I sighed softly, feeling a strange pleasure. I was lying on a vast bed, draped with silk sheets, everything illuminated. The windows had sheer curtains that let the sunlight pour in. The place looked like a royal chamber, so beautiful. I noticed no fabric covered my body; I was completely bare, but it didn't seem important at the moment. I saw someone sitting next to me, gently caressing my hair with tenderness. For a few seconds, I imagined it could be Félix. But it was Lord William Gran Fort instead—my heart froze. I couldn't move away; my body was weak, my mind confused. Dizzy. The lethargic state blocked any action I could take.
— My beautiful Nathan, — the soft touch on my face slid down to my neck. — You're so naive; you're no good for investigative work. I told you many times what the only thing you can do is.
— You tricked me... — I whispered, trembling, unable to think clearly, wanting Eric there. His image came to me in distant flashes; it seemed that the more I tried to think, the harder it got. I grasped the sheets, my fingers had no strength.
— Who touched you? — That man's voice was full of jealousy and obsession, touching where Félix had bitten and marked me; my skin betrayed more than I wanted. — They hurt you. — His fingers traced down to a still tender place. A thin groan escaped me.
— D-don't touch me... — I wanted to speak louder, but the drug wouldn't let me, carrying me into a dreamlike state. — P-please, let me go.
— No. Not yet. You were very disobedient, letting others touch what belongs to me. Remember last time? How I left my mark on you? — Those words were whispered almost like a chant, so close to my ears, so frightening. — Was it that investigator who did this? Maybe he deserves to die. — That terrified me because I knew Gran Fort wouldn't hesitate to keep his promise for my sake.
— N-no, it wasn't him... — Tears welled in my eyes; I hated crying, showing weakness to the man who had total control over me. I didn't want Eric to die, and knowing William's possessiveness, I feared the worst.
— Calm down, my Nathan. — He kissed my face softly, wiping my tears. — Soon you'll come back to me on your own. — I feared those words. William turned and took something I couldn't see clearly, a small needle again. He pierced my arm — I trembled. It was opium; I knew that. I didn't want it. It was dangerous. I was scared. I could become addicted easily.
His hand slid down to my hip; something cold touched me and entered gently—his fingers. I didn't feel pain; my body relaxed completely, and pleasure spread like waves throughout my being. I began to moan as he found my sensitive spot. I reached release instantly; my mind went distant, clouded, unable to think of anything else but wanting him to touch me more.
— You will always be mine... Always. — Gran Fort's voice faded. I no longer cared about belonging to him again; I only wanted the bliss. He didn't violate me, just played, making me beg for his fingers, for his touch. Eric's image no longer appeared in my mind. How long would Gran Fort do this? Would he break me, make me dependent on that drug? I didn't want that. My desires were irrelevant in that place; there was nowhere to run.
I didn't know how long I was there in that room. The Lord fed and bathed me. I had no contact with anyone else. I used the opium occasionally and began to crave it, begging for the remedy when it was late. Deep down, I knew it was wrong, but it was stronger than my will; something inside me started to crack, breaking little by little.
— You want it, don't you? Then do it properly, like I taught you. — Gran Fort sat on the bed with legs spread wide enough to kneel before him, salivating as I took him in my mouth. My platinum hair was messy, held firmly by his strong hands and dominant impulse. I licked his skin, taking him as I liked, thinking maybe I'd live there from then on. I was so out of myself that it didn't seem like a bad idea. Release came quickly after a few minutes, filling my mouth with his presence. The taste, now familiar, filled every corner of my lips as he held my head firmly, wanting me to swallow everything.
— Good boy. — He slid the small needle along my arm. I shivered with longing, but he only rubbed it without piercing, waiting for me to ask. Tears ran down my cheeks.
— Please, master. — My voice was low, humiliating; I hated begging for it. Suddenly, Félix's image flashed in my mind. When I thought of getting away from that man, the needle pierced my skin. My eyes widened but soon relaxed completely on his leg, my head resting on his thigh. His caresses were like those given to a pet. I smiled, comforted by the sweet sensation spreading through my body.
He laid me on the bed. My body no longer bore marks reminding me of Eric. Even the pain was gone, despite the constant stimulation. I belonged to Gran Fort again, while he teased me with fingers, making me reach climax many times. I never thought I'd break, but I was slowly breaking in his hands. The only thing I could think about was the daily dose, his secondary touches, his presence in my mouth.
— My little Nathan, I will free you. Don't forget who I am and how I can cage you again. Make you dependent only on this to live. — He waved the needle in front of me, but it seemed like a dream. His voice sounded distant. — Eric Félix, I know where he lives and how I can torture him in many ways, kill him in front of you. But I won't, because you are a good boy. Don't forget who you belong to.
You belong to me. The voice was etched in my mind. I opened my eyes, startled, jerking forward. I was blindfolded and tied up. The place was dark and damp; my legs were wet, water around me. I felt cold... Gran Fort knew my weak point and used it to keep control. I couldn't report him; even if I were imprisoned, his contacts were enough to threaten Eric's life. Eric... How could I forget his lips, his scent, his rough beard, his stern face... I trembled all over, biting my lower lip. I wanted that; my body craved the opium. I started to pant, unsure how many days I had been exposed to the doses, but it was enough to want more.
— Blauth! — I heard wood break but didn't raise my head. I was having what they call withdrawal. I felt arms wrap around me; I held onto whoever it was.
— Give me... Give me, please. — I begged, but Eric just stared, wrapping me in a coat. It was cold, so cold. I didn't know where we were going. Everything was confusing; I babbled words I couldn't understand. Strong arms held me firmly.
The soft bed wasn't enough to stop my crisis. I saw a man dressed in white apply something that eased my state, but hours later it began again. It was like that for days until I got used to nothing. They were cleansing my blood. I found out I was at Eric's house, and the man in white was his trusted doctor. The investigator never left my side except to eat or bathe. Those were hard days for both of us. I thought I wouldn't survive the addiction, it was so strong I sometimes had seizures.
— I'm sorry. — I said on a rainy morning while eating something that for the first time didn't turn my stomach. I had lost weight and still felt weak. Gran Fort had punished me to show who was in control, and I hated him for it. Because I was afraid of everything I had experienced, struggling in bed, begging for drugs, wishing I had them to ease the unbearable abyss I faced.
— What matters is that you're well now. — Eric said, sitting in the armchair, looking thoughtful. — You disappeared for a week. We found you on one of Stan's ships; there was opium in the cargo, as Crow said... What happened? — Félix's investigator instinct was intimidating. He seemed to suspect something was wrong with the whole story.
— I... — Remember what I can do. That thought stopped my voice for a few seconds. — I don't remember clearly... Everything became blurred after I followed a suspicious man. I thought he would lead me to some proof... But I fell into a trap. Most of the time I was drugged. Sorry, I can't remember.
— We searched for you in every room of that brothel. Gran Fort even said he'd help because you were like a son to him. That's when the investigation pointed to Stan as the one responsible for your kidnapping, and it seems to be true. — Even Félix struggled to believe his own words. — You don't really remember anything?
— No. — I don't want you to die, Félix. That's why it's better this way... I felt miserable hiding the truth, ashamed of what I'd done, how naive I was to let myself be led. Were we going to end the investigation? Maybe that was best.
— Stan will be arrested. — The older man stood up and walked to me, sitting beside me and stroking my hair. It was nice to see Eric gentler, but I still felt undeserving. His touch was brief; his tender gaze turned back to his usual seriousness. — Blauth, you were very naive. — There was no denying it. It was vanity that made me act alone; I should have refused or informed Félix, who was my superior on the case. That was the right thing to do.
— You're right. That will never happen again. — I said, head bowed. I realized I was wearing a pajama too big for me, probably Eric's. It comforted me.
— I don't think you were made for this job; being an investigator is complicated, and maybe it's not for you. — Eric spoke seriously and firmly. You weren't born for this, Nathan, and you'll soon find out. His words echoed again at the worst moment. My spirit was too fragile from everything that had happened. I couldn't answer right away; my throat felt dry. Something inside me broke.
— Blauth, that's Félix, Eric Félix. He found the butcher killer. Usually, the big cases are his. — My boss was commenting, excited, as I had just joined the department. — Look up to him. You have much to grow, just don't have his awful personality.
— Yes, sir. — From that day on, I observed him—his usual bad mood and how rude he was in conversations, but his seriousness was admirable, so I pushed myself to have him as a role model. I always found him handsome and incredible. When I realized, my eyes always followed him.
Now the person I admired the most was telling me I wasn't made for this. I broke. Maybe Gran Fort was right about everything he said about me. That man weakened my spirit, but not even that was enough to make me give up. Eric did this for William. I don't belong to myself. I thought. I didn't cry; there was no reason. Complaining wouldn't change things.
— You're right. — That's all I could say.