Chapter 72

Chapter 72
I lay on the bed with my back pressed against the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as though if I looked hard enough, I could disappear into it. My body shook, though whether from fear or exhaustion I couldn't tell anymore.
Adrik was there, close, too close — his presence heavy and consuming, every movement of his shadow spilling across me until I felt swallowed whole. The air between us burned with his heat, his breath brushing against my skin, steady, unhurried, while mine came in broken gasps.
I don't know how long we've been like this. Minutes blurred into hours, hours into something endless. My throat ached from the screams that had torn free earlier, but now nothing came out. I think I've lost my voice entirely.
The room was filled with the sound of him — the weight of his breathing, the creak of the mattress beneath his movements, the quiet words he muttered against my ear. Promises. Threats. Each one sinking into me like iron nails.
I clutched the sheets beneath me, nails biting into fabric, my body rigid and trembling as though braced for impact after impact.
And still, time dragged on.
My mind drifted, trying to leave, trying to slip out of my body and find a place he couldn't follow. But no matter how far I tried to retreat, he was there. Always there. His voice. His grip. His presence devouring me whole.
I don't know when the night will end. I only know that when it does, I will never be the same again.

I lay on the bed, my back pressed against the mattress, the sheets cool beneath me but my skin burning as though fire licked at it. My breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the ceiling blurring above me.
Adrik was close. Too close. His shadow covered me entirely, blotting out the dim light of the room until it felt like I was drowning under it. He didn't rush. He didn't have to. His presence alone was enough to cage me.
"I've missed you so much..." he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, almost tender but edged with something feral. He reached out, his fingers brushing the side of my face, the touch soft but inescapable. "You don't even understand how much."
I flinched at his words, at the way they slithered through the room like smoke. My stomach knotted. My fingers curled tighter around the sheets, my nails leaving crescent marks in the fabric.
"I waited," he continued, leaning closer, his breath hot against my ear. "I thought about you every night. Every second. And now..." His voice dipped lower, darker. "Now you're here. Where you belong."
The weight of his body, his scent, his words — all of it pressed against me until I could barely breathe. My throat ached. My lips parted, but no sound came. I felt myself sinking into the bed, as though the mattress might swallow me whole if I stayed very still.
His thumb traced my jawline, deceptively gentle. "Do you know what it's like, Joy?" he whispered. "To crave someone so much it hurts? To be starved of them?"
His eyes met mine, and I saw it again — that same hunger, that same madness. It was not love. It was consumption.
"I've missed you," he said again, the words a promise and a threat all at once. "And I won't let you run again."

Suddenly, Adrik's grip tightened and the world tilted beneath me. My body jolted violently with the force of his movements, the bed creaking under the weight of his relentless rhythm.
His strength, his stamina, it still terrified me — as if he could go on forever, never tiring, never letting me breathe. Each motion shook me to my core, rattling through my bones until I thought they might crack beneath him.
A guttural sound left his throat, low and frighteningly primal, and my own hands moved without thinking — clawing at his back, leaving scratches down his skin as if anchoring myself to reality. My nails dug deep, marking him, but it only seemed to fuel the hunger burning in his eyes.
Every movement of his body felt like a storm breaking me apart. My chest heaved, my throat ached, and still, he pressed on with that same feral drive, as though he was determined to consume me whole.

The room smelled of sweat and shadows when it was finally over. My body felt like it wasn't mine anymore, numb in places, burning in others. I lay on the edge of the bed, staring at the ceiling, refusing to look at him though I could feel the heat of his presence still beside me. Every breath I took came ragged, as though the air itself was poisoned.
Adrik didn't speak at first. He only watched, his gaze heavy and possessive, like a predator admiring the prey he had already claimed. When he finally moved, it wasn't with tenderness—it was with the casualness of someone who had never questioned his right to take.
"You've gotten thinner," he murmured in Russian, almost to himself, his hand brushing down my side. "But don't worry, my love. I'll fix that. I'll make you whole again."
A shiver ran through me, not from his touch, but from the suffocating reminder that I was trapped. He had found me. He had taken me back in the only way he knew how—by breaking me.
I wanted to cry, but my tears wouldn't come. All I could think of was Grandma. His words earlier haunted me—She's unconscious... already on her way to Russia. My chest tightened. If that was true, then there was no safe place left in this world.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Elsa curled up on the couch, her small body rising and falling in shallow sleep. Relief and guilt washed over me at once. She was safe—for now. But she was also bait, the reason he had found me in the first place.
"Tomorrow," Adrik said finally, his voice low and commanding as he adjusted himself and stood, "you'll wake up in your rightful place. Beside me. No more running. No more hiding."
I squeezed the sheets in my fists, holding on to something, anything, that was still mine. My body trembled, but my spirit whispered that I had to endure. Not for me—maybe I was already lost—but for Grandma, for Elsa, for the faint possibility that someday, somehow, I could escape him again.
The silence stretched, heavy and unbearable, until the sound of his footsteps faded as he left the room. Only then did I allow my body to curl in on itself, shaking violently.