Chapter Two: Soft Spots
580 Words
The Dreams were the worst part.
They didn't feel like dreams. They felt like memories - his. A battlefield soaked in blood. A woman's throat torn open with reverence. Hnads in chains, not unlike the ones I'd seen yesterday, but the surroundings blurred into darkness...and silk.
When I woke, my sheets were tangled between my legs, my body flushed and damp. I stared at the ceiling of my apartment for what felt like hours, trying to convince myslef it was just exhaustion. Sleep deprivation. A stress reaction.
I didn't believe it for a second.
By the time I walked into the facility again, my face was a carefully composed mask. Flat shoes, loose blouse. no makeup. My usual armor.
"You're early," the guard at Lucien's chamber said. "Sure you want to go in alone again?"
I didn't answer. I keyed in the override code and stepped into the obs deck.
Lucien was already waiting.
Today, he was seated on the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed like some medieval monk.
He looked.... peaceful. Almost. Until his eyes opened.
"Doctor Vale." His Voice slid into the room like smoke under a door. "You look rested."
"I'm not," I said, sitting opposite him. "I had dreams."
He tilted his head. "About me?"
"About war. Chains. And blood."
A pause. Then a slow smile.
"Ah. The bond is beginning."
I narrowed my eyes. "There is no bond."
He only watched me. "You touched my file. Read it. You spoke my name aloud. You sat in a room with me, within breathing distance. You're already inside the current, Sienna."
It was the first time he used my name. It struck something low in my stomach.
I straightened in my seat. "Let's stay on topic. Tell me what triggered your last attack."
His chains tightened as he stood with slow grace, and suddenly I was all too aware of how close we really were. How thin the glass wall behind me felt.
Lucien moved like a dancer, or a wolf. He circled behind me - not too close, but enough that the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.
"You want to know what set me off?" he murmured. "She wore a ribbon around her neck. Red valvet. I asked her to take it off."
I swallowed. "And she refused?"
He leaned forward just enough for me to feel the heat of his breath. "No. She begged me to pull it tighter"
I exhaled shakily.
Lucien sat down again, slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. "You want answers, Doctor? Stop hiding behind your clipboard. Ask the question you really came here for."
I forced my voice steady. "Why didn't you kill her?"
Silence stretched.
He smiled, slow and dangerous. "Because she said please."
he rest of the session blurred into low conversation. Careful back-and-forth. Observations and power plays. He was peeling me back, layer by layer, like silk slipping from shoulders.
By the end of the hour, I felt stripped raw and breathless.
I made it halfway to the exit before I turned around.
"Lucien," I said.
He looked up at me.
"Why me?"
He didn't hesitate. "Because you're the only one who doesn't flinch when I show my teeth."
That night, I touched myself to the sound of his voice in my head.
Not his face. Not even his body.
Just his voice.
And when I came, I bit down on my own wrist to keep myself from moaning his name.
- Writer
