Alone
952 Words
Elle POV
Darkness wasn’t just around me.
It was in me.
Thick. Heavy. Alive.
The restraints kept me arched back against the cold table, my breath trembling through the gag with every exhale. I couldn’t move more than an inch. The collar pressed into my throat each time I swallowed. My legs strained uselessly, held wide by chains that clinked quietly with every shiver.
But the silence he left behind was worse than the bindings.
He’d walked away.
Left me—bound, blind, gagged—without a second thought.
Blake had never seemed so monstrous.
And yet… never so human.
Minutes stretched.
Then hours.
Or maybe only moments. It was impossible to tell, trapped in a world of darkness and metal and my own heartbeat.
My fear pulsed loudest.
Fear of him.
Fear of myself.
Fear of how much I wanted him to return.
I hated the part of me that waited for his footsteps.
The air still smelled of him—embers and something ancient—like he lingered even when gone. My body, traitorous and warm from his nearness, now felt cold without his heat.
I tested the restraints.
They didn’t budge.
My wrists ached.
My legs trembled.
My throat tightened around a quiet sob.
The gag softened it.
Think, I told myself.
But thinking didn’t help.
All I felt was the ghost of his touch—his anger—his restraint.
He could have taken me.
He didn’t.
Why?
The question circled like a predator.
Each time it passed, it tore at another piece of me.
A soft vibration hummed from the collar—some internal mechanism resetting. The sound startled me enough that I jerked, metal scraping as the table absorbed my tremor.
He said I would be safe.
Did that still hold true?
I breathed slowly, forcing calm.
I thought of the life I’d had before him.
The loneliness.
And then Blake.
He was worse.
Better.
Both.
My chest tightened with something painful—something that felt too much like longing.
Footsteps finally echoed outside the room.
My breath froze.
Not heavy like Blake.
Not measured like Amber.
Lighter.
Faster.
Two distinct sets.
Voices murmured outside the door—
Not Blake’s.
Not anyone I knew.
My pulse spiked.
Fear surged icy through my limbs, making the restraints rattle softly.
The door handle shifted.
I panicked, straining against the leather and metal, a muffled whimper breaking past the gag.
Not him.
Not him.
Please—not someone else.
The voices hushed.
A pause.
Soft.
Tense.
Then—
A familiar, deep voice, roughened by fury, snapped through the crack:
“Leave.”
Relief hit me so hard it nearly hurt.
A heartbeat later, the door slammed.
Heavy steps approached—his steps—each one pulsing through the floor, into my spine, into my ribs. My body tensed instinctively.
His breath reached me first—hot, uneven, shaking with barely-checked rage.
Not at me.
At whoever had dared come near this room.
Metal shifted as he placed something down.
Then silence.
The kind that held storms.
Finally, he exhaled.
“Little wolf.”
My entire body stilled.
His tone wasn’t gentle.
But it wasn’t the monster, either.
It was something in between.
Something fraying at the edges.
“I shouldn’t have left you so long.”
Leather thudded softly—his hand resting against the restraining strap near my ribs. Not touching me. Just close. The nearness made me shiver.
“I frightened you.”
It wasn’t a question.
A warm finger brushed a tear that slipped down my cheek. My throat tightened painfully around the gag.
“Don’t cry.”
His voice wavered.
Barely.
But enough for me to hear the fracture.
“I said I would keep you safe,” he murmured. “I meant it. Even from myself.”
The table dipped as he leaned over me, his heat hovering inches from my skin.
“Today,” he whispered, voice a low growl of shame, “I almost failed.”
My breathing hitched.
His knuckles skimmed along my collar—not touching flesh, only tracing the metal that bound me.
“I didn’t come back because I was angry at you.”
A pause, thick with something raw.
“I came back because I was afraid.”
I swallowed against the gag.
Afraid… for me?
He inhaled slowly, like he was pulling himself together piece by piece.
“These restraints stay,” he said. “For your safety. For mine.”
His hand finally touched me—flat palm against my sternum—steady, grounding.
Not claiming.
Not punishing.
Just… holding me to the world.
“You asked me to take all of you,” he whispered. “But you don’t understand what that means yet.”
Another breath—tortured.
“And until you do… I will not touch you like that again.”
My chest ached with a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.
He unbuckled the gag, pulling it gently free.
Cool air rushed into my mouth, and I gasped.
Before I could speak, he rested a finger lightly against my lips.
“Not yet.”
He unclasped the head restraint last.
The pressure eased.
But the blindness didn’t.
The potion still held.
His hand hovered near my cheek.
“I won’t free your arms yet,” he murmured. “You’re trembling.”
I hadn’t realized until he said it.
He loosened the leather across my torso, rubbing warmth back into my chilled skin with slow circles.
Not sensual.
Soothing.
Quiet.
“I won’t leave again,” he said.
His voice broke on the last word.
“I’m right here.”
And for the first time since he’d walked out…
I believed him.
- Writer
