I couldn’t shake what I saw in the basent.
Those bodies under white sheets. Too still. Too exposed. Coated in a strange, glossy layer like soone had "preserved" them for later.
My stomach turned every ti I rembered it.
Even if Yael hadn’t done that part himself, the fact that he could stand near it work around it like it was normal... that alone made my skin crawl.
My instincts kept whispering one thing.
Run.
But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not without a plan.
"Yael," I said carefully, forcing my voice to stay steady, "I’m really tired today. Maybe we can do this another ti."
I tried to step back.
He stepped forward at the sa ti, like he’d already predicted my retreat.
"Elena," he said softly, almost patient. "There’s nothing to worry about. I won’t hurt you. I just need to see your body. Silas damaged your original one, and I’ve regretted it ever since."
His eyes slid over like I was sothing rare.
"This new body," he added, voice lowering, "it’s flawless. I want to study it properly."
My throat tightened.
"Yael..." I swallowed hard. "It’s cold. Undressing isn’t a good idea right now."
He didn’t even blink. "This island stays warm all year. You won’t get cold."
Then his hand moved to my collar.
Not a grab. Not a shove.
Worse.
A calm, casual reach like he had the right.
My chest squeezed tight, my heart slamming.
"Yael, stop!" I cried.
He yanked.
Two buttons snapped off, popping like tiny gunshots in the room, and my shoulder slipped free. The strap of my top showed.
And so did the marks Lewis left on .
Faint bruises. Darkened kisses. Proof of my bond. Proof of my mate.
Yael’s face changed instantly. The warmth drained from him like soone flipped a switch.
His voice went cold. "Elena... your body is ruined."
I felt panic rise so fast it almost choked .
"Yael, you know I’m bonded. It’s normal for mates to "
He cut off without emotion.
"Marks like these destroy beauty."
That was when it hit , sharp and clear.
He didn’t see as a person.
He saw as a piece of art that didn’t belong to anyone else.
I forced myself to breathe, to think.
"They’ll fade," I said quickly. "In a few days, they’ll fade. We can continue when they’re gone, okay?"
A small smile pulled at his mouth.
It didn’t comfort .
"There’s no need to wait," he said, almost pleasantly. "If sothing’s dirty... you clean it."
Cold dread slid down my spine.
"Clean it?" I whispered. "How?"
My mind flashed with horrible images scrubbing until skin tore, chemical burns, pain that never stopped.
Before I could move, he bent and lifted into his arms like I weighed nothing.
He held tight, voice low against my ear.
"Don’t fight, Elena. I can’t promise what I’ll do if you struggle." His breath ward my cheek. "You’re beautiful... and I’m still a man."
My body went stiff.
Not because I believed him in so romantic way.
Because the warning underneath his words was clear.
I didn’t move. I barely breathed.
He laughed quietly, like I was adorable. "You’re so sweet. I feel like kissing you."
"You don’t," I snapped, eting his eyes.
For a second, sothing flickered across his face amusent, maybe. Interest. Hunger. The kind that wasn’t about food.
Then he turned and carried into another room.
It wasn’t filled with sculptures.
It was worse.
Shelves of jars. Unmarked bottles. strange tools. stacks of vials that looked like they belonged in a hidden lab, not a ho.
Lewis’s warnings ca rushing back about groups who hid from the world, making illegal things in the dark.
Yael walked past the shelves and into what looked like a washroom.
Without a word, he placed into a large bathtub.
The second my feet touched the cold surface, panic exploded in and I tried to climb out.
His voice stopped like a blade at my throat.
"Elena. If you run, I’ll cut off your legs." He said it like he was discussing groceries. "That way you’ll behave."
I froze.
My fingers clutched the edge of the tub so tightly they hurt.
I forced myself to speak like I was calm, like I was still in control.
"The tub is dirty," I stamred. "It needs cleaning."
Yael tilted his head, amused. Then he patted my hair like I was a pet.
"Good. Stay here," he said. "I’ll clean it properly. Don’t move."
My legs refused to obey any urge to bolt. For all I knew, caras were hidden everywhere. Running blind would only make things worse.
"Fine," I whispered. "I won’t move."
He knelt and scrubbed the tub with unsettling care, like he was preparing a ritual.
My anxiety climbed with every second.
This was what a cage feels like, I realized.
Not bars.
Just certainty that you can’t leave.
For the first ti, I understood a piece of Whitney’s nightmare. One day with Yael felt like a hand closing around my throat.
How did she survive years under Vito?
When the tub glead, Yael filled it with warm water.
Then he motioned. "It’s ready, Elena."
I climbed in fully dressed, grateful he didn’t demand more from .
Wet clothes were better than being exposed.
I thought maybe... maybe that was all.
I was wrong.
Yael returned holding a small dark bottle. No brand. No label that belonged to any real place.
"What’s in that?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He swirled it slowly, almost lovingly. "Sothing to help you get clean."
"I can wash myself," I said fast. "There’s no need to add anything."
He smiled, calm as ever.
"Don’t worry," he said. "I’ll make sure you’re perfectly clean. Not a single blemish will remain."
Then he poured it into the water.
The liquid looked blue for a second then vanished completely, blending like it had never existed.
My pulse spiked.
"What... what is this?"
Pain shot up from my feet like fire.
I scread.
Even through my clothes, every patch of skin touching the water felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles. It wasn’t heat. It wasn’t cold.
It was agony.
Like my nerves were being peeled open from the inside.
"Yael!" I cried, shaking so hard the water splashed over the edge. "Stop please!"
I tried to crawl out.
He pushed down.
Not violently. Not frantically.
Firmly. Easily.
Like my strength didn’t matter.
"Does it hurt, Elena?" he asked softly, almost tender. "I’ll stay with you, okay?"
His eyes glead with sothing feverish.
Then he stepped into the tub with and wrapped his arms around so I couldn’t move, pinning against his chest as the pain tore through my body.
"It hurts like hell!" I sobbed, voice cracking. "Yael, let go! I can’t take this!"
"Just a little longer," he murmured into my hair. "Soon you’ll be clean. You’ll feel better."
I dug my nails into his wrist, dragging down hard.
Blood welled up.
He didn’t even flinch.
His face looked almost... affectionate.
"Forget about that man," he whispered. "Stay with ."
My vision blurred. My teeth chattered from shock. My body shook so hard I couldn’t control it.
"This is madness," I gasped.
"I won’t care about your past," he said, voice tightening, possession sharpening every word. "After I clean you up... you’ll be mine. Only mine."
My instincts scread, furious and helpless, slamming against my ribs like they wanted out.
I fought with everything I had left, trying to break free.
"Yael let go!"
But the pain swallowed the room.
My strength slipped away like water through my fingers.
Everything went dark.
I collapsed in his arms.
And as I fell into unconsciousness, I heard his soft, possessive whisper against my ear
"Elena... my precious."
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