd successfully secured it, he trailed his fingers down my arms, they slowed at my face, his eyes following.

When they'd made it to my breasts my chest was rising and falling. I saw his Adam's apple bob before he licked his lips. "Fuck," he whispered, the need in his voice pertinent as his calloused hand moved flat between my breast and down my stomach.

It lingered at the hem of my panties as I twisted and turned. He simply toyed with the tiny black bow at the top of it. "Cute." His hands, suddenly gentle moved to my sides and he hooked his fingers into the thin material.

His eyes were back on mine as he tugged the slightest bit and I tensed. I screamed obscenities into the space between us, pulling at the belt and kicking my legs against his weight and the mattress.

"I fucking hate you!" I cursed at him.

"The feeling's mutual right now, Princess." He smiled and gave me a wink.

"Fuck you," I spat.

"I'd say the same back to you, but I'll be doing it in a moment." He let go of my panties and his hands roamed back up my to my sides. He leaned down, no doubt to kiss me and I turned my head.

I felt the heat of his chuckle against my cheek. He moved to follow me and I turned my head the complete other way, making him laugh again deeply. "Funny of you to think I won't just take what I want."

"I don't want to kiss you, bastard," I spewed.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him. "I don't care what you want...bitch," he whispered the last word on my lips with a laugh before placing a wet kiss on my mouth.

The shock from hearing him call me out of my name had me frozen for a second before I reacted and bit down against his lip- he bit back drawing blood and I screamed into his mouth. The sound of that only made him deepen the kiss and moan into my mouth.

He pulled away with a pop, licking the blood from his lips before smirking at the one the crimson staining my own.

He kissed a slow and bloody trail down my neck to my breasts, ignoring my swears. His hot mouth wrapped around one of my nipples, sending a flurry of heat and butterflies straight to my middle.

My mind whirled, and I blew out a frustrated breath to disguise a moan as he bit lightly before sucking. My breathing became ragged, my hands twisting into the leather for a modicum of sanity.

I didn't want this.

I do not want him.

I want him off me.

I reminded myself of this, bringing that paralyzing fear back to the surface. He let my nipple go with a pop before moving to the other and I forced my lips together to bite back a moan.

My toes curled, my legs twisting as I tried to press my thighs together.

Confusion laced every nerve in me as my mind warred with my body's lack of resilience. I didn't know what was happening, but I refused to have him think that this was okay.

He shifted, using his thick thigh to part my legs and I took my opportunity to bring my knee up.

Hard.

He groaned in pain, moving his head as if he could actually see if I'd done any damage to his balls.

He cursed for a moment before lifting on one arm and grabbing my leg. I tried to pull away but he held it firm to the point that it became painful. He wrapped his fingers around my knee and bent it, lining it up with his crotch until it made contact.

Then he looked at me. "You have one chance. You can't afford to miss it like you just did. Again," he instructed, patting my leg. He adjusted himself over me, straddling me once again, and dropped his lips to mine.

Confusion swirled in my head once again as he continued, but then he switched positions again, just like earlier. I noticed the same fleeting chance- where my knee had the space and opportunity to shoot up, and I took it.

My knee made immediate contact with his dick through his pants and I heard a throaty groan escape his mouth as he pulled away from my mouth. His face moved to my shoulder, getting lost in the wild mess that was my hair as he cursed.

"Fucking shit," he swore in pain, moving his hand between us to the spot I'd kneed. I watched his reaction, not understanding...he'd practically showed me how to hurt him. He glanced at me, the look of pain slowly disappearing from his features. "I was hurt and that was your chance. You're losing it now, what will you do?"

As if my body reacted solely on his command, I raised my knee again but he caught it this time and forced it back down. "You've already done that," he gritted angrily. He took a breath to relax, his hair flowing into his face like a madman. "Too fucking predictable."

It was only when he raised his hand to move his hair that I realized my right leg was completely free. Possessed, I raised it, my knee slamming into his side. He was thrown off guard as he crunched his side in pain. I felt his weight let up a bit and I thrashed and kicked wherever I could.

He swore, trying to defend against it but it was too late. In the moment that he lifted himself off of me, I saw an opening square in the middle of his chest. I kicked hard with the bottom of my foot and a pain shot through my leg.

Syn staggered back and I kicked again. I heard a crunch as my foot made contact with his face and fear immediately struck me at the rage-filled "Fuck!" he screamed into the air as he walked away from the bed, his hand flying to his nose.

I hurt him.

That was my immediate thought...but not too long after, something else began creeping up.

Pride.

I had surprised him and myself.

His hand was against the wall. I heard him taking a deep breath before another cracking noise followed and he blew out a long breath. He was still for a few moments, his back to me as he gathered himself. I took the chance to push myself up with my legs until I was on my side. With another twist, I was sitting up, but my arm was beginning to hurt.

I pulled against the belt, pain shooting up my wrists and I cursed myself for not choosing a flimsier bed frame.

A deep rumble of laughter started from him, catching my attention. His shoulders shook with the laugh as he threw his head back. Then he started clapping.

Slow and menacingly.

He turned back to face me and I took in what I had done to his face. He snapped the broken bone back in place so it had begun healing but it was bruised, blood staining the area.

"Good job," he said genuinely, contrasting his harshness. "But you're still tied up." He pointed out, taking slow steps toward the bed. "And I know you'll fight me so I'm going to be a lot less friendly."

"You call this friendly?" I snapped.

"A lot friendlier than I'm capable of, love," he said. "I want the power of knowing I took something from you. That I broke you, piece by piece, and there's nothing you can do about it. You'll fight, sure, but I'll always win because I know what it is to break." He paused. "Give me your all, Princess. It won't mean anything in the end."

He lifted his sweater over his head and wiped his face with it before throwing it aside. His body was a tapestry of ink and scar tissue, each mark a story etched into his skin—a life lived in violence and survival.

Tattoos sprawled across his chest, interwoven with jagged scars, each one a tale of battles fought and lost, of survival in a world that had nearly torn him apart. Now he was doing it to me. I tore my eyes away but it was too late, he'd seen my eyes.

His softened for the briefest second before that mask returned and he began unbuttoning his pants. "I'm stronger and faster than you. You can't run, hide, or fight in any meaningful way that'd truly stop me."

He reached the edge of the bed and lowered his fists to it, leaning toward me. His arms flexed, almost stealing my attention again but I forced myself to look into his eyes.

"You could kill me..." he offered, looking at me from head to toe. "But you have nothing and in here, you are nothing."

He stood up straight.

He grabbed my ankle and pulled until all my progress went back to zero. My legs instinctively kicked but he grabbed my calfs and sighed. "You have no power. I've already won," he said, his voice softening. "Will you accept that?"

When I didn't answer, he sighed and stood straight. "It's a shame, in a way. I'm the greatest evil you'll ever encounter. If you had defeated me...you could've defeated anyone." He removed his pants in one swoop and stood in only his briefs in front of me. Then he shrugged. "Oh, well."

He held me down, paying no mind to my fighting against him as he climbed on top of me. That same panic, like a friend from the past filled every bone in my body. I waited for that same dark door in my mind to open and accept me into its embrace- but it was gone now. Because of him. The only place I could be was here, under him and those watchful green eyes.

Fuck him. Anger, pain, and fear held hands and ring around the Rosie'd in my head to a point where I couldn't breathe anymore. It was all too much. He was too much. His hands and mouth were suddenly everywhere and nothing I did seemed to deter him. My body was no help either as that unwanted heat seemed to follow his fingers.

I cried, pulling at the leather wrapped around the wood until I saw red.

I heard a splinter, my arms moving a bit as the wood gave way. It was breaking.

I pulled harder.

Syn's fingers moved between my legs, the touch soft and teasing as he lingered at the edge of my panties.

As if the touch gave me sudden strength, I pulled one more time and it gave. I felt him let up when what I'd done caught his attention and I brought it down with all the strength and pain I had in me. The stake landed in his chest, all of the traumatic memories buried along with it and he stilled.

I froze. My fingers trembled as I processed what I'd done. It wasn't calculated. It wasn't planned. It had been a reflex. My body had acted on its own, desperate to protect me. But that didn't make it any less real. I had hurt him... and somehow, it felt right.

I bit back a sob as I grappled with the realization of that. It was on instinct. I didn't let anything happen- I had kept my promise to myself. I had fought this time. And I had won.

Syn leaned back slowly, his eyes shut tight before he wrapped a hand around the wood. He pulled it out with one swift tug and sent it clattering to the floor.

"Shit," he groaned, a hand over his bloody chest. With him distracted, I took the chance to sit up and remove the restraint with my teeth. The buckle gave way and I pulled my wrists apart, letting the leather fall before I grabbed it and threw it at his face.

Fucking piece of shit!

He clenched his jaw, letting it hit him before saying, "Okay." When his eyes opened, he looked at me with bright eyes, that blank look replaced with...I didn't know. But it looked a lot like pride.

"If I had a heart," he began, "You would've missed."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I slapped him across the face and he remained motionless, not surprised by it.

Then I hit him again.

And again all over until my vision blurred and sobs wracked my entire body. He let me for a few moments before grabbing my wrists with one hand and wrapping an arm around me.

I tried to push against him but he held me tight, running a hand over my head to soothe me. He kissed my forehead, and the top of my head, and my resistance fell. I gave into his hold and cried against his chest.

"You did good, Princess," I heard him say as he rubbed my back.

It was mind-bending how the person who brought me to this point could be the one to bring me out of it. I hated him for it. I wanted to hit him again but knowing he'd let me made my fist fall against his shoulder.

All I could do was ask him, "Why?"

"Because you would've let me," he said. I pulled away to look up at him and his hands moved to my cheeks to wipe my tears. "I realized it when you stopped fighting me, and that angered me more than anything has in a long time. I won't say I'm sorry though.

"I refuse to abandon a world in which you just let yourself be taken advantage of just because you think the fight will all be for nothing. I won't be here to save you...so I needed you to see-" he choked on his words as he looked at me, eyes brimming with tears. "To see that you don't need me, Princess. You are strong and more than beyond capable of defeating your mind and saving yourself. From any and everything."

He wiped another tear away with the pad of my thumb. "I know I hurt you, but if I apologize I won't mean it and I refuse to lie to you. So please, don't cry because of me."

I listened, his words making my chest ache but the part of me that stayed alert even when I refused to be, second-guessed his words. How far would he have gone? What would have happened if I hadn't stabbed him...what if this was never his plan and he was just saying it to get back in my good graces?

"I see the hesitance in your eyes," he said. "It must be hard to trust me after what I've just done...but I'd never do that to you. If you won't believe that much then maybe just believe that I'm not a rapist," he offered with a satisfactory nod.

"Ah. So you draw the line there but not at sexual assault..." I sniffled and he paused, dropping his hands from his face as a thoughtful look appeared on his face.

"Oh." His brows scrunched in deep thought before his gaze softened on me. "What shall I do then? I can turn myself into whoever would take me..." he said with a tenderness that made guilt creep up on me.

I didn't know why...that was what he'd done.

"I will go to Earth and confess if you'd like. I'm sure I'd get a fair punishment there, right?"

"And be jailed for less than twenty-four hours?" I reminded him.

His shoulders sagged and he looked down at the branded cross on his forearm. His hair, a mess from the sweat and blood clung to his forehead and I reached out, moving it from his face. "I think serving me instead of time would be a more appropriate punishment." He lifted his head back to me and my hand moved to his cheek.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath before giving me a determined gaze. "Okay. What do you want?"

"Will you really do it?" I asked him, sniffling. "It'll be a tough punishment."

"I'll do anything."

"Okay," I whispered, looking into his emerald eyes. "I want you to live for me. Forever. Stay by my side- even if it's hard. If you're ever truly insistent on dying, let it be by my hand only."

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