Chapter 29 - Don’t Make Me Call Your Father

Chapter 29: 29 - Don’t Make Me Call Your Father

Dickhead shifted his knees, grinding my wrists deeper into the dirt. I bucked beneath him, straining against the weights that clamped my limbs to the earth.

"You call me sick," I hissed between clenched teeth, "but you are all sick for allowing this to happen!"

"This is the only way to keep you out of trouble. And to save your life."

"Do you think I care about my life?! Go ahead!" I slammed my forehead into his nose, but he met it with his own, our skulls clashing like stones. "Fucking cut my throat! I’ll die with a smile knowing I’m finally free from your shit!"

My strength ebbed away as the drug took effect. Kurus tried to intervene, but Dickhead silenced him with a warning glare and withdrew the empty syringe.

My body went slack against my will. My limbs refused to respond fast enough. Numbness spread through my muscles, dulling my senses.

"Every time she goes on an uncontrollable killing spree," Dickhead continued, "her father will increase the weight load and lock her up inside her room, where she will undergo treatment until she calms down."

He shifted his weight, adjusting his stance. "Even though she looks old like Nivi, she is much older and went through more battles than me."

Kurus’s eyes flickered between my face and the restraints, his body coiled in indecision at the sight of my pathetic state. A low, anguished hiss escaped his throat.

"The miracle core you gave her reduced the effect of the calming serum." Dickhead had the gall to call it a fucking calming serum, making me spit in his direction again.

He wiped the glob off his cheek with the back of his hand. "It’s very difficult to make, but my people are already on their way to gather the ingredients in order to make a new one."

My glare snapped toward Kurus, who stood there like a useless piece of decoration. "Why the fuck are you just standing there?! You believe this piece of shit over me?!"

Kurus observed my struggle. Weak. Pinned. Helpless. A state he had never witnessed me in before. His lack of response only fueled my rage.

I bucked my hips, trying to dislodge Dickhead’s weight, but the drugs were taking hold, my movements growing sluggish. "So much for being my mate! Does the mate bond mean nothing to you?!"

Noodle flinched at the mention of the bond, his gaze faltering. "I’m not strong enough..." he whispered, "...to keep you as my mate."

"Then let’s die together!" I snarled, baring my teeth at him. "You promised me that much! You promised to stay by my side even if it means death! Do all beastmen break their promises that easily?!"

His eyes drifted back to the restraints as if searching for an excuse. "If we die, who will kill the ones who hurt you? I must live to kill them all first."

I screamed obscenities before snapping my jaw shut, teeth grinding against my tongue until blood flooded my mouth. I then slammed my skull against the packed earth. Once. Twice. Anything to escape this fucking nightmare.

"Stop that." Dickhead held my head and tried to pry my mouth open. "You’re going to hurt yourself."

He forced a thick, rough cloth into my mouth.

"Help me hold her down," Dickhead said. "Before she suffocates herself."

Kurus complied, his body shifting to press down on my legs, adding more weight to my already overloaded limbs.

They both received small injuries to their bodies and faces. But I was the one who felt my bones shattering under the combined pressure. Kurus was forced to use his tail to keep me still as I kept trying to rip Dickhead’s head off.

"Precious, your behavior gives me no choice but to call your father!"

My thrashing ceased, every muscle in my body tensing as if struck by lightning. A cold dread slithered down my spine at the mention of him.

"I might change my mind if you give me a little kiss," the Dickhead tried to apologize to me, rubbing his cheek against mine when he saw my reaction. But all I heard was a threat as he made me choose between his lips and my father.

"Go kiss his old ass, Dickhead."

Momentarily speechless, Dickhead was forced to do just that.

Kurus pressed down on my legs and arms, his weight pinning me to the ground as Dickhead straddled my chest, knees digging into my shoulders.

He took an item that looked like a gastropod shell from his chest pocket. He removed my gag and placed it on the ground next to my head, activating it.

The shell pulsed blue once, then a voice seized the air.

"What is it, Vicerion?"

Every syllable carried the weight of command, bending the very atmosphere to its will, as if even the laws of the universe would reshape themselves to obey.

It made my guts crawl, my blood run cold, and my sanity hang by a thread.

A/N: ¹