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“What are you doing here?” I whispered once he removed his hand. “How did you find me?”

He pet my head, and I leaned into the warmth of his hand. His gentleness was so nice, compared to Brandon’s constant coldness. I forgot how nice it was to be touched with such care.

“My sweet bluebird, you had to know I’d find you eventually. He took you away from me, I had to get you back. It was the only way I could keep you safe.” He leaned closer, right next to my ear. “I’ll always find you, bluebird.”

Was I really safer with Malakar though? Wouldn’t I be safer away from both of them? But I believed him anyways. Malakar made me feel better than Brandon. Malakar actually felt remorse when he hurt me, Brandon didn’t. That had to mean something, right?

“You can’t be here, Malakar. Brandon might wake up.” I looked over at Brandon. He was still passed out.

Malakar shook his head. “No, he won’t. I made sure of it. I injected a drug into him before you woke. He won’t be awake to bother us.”

His words rang in my head, messy and sweet and wrong all at once.

I remembered what it felt like to bleed for him. The sting under my skin. The way the dark crawled out from his mouth, his hands. He was in the room with me, real as ever, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be. Not really.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” He asked. He twisted a fist in my hair, yanked my head back, exposing my throat to him. “I can smell it on you, bluebird. The craving. The need. You thought about me every fucking night, didn’t you?”

I could barely breathe. My thoughts rattled around, wild and confused, but clear where it counted. I did miss him. I missed him even when I was supposed to hate him. “Yes,” I whispered, voice small, “I missed you.”

The dark flickered inside his eyes. Even through the mask I could feel him staring, drilling through me, splitting my chest from the inside.

He tore my shirt open, exposing my naked body to him.

His hands bruised my skin. Fingers around my throat. Not enough to kill, only enough to remind me I was prey, that there were worse monsters than him and right now, I wanted this one.

“Good girl,” he hissed, squeezing my neck until the world shrank to a tunnel, his body, his heat, the edge of his rage.

One hand pinning my arms above my head, the other between my legs. He forced my knees apart, ignored my feeble attempt to close them. “You always want this,” he growled. “Doesn’t matter where you go, what cage they put you in. You’ll always crawl back. You need it. You need me.”

Malakar pressed two fingers inside, shoving open the mess of me. I whimpered, shaking. Wet already. He spat on his fingers, rubbed it into my clit in relentless circles. I shuddered. My hips twitched up to meet him, my traitorous body chasing every movement. “You’re a whore,” he said. “But you’re my whore. Say it.”

“I’m your whore,” I rasped, shame burning in my belly, then splintering to something hotter.

He groaned at the sound of my words. His hands tore my pajama shorts off. He pressed his face into my hair and just breathed me in, wild and shaking. “You fuck me up,” he said.

Brandon was still passed out on the other half of the bed. I kept waiting for him to wake up. The terror just made it more intense.

Malakar’s mask pressed against my cheek, burlap scraping. He twisted his fingers hard, grinding his palm against my clit. I sobbed, the noise dying in my throat. If I woke Brandon, there was no telling what would happen. Maybe I wanted to find out. Maybe I was sick enough to crave the violence.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, voice so shaky it didn’t sound real. “Please.”

“Filthy. You’re fucking filthy. You want me to claim you with him right there, don’t you?”

I shook, tears on my face. I nodded anyway.

Words poured out of him, his voice breaking. “I missed you. I missed this pussy. I thought about splitting you open every night.”

He didn’t give me a second to reply. He fumbled his belt, the zipper, yanked out his cock and lined it up. He shoved himself in all at once.

The pain was blinding. I screamed into the sheets. The soreness tore me up inside. He didn’t slow down, just grabbed my knee and fucked into me with a violence that felt holy, evil, perfect.

“You’re so tight,” he hissed. “You’re dripping for it, bluebird. You act like you’re scared but you’re squeezing my cock like you’ll die if I stop.”

His hand wrapped around my throat as he fucked into me. Despite the terror, despite the shock of his presence, I moaned for him. He was a creature in the black, his shadow moving above me, burlap haunting my vision.

Brandon’s body was limp and silent next to me. I looked over and squinted in the dark. He was there, still, oblivious to the sinful act happening next to him.

Malakar pushed my legs further back until I was folded into myself. He used all of his brute strength to overpower me, to fuck me, to hold me down so I couldn’t run. Little did he know, I wouldn’t run. He was my monster, but I wouldn’t run.