Chapter Eight – His Possession
437 Words
The night was suffocating, though the windows were wide open.
I could still feel Isabelle’s words echoing in my mind: “Lucien doesn’t collect things he doesn’t intend to keep.”
I tried to focus on my own thoughts, on strategies for escape, for defiance—but Lucien Blackwood had a way of consuming every corner of your mind.
I didn’t hear him approach until he was behind me.
“Elara.”
I stiffened.
He didn’t touch me at first. He just stood there, silent, his presence pressing down, heavy as the walls themselves.
“I saw you watching her,” he said finally, his voice low and smooth. “During dinner.”
I swallowed, my throat dry. “I wasn’t… I was…”
“You were jealous,” he finished for me. “I saw it.”
I tried to shake my head. “I’m not.”
Lucien stepped closer, and the faint scent of his cologne filled the space around me—sharp, intoxicating, and terrifying all at once.
“Good,” he whispered. “Because jealousy isn’t the word I’d use.”
His hand brushed mine, deliberate, brushing my knuckles. A spark of electricity shot through me.
“You feel threatened,” he said, his lips close enough for me to feel the warmth of his breath. “Because someone else dared to exist in the same world as you… and me.”
I shook my head, trying to maintain distance. “I don’t—”
He closed the gap. One hand slid to my waist, the other brushing my hair back from my face. “You don’t get to choose, Elara.”
I stared into his eyes, dark and impossible, and realized the truth I’d been avoiding.
He owned me.
Not legally. Not by the contract.
But by the gravity he exuded, by the intensity that pinned me to the ground even when my legs could move.
“You will remember this moment,” he whispered. “This is what it feels like to belong to me.”
I tried to push him away, but his grip was iron. He let me struggle just enough to make the lesson sting.
“Lucien—please!” I gasped.
“No,” he said simply. “You’re mine, Elara. And you’ll learn to accept it, one way or another.”
For the first time, I felt the walls of the estate close in entirely—not just physical walls, but invisible chains of fear, fascination, and desire that he had wrapped around me.
I realized something terrifying: I couldn’t escape him.
Not now. Not ever.
- Writer
