⚠ Content Warning:
This chapter contains scenes of sexual violence, attempted assault, physical abuse, and psychological trauma. It includes depictions of coercion, manipulation, and flashbacks to past abuse, which may be distressing or triggering for some readers. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
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Eva's voice wavered as she stood at the doorway.
"Your Grace… what brings you here this late?"
Duke Malric Vane's expression was unreadable under the dim glow of the corridor torch.
"It's my wife who needs you," he said.
Eva tilted her head. "Duchess?"
"Yes. She sent me here to bring you with me."
Eva hesitated, her fingers tightening on the edge of her sleeve. "Where is she right now?"
"In our bedchamber."
There was something in his tone—too casual, almost rehearsed—but Eva swallowed her unease and followed him.
When they reached the chamber, Duke Malric pushed the door open.
"Please, come inside. My wife is right there," he said, pointing toward the figure lying motionless on the bed.
Eva stepped in slowly, her steps muffled by the plush rug. She moved to the bedside and leaned down.
"Duchess, you wanted to see me?"
No answer.
Her brows drew together. "Duchess… are you alright?"
Still, only silence.
Eva reached out and shook her hand gently. "Is something wrong?"
Nothing.
She turned toward the duke. "Why isn't she saying anything?"
Malric's lips curved faintly. "She's not going to wake up, no matter how much you shout."
A strange chill crawled down Eva's spine. "What… do you mean by that?"
"I gave her a sleeping potion. That's why."
Her eyes widened. "A sleeping potion? But why—"
"So that she won't disturb us."
Eva's breath caught. Fear prickled along her skin.
With a click, the duke closed the door and turned the lock.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, stepping back.
"I just wanted to have a talk with you," he said, his voice low, the words almost a purr.
Duke Malric's gaze swept over her slowly, deliberately—
"You've become quite a beautiful young lady, Eva."
She stiffened, fingers curling into her skirts.
"I'm… sad," he continued, voice dropping to a murmur, "that you don't remember me."
A tremor rippled through her. "I… I don't know you."
"Oh," his lips curved in something too soft to be sincere, "but I remember you—clearer than daylight."
He stepped closer, close enough for the faint heat of his breath to touch her cheek. His shadow spilled over her, drowning her in its weight.
"My little angel."
The name was a thunderclap in her skull. It tore through her mind, ripping open doors she had locked long ago.
The air around her warped, the present blurring into a sickening rush of memory—faces, voices, the sharp scent of fear—until she could no longer tell if she was standing here or back there.
---
(Flashback – Years Ago)
"Elric Elvaris," her father said, "this is Duke Malric Vane. Say hello to your uncle."
Eva, barely eighteen, offered a polite curtsy. "Hello, Uncle."
Malric's smile was warm, almost doting. "What a polite child."
"How old are you now, my little angel?"
"I turned eighteen last week," she replied softly.
"Ah… forgive your uncle for missing your birthday." He placed a hand over his chest in mock regret. "But don't worry. I'll give you a wonderful birthday gift."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yes," he said, his smile deepening.
---
That Night
Knock… knock.
Eva, still in her nightgown, opened the door. "Uncle? What brings you here?"
"I came to give you your birthday gift," he said.
"Really?"
"Yes… may I come inside?"
"Of course."
He stepped in, and with an unsettling finality, turned the key in the lock.
Eva blinked. "Why are you locking the door?"
"I can't give you your gift without locking the door."
The unease in her chest bloomed into fear. She turned to run—
His hand shot out, grabbing her arm like a vice.
"Where do you think you're going?"
In one swift motion, Malric lifted her and threw her onto the bed.
"Please—let me go!" she cried, scrambling back.
"That," he said, looming over her, "I can't do."
Her voice rose, desperate. "Father! Mother—!"
But his palm clamped over her mouth, smothering the words.
After that—only darkness.
-----
(Present Time)
The memories slammed into her with such force her knees buckled. Her legs gave way, and she sank to the floor, breath ragged.
Malric's shadow loomed over her.
"I suppose," he said, his voice almost pleased, "you remember everything now."
His hand lifted, fingers stretching toward her face.
"Don't touch me," she whispered, the words breaking at the edges.
He chuckled—low, mocking. "Don't be like that. You act as though this is the first time I've touched you."
She flinched.
"Did you forget," he went on, "the beautiful night we spent together?"
Her voice trembled so hard it was barely a sound. "What… what do you want now?"
His eyes darkened. "I want to have that night with you again."
Eva pushed herself to her feet and turned to run—
His grip clamped around her ankle, yanking her off balance.
"Don't run away from me," he growled.
She kicked, scrambling backward, throwing anything within reach at him. "Help! Somebody—"
His hand shot up, clamping over her mouth.
"Stop shouting," he hissed.
Her body shook violently, tears streaming down her face.
"I heard you got married," he said suddenly.
Her body went rigid.
Malric's voice slithered into her ear.
"Does your husband know… about that night?"
Her tears welled faster, spilling down her cheeks as she stared at him in shock.
A slow smile curved his mouth. "Judging by your expression… you didn't tell him."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin. "And what do you think will happen… when he learns that his sweet, devoted wife already gave her body to another man?"
His gaze raked over her trembling form. "Do you think he'll still love you the same way?"
Eva's head moved in a tiny, helpless shake.
"No… right?" His smile was like a blade. "Then stop resisting. Be a good girl."
For a moment she froze, still trembling—then her hand darted out, grabbing his collar as she drove her knee hard between his legs.
Malric's face twisted in pain. His grip loosened.
Eva shoved herself up, bolting for the door—only to stumble over a wine bottle. She crashed to the floor, glass shattering under her. Jagged edges bit into her palms and feet, the sting hot and sharp.
Malric was on her again in seconds.
"You little—" Malric's snarl cut through the air a heartbeat before his hand cracked across her face.
Pain exploded along her cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth as her lip split.
"You've got some nerve to hit me," he hissed.
His gaze darted to the floor. A jagged shard of glass caught the candlelight. He bent, fingers curling around it.
"I'll teach you a lesson."
He reached for her, ripping at the fabric of her dress.
Eva's hands shot up, catching the shard before it reached her—its edge biting deep into her skin. Hot blood welled instantly, slicking her fingers.
Malric's eyes flared with rage. His arm drew back, ready to strike her again—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound was so sharp, so sudden, both froze.
Malric's voice was tense. "Who is it?"
From the other side came a voice
"Duke Malric Vane. Open the door. It's me—"
Eyan.