Chapter 3 What do you want from me

Aria's heart slammed against her ribcage as Dorian stepped into the room. His presence felt like an oppressive storm, swallowing up the space around him. The dim light from the city outside cast long shadows, deepening the hollowness in her chest. She hadn't expected him to show up tonight, not like this. Not when the weight of the day still pressed on her.

"You're not sleeping," he observed, his voice cold, like it always was.

She narrowed her eyes, struggling to find her voice. "What do you want from me?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked further into the room, his gaze never leaving her. His eyes were too sharp, too calculating, as though he could see straight through her. It made her skin crawl.

"I've been patient," Dorian said after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm done waiting."

Aria's pulse quickened, and she instinctively backed away from him, only to stop when her back hit the cold wall behind her. "What does that mean?"

He moved closer, his tall frame towering over her. She felt small beneath his gaze, trapped in the immensity of his presence. "It means you and I are no longer pretending," he said, his eyes narrowing. "We are husband and wife now. And I expect you to act like it."

Her breath hitched in her throat, the weight of his words sinking in deeper. "What do you mean by that?"

Dorian didn't give her a chance to speak further. He was close now-too close. The air between them was thick with tension, his coldness pressing against her, suffocating her.

"I've made my choice," he murmured, voice low, intense. "You'll give me what I want. No more games. No more excuses."

Aria's stomach twisted. "I won't-"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Aria." His hand shot out, gripping her wrist with a force that was unyielding. His touch was possessive, like a brand being seared into her skin. "You're mine now. And you'll give me an heir. I won't allow you to drag this out any longer."

She jerked her wrist back, her heart pounding in her chest. "You can't control me."

A cruel smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I think you'll find that I can."

Her body tensed as his gaze raked over her, stripping her of every last ounce of dignity she had left. The way he looked at her-it was the way a man might look at a possession. A tool to be used.

"I've been patient, Aria," he repeated, his voice darkening. "But I'm done being patient."

"Then why don't you just take what you want?" she snapped, the words flying from her mouth before she could stop them. "Why don't you just force me to give you a child and get this over with?"

For a brief moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes-something dangerous, something that made her stomach churn.

"I'm not asking for just a child," he said slowly, his grip tightening around her wrist. "I'm asking for everything you have. Your body. Your obedience. Your trust."

She swallowed hard, feeling her anger rise like a wave threatening to drown her. She would not let him take this from her. She would not let him take her dignity.

"You can't make me trust you," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. "You can't just order me to love you. I'll never love you."

His expression hardened, but he didn't let go of her wrist. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against her ear, making her skin prickle.

"Who said anything about love?" he whispered. "I don't need your love. I need an heir. And you're going to give me one. Whether you like it or not."

The words were like ice, cutting into her with brutal finality. There was no room for negotiation. No room for escape. And the worst part? He was right. She had no power here. Not anymore.

"Do you understand?" he asked, his voice so soft it sent a chill through her bones.

She nodded, unable to find her voice. The silence that followed was suffocating.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The tension in the air was unbearable. And then, without warning, Dorian released her wrist, stepping back and turning toward the door.

"You have until tomorrow to prepare yourself," he said, his voice cool, indifferent. "Then we begin."

Aria stood frozen, her mind spinning. Her body was still trembling, her heart racing in her chest. She wanted to scream. To fight back. But she knew, deep down, that it was pointless.

He had already won.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long while, Aria stood there, staring at the empty space where he had been. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her pulse raced. She had never felt more powerless.

The following days were a blur of emptiness and coldness. Dorian kept his distance, as he always did, but his presence loomed over her like a storm cloud waiting to break. He didn't need to say anything more; the silence between them was enough to remind her of her place in his world.

She was nothing more than a tool-a means to an end.

She had always known that, deep down. But now, it felt like the truth was suffocating her.

On the fourth day after their marriage, Dorian came to her again, as cold and ruthless as ever.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice sharp, calculating. There was no warmth in his gaze, no tenderness. Only an unyielding demand for what he wanted.

Aria had no choice but to nod. The moment she had dreaded was upon her. There was no turning back.

Dorian studied her for a moment, then reached out to grab her hand. His grip was firm, possessive. "Good. We begin now."

And just like that, her world shifted once again, this time deeper into his grip. She was a prisoner of her own making, bound by a contract she couldn't escape.

But there was a fire beneath the ice. And it was growing.

Cliffhanger:

As Dorian led her down the long hallway, Aria felt something stir inside her-something dark, something dangerous. She wasn't sure if it was fear or anger, but it was enough to keep her from breaking down.

There was something she wasn't seeing. Something Dorian wasn't telling her.

And she would find it.