Chapter 4 Your obsession is dangerous

Mikhail's POV

I tried my best to sign, my hands shaking as I desperately attempted to convey something, anything that might make him stop-just for a moment. I was tired, exhausted from the constant fear and pain. My body ached, both from the lingering bruises and from the mental strain that had been building up for years. I sighed, my breath shaky, and finally signed, "I'm sorry... but-"

Before I could finish my sentence, Colton's anger exploded. He didn't let me get the chance to explain or finish the thought. With a sudden force, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, yanking me out of the bed with brutal strength. My body jolted as I was pulled upright, and I winced in pain, the sudden movement aggravating the injuries I had been trying to ignore.

I closed my eyes, the world spinning for a moment, and instinctively, I hugged myself, curling in on the pain that was surging through me. Every part of me screamed for release, for relief, but I knew that was never going to come. It hurt, physically and emotionally-his hands, his anger, his control.

"You think you can talk your way out of this?" Colton's voice was a low growl, dripping with frustration and fury. He pulled me closer, his grip tightening as I tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The strength he wielded over me was suffocating, and the power dynamic had never been more clear. He was the predator, and I was the prey. "You're mine, Mikhail. I told you that. You don't get to apologize or make excuses."

My body trembled, the cold realization of his words cutting deeper than any physical wound he had inflicted. I wanted to speak, to tell him that I didn't want this, that I didn't want him-but my throat felt tight, and my words were trapped behind a wall of fear. His scent was overwhelming, mint and dominance, and it burned my senses, making it harder to think straight.

The force with which he held me made it impossible to move or break free. "Do you think this is some kind of game?" Colton continued, his grip showing no sign of loosening. "You don't get to make the rules here, Mikhail. You don't get to leave or escape. You belong to me, and I decide what happens next."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a heavy, suffocating blanket. The tears that had threatened to fall finally started to sting at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them slip. I couldn't show him that kind of weakness-not again.

"I didn't... mean it," I signed shakily, trying to convey that I wasn't trying to defy him, that I was sorry for whatever it was that had angered him, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes were dark with fury, his breathing fast and uneven, as though my apology only fueled his anger more.

"Enough!" he snapped, his voice loud and commanding. "You don't get to speak anymore. You will learn, Mikhail, that your silence doesn't change anything. You will obey me. And if you don't-" He trailed off, leaving the threat hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

His hands tightened again, and I could feel the pressure building, the heat radiating from him. It was overwhelming, all-consuming. I wanted to break free, to run, but I knew that it was futile. Colton was always one step ahead, always controlling every situation, every aspect of my life. And I hated him for it-hated that he could control me so easily, hated how much power he had over me.

But the truth was, I was trapped. And no matter how hard I fought, I couldn't escape.

I couldn't help it-the sobs wracked my body as I hugged myself tighter, my arms trembling from the weight of the emotions I could no longer suppress. The pain was too much to bear, the crushing reality of my situation too overwhelming. I wanted to escape, to run away from it all, but deep down, I knew I was trapped, shackled to this existence where every moment felt like I was suffocating.

Colton's hand rose, and for a split second, I thought he was going to hurt me again, to bring more pain into my life. I flinched instinctively, my whole body tensing, bracing for the blow that I was so used to receiving. But to my shock, his hand didn't strike me-no, instead, it gently caressed my cheek. The touch was soft, almost tender, as if it was trying to comfort me. But there was nothing comforting about it. The very gentleness of the gesture only made me more terrified. It was like a predator using kindness as a weapon, a way to lure me into a false sense of safety.

His voice was low, dangerously calm, and yet there was a weight behind his words that made my heart race. "You are the most precious and beautiful omega I've ever seen," he murmured, his eyes dark with something I couldn't quite understand-was it admiration or possession? It was impossible to tell, but the way he said it, like I was some sort of treasure, made me feel sick. "And I will bury anyone who tries to think of you, talk to you, or admire you."

The intensity of his gaze made my stomach twist. His words hung heavy in the air, and I could almost feel the danger in them, the threat lurking beneath his carefully chosen phrases. It wasn't love he spoke of-it was obsession. It wasn't admiration-it was control. He wasn't protecting me; he was locking me down, chaining me to him with his words, his power, his unrelenting need to keep me all to himself.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat as his words sunk deeper into my mind, into my soul. How could he say something like that? How could he look at me, with all the bruises and scars-both visible and hidden-and call me beautiful, precious? His twisted perception of what I was, what I meant to him, made my skin crawl.

"You think this is love?" I wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come, my throat tight with fear. Instead, I signed desperately, shaking my head, pleading with him to understand how wrong this was. How wrong he was.

But his eyes softened just for a moment, a brief flicker of something-guilt? Regret? No, it was just the fleeting glimpse of control shifting, showing just how tightly he held the reins on me. "I know you don't understand," he said softly, almost as if trying to reassure himself. "But you will. In time, you'll see that everything I do, everything I say, is for you."

I wanted to cry, to scream at him that I didn't want his "love," that I didn't need his twisted protection. But all I could do was sit there, paralyzed, my body too weak, my mind too clouded with the horror of it all. I had no voice in this, no agency, no choice.

"You are mine," Colton continued, his words sharp and final, as if he had already claimed me completely, as if there was no possibility of escape, no room for resistance. "And I will make sure you know that, every day, until you stop fighting me."

The air around us grew thick, heavy with his presence, with his dominance, with the oppressive weight of his obsession. I could feel the last remnants of my spirit breaking, crumbling under the pressure of his words, of his touch, of the prison I could never seem to escape. I wanted to fight back, to be free, but all I felt was helplessness, my body and mind weighed down by the chains of his control. And in that moment, I realized-I was truly, completely, and utterly trapped.

I gathered every ounce of courage I had left, forcing my trembling hands to sign the words I so desperately needed to say. I wasn't sure if he'd hear me, if my voice could reach him through the suffocating fog of his twisted thoughts. But I had to try. I couldn't remain silent anymore. I couldn't allow him to keep drowning me in his delusions.

With all the strength I could muster, I signed fiercely, "You're insane. You can't claim me as yours. I'm not some kind of object for you to control, to mold in whatever image you see fit."

I dared to meet his gaze, my eyes filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. For a brief moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, my words had gotten through to him. But before I could even process the fleeting hope, his hand shot out with terrifying speed, grabbing my jaw in a vice-like grip.

The pressure of his fingers digging into my skin made me gasp, and I could feel my heart hammering wildly in my chest as my body tensed instinctively. His thumb pressed painfully against my cheek as he squeezed harder, forcing my face to tilt upwards to meet his piercing eyes. The darkness in them was unmistakable-a storm of fury and possessiveness that chilled me to the bone.

"You think you're in a position to tell me what I can and can't do?" Colton's voice was low, barely a growl as his grip tightened. "You think you can defy me?" His words were laced with venom, each syllable dripping with contempt.

I felt my pulse quicken, the air growing thick with tension as I struggled to break free from his hold. My mind raced, but all I could think of was how easily he could crush me, how easily he could destroy me with his anger, his strength.

His face leaned in closer, and I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, his minty scent suffocating me as he whispered, "You belong to me, Mikhail. Don't ever forget that."

I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the words caught in my throat, trapped by the fear that surged through me. I was nothing more than prey in his eyes, nothing more than an object to possess. And no matter how hard I tried to resist, no matter how hard I tried to claw my way out of this nightmare, his dominance, his control-his obsession-was suffocating me.

His grip loosened slightly, just enough for me to take a shallow breath, but the weight of his words hung in the air like a storm about to break. He wasn't done with me yet, not by a long shot.

I slowly sat down and hugged myself, harshly wipes my tears. I was once a beautiful omega in the village, people admire me for having a pretty face eversince I'm young-Mom would be so proud about it but now-being pretty is a curse.

"Get up." Colton said and went infront of me. "Your hands, Give me your hands." He ordered. I'm hesitant but I obeyed, I can't say no-he had a severe anger issue. I shaky lift my wounded hands infront of him and then second later a heavy and cold metal kiss my wrist. I looks at my wrist and saw a chain-what?

I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as I stared at the cold, heavy metal that now bound my wrist. A chain. The feeling of it wrapped tightly around my skin sent a wave of panic coursing through me. My hands trembled uncontrollably, the weight of the metal around my wrist anchoring me in place, reminding me that I was trapped-completely, utterly trapped.

Colton stood in front of me, his eyes cold and unwavering, as if the sight of the chain pleased him. I tried to pull my hand back instinctively, but the chain didn't budge. It was as if it had been welded onto me, making it impossible to escape. I swallowed hard, fighting the rising panic in my chest, the realization sinking in that there was no way out of this.

"What's this?!" I signed, my hands shaking as I desperately tried to make sense of what he had done.

Colton's lips curled into a twisted smile, his gaze dark and possessive as he stepped closer. "It's a reminder," he said slowly, his voice laced with authority, "A reminder of who you belong to now."

My heart sank, the weight of his words crashing over me. I wanted to scream, to shout that I was not his to claim, that I was not some object he could chain up and own. But the words caught in my throat, my voice swallowed by the fear that tightened around me like a vice.

"You're mine, Mikhail." Colton's voice was low and steady, as if the words were a simple fact. "And I will never let you go."

I shook my head, trying to deny the truth of his words, but it felt impossible. The chain was cold, suffocating, and it wrapped around my heart as much as it did my wrist. There was no escape, no place to hide. I was his-whether I liked it or not.

Colton crouched down in front of me, his hand reaching for my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His touch was cold, but there was a strange tenderness to it that made my skin crawl.

"You can cry all you want, Mikhail," he whispered softly, his thumb brushing away a tear from my cheek. "But it won't change anything. You will learn to accept what you are to me."

I wanted to push him away, to tell him that I would never accept this, that I would never bow to his will. But the words wouldn't come. All I could do was sit there, my body trembling, my heart breaking under the weight of his claim. I had once dreamed of freedom, of a life where I wasn't someone's possession. But now... that dream seemed like a distant memory, slipping further away with each passing moment.

Tears streamed down my face as I tugged and pulled at the cold chain that now bound me, but it was useless. The metal didn't give, and with every desperate attempt to free myself, my hands only grew more bruised. My chest tightened with the suffocating weight of it all, the overwhelming sense of powerlessness threatening to drown me. The sobs came in ragged gasps, my body shaking violently as the tears blurred my vision. This was too much-too far. He couldn't do this. He couldn't chain me up like I was some animal.

"Let me go!" I signed angrily, my hands shaking as they moved faster, my desperation making the words harder to form. "I hate you! I hate you!" I signed as forcefully as I could, though my voice cracked with the intensity of my feelings. Every sign, every word, felt like a final cry of defiance against the cruel reality I found myself in.

Colton's expression darkened, but there was no anger in his eyes-only a chilling calmness, a coldness that froze me to the core. He stepped closer to me, his gaze unwavering as he watched me struggle against the chain, watched me break down in front of him. It was as if my pain only amused him.

"You hate me?" He asked, his voice cold, detached, as though my feelings didn't matter to him. "You hate me, but you're still here. Still mine."

His words cut through me like a knife, each syllable filled with such smug certainty that I wanted to scream, to tell him he was wrong, that I would fight, that I would find a way to escape. But I was chained to the ground-physically, emotionally, spiritually-and no matter how hard I fought, I couldn't break free.

"Don't you get it?" Colton continued, his eyes studying me with an unsettling calmness. "You're mine. And I will never let you go. You're not allowed to hate me, Mikhail. Not anymore. You'll learn to love me, to accept what I am offering you."

His words felt like poison, each one sinking deeper into my mind, warping my thoughts. I wanted to deny it, wanted to scream that he was wrong, but I was too broken, too lost in the reality he had trapped me in.

"I'll make you understand," he said softly, his voice almost gentle now. "No one will take you from me. You're not allowed to leave. You're mine, Mikhail. And I will make you see that."

I shook my head furiously, my body trembling with the effort to resist, but I felt the weight of his words bearing down on me like an unshakable truth. How could I escape him when every move I made only seemed to tie me further to his will? The chain around my wrist felt like a symbol of everything I couldn't escape, everything that held me captive in this twisted reality. And with each passing moment, I could feel the last of my hope slipping away.

As the sound of Colton's footsteps faded away, I was left alone in the suffocating silence of my locked room. Weak and drained, I collapsed onto the cold floor, curling into myself, the chill of the stone seeping into my skin. My mind raced, thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess as I stared blankly at the ceiling. What did I do to deserve this? The question haunted me, echoing through my mind like a cruel, unanswered prayer. It seemed as though the world had twisted itself around me, trapping me in this nightmare that I couldn't escape.

Being an omega had never felt like a blessing, but here, in this twisted reality with Colton, it felt like nothing but a curse. A fate that had bound me to a world of suffering, pain, and degradation. I hated being omega-hated the helplessness that came with it, hated how it made me vulnerable to the whims of cruel men who saw me as nothing more than a possession. A toy to play with, a thing to use, that's all I had ever been to anyone who crossed my path.

But in the dark corners of my heart, there was one thing I clung to-one thing I would never let him take from me. My purity. My soul. My right to say no.

Colton had tried everything. He had beaten me, humiliated me, and broken me in ways I didn't even want to think about, but one thing remained untouched-my will. I would not give him what he wanted. Not now, not ever. Even if he tore me apart-physically, emotionally, mentally-I wouldn't let him break that last piece of myself.

I had resisted for years, and I would continue to resist, even if it meant suffering, even if it meant enduring his fury each time I refused. His cruel words, his violent actions, his demands-they didn't matter. He could mark me, he could hurt me, but he could never claim me fully. He could never have me in the way he so desperately wanted.

I refused to let him take that from me. I will not let him have me.

Each night, I lay on this cold floor, surrounded by the torment of my own thoughts, but I held onto that one truth, the only thing that kept me anchored in this hellish existence. The purity of my soul would remain my own. Even as Colton tried to break me down, even as he pushed me to the brink of insanity, I knew that I would never let him win.

I would fight. For myself. For my dignity. For the purity he would never steal. Even if it meant enduring the worst that he could do, I would never let go. I could endure the bruises, the cuts, the blows-but I would never, never let him claim what wasn't his to take.

And in that, there was a small, fragile spark of defiance, a spark that refused to be extinguished, no matter how hard he tried.