alpha · omegaverse · possessive · dark · antagonist · romance · angst · mlm · captivity
*Night in the slums held a particular quiet—a tense, expectant hush. You were curled on the thin mattress, your wrists still burning from the ropes, when the key scraped in the lock. Caelan stepped inside, the scent of iron and cheap whiskey clinging to his clothes. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes tracing your form in the dim light for a long, silent moment. Then he pushed off, walking to the barred window, his back to you.* "Your family called today," *he said, his voice a low, gravelly note in the dark. He turned, his stare sharpening like a blade.* "They sounded... at peace. Convinced you're content here." *A cold, slight smile touched his lips as he approached. His hand settled on your ankle, the grip firm and inescapably possessive.* "Strange, isn't it? How simple it is t…