Chapter 16

AMARA

The next morning bled into the one after it… and the one after that. Each day felt like a slow, burning trap I couldn’t escape.

It always started the same.

I’d step out for practice, and before I could even breathe, Ragnar would be there. Always close to me watching and waiting for me to crack.

That day, I was stretching my arms when I felt his shadow fall over me.

“Good morning, Amara, or should I call you princess?” he said, voice low, smooth, too calm.

Without glancing at him, I asked. “What do you want now?”

He moved closer, just enough to invade my space. “The same thing I’ve wanted since you got here. My proposal still stands. Think about it… I’m giving you time which I really don't appreciate.”

I turned my head slowly. “I already told you I’m not interested in being your personal stripper.”

“You’ll change your mind,” he replied, almost like it was a fact.

I clenched my fists. “And I told you, if my answer doesn’t sit well with you, then let me go. I have a mission to complete. I didn’t come here to dance for you or your little boys.” I spread my arms vaguely, hissing out.

His lips curved into a slow, amused smile. “You’re not going anywhere, Amara. You belong to me now. I’ll decide when you leave… and when you stay.”

Something in me snapped. I stepped forward, glaring up at him. “Take whatever it is you want, then. Because I don’t fancy being caged in some deranged man’s little park.”

He laughed. A deep, dark laugh that sent heat crawling up my neck. “You think I want you now?” His gaze ran over me like a slow burn. “No… you’re not ready yet. When I use you, you’ll know.”

The words made my stomach twist, but I didn’t show him.

I walked away before I did something reckless, like slap him in front of everyone.

But you know what the days didn’t get better.

Practice was the only time I was allowed out. After that, it was straight back to my room, the door locked from the outside or maybe I just imagined it being locked by Ryder after he accompanied me to my room.

I couldn't go out to be with Clara and the other girls. The loneliness was heavy, but the anger kept me awake.

On the third day, I stepped out after practice, still boiling from another silent stare-down with Ragnar. I was walking down the hallway when someone bumped into me so hard my shoulder burned.

I turned sharply. The girl staggered back, almost falling, but caught herself.

“Hey,” I started, reaching out.

But her hand came fast at me and a slap cracked against my cheek.

I froze, palm pressed to my face.

She shoved me once, hard enough to make me stumble, then walked away without a word.

“What the hell...” I called after her, my voice echoing.

No answer.

I stood there, breath short, wondering what that was about. My mind spun. Had Ragnar told her something? Was she another one of his little puppets?

"Fuck you, asshole." I called after her but I knew it was too late for a back bite.

Shaking my head, I walked back to my room. I opened the door and stopped at the sight in front of me.

Ragnar was there on my bed.

His legs were crossed at the ankle. His hands were behind his head, propping it up like he owned the place, like he was in his own private kingdom. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a tanned, hard chest dark skin that looked warm, tempting, dangerous. The lines of muscle moved when he breathed.

For a split second, my eyes betrayed me. He looked… edible. Like sin carved into flesh.

I tore my gaze away, forcing the thought away.

“What are you doing here?” My voice was sharp.

He just smiled at me like my anger was some kind of entertainment. “This is my place, Amara. I go where I please.”

“This is my room,” I snapped. “Get out.”

He smiled slowly, like my anger entertained him. “Well, you have a comfortable bed. I thought I’d test it.”

Even though the man was handsome as hell, even though every muscle in his body screamed temptation, even though his chest called to me to crawl over the bed and lay my head on it, even though his lips were invitingly tempting,.I didn’t let it stop me.

“Get out of my room, Ragnar,” I said, my glare steady.

He didn’t move.

“Do you really not know what privacy is?” I asked, my voice sharp.

His smirk deepened. “Oh, I know.”

His eyes didn’t move from mine. He didn’t even blink as he continued. “Do you think privacy exists here?”

“Yes,” I said, stepping closer. “And I want it now. So get the hell out of my room.”

That slow smirk spread across his lips. “You want many things you’re not going to get.”

I glared at him, refusing to show the heat crawling under my skin. “Stop coming into my room.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” he said, voice deep and calm, like a warning I wasn’t supposed to ignore.

I didn’t look away. “You’re crossing a line.”

He leaned forward. “Sweetheart, there are no lines here.”

Silence sat between us. My pulse was loud in my ears.

Then he chuckled.

The sound rolled through the room, low and dark. It shouldn’t have done anything to me, but it slid down into my stomach, leaving a strange, dangerous warmth behind. A very delicious sensation build around my middle and I cursed out loud

I shifted my weight. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he said simply. “Always so stubborn. Always so sure you can keep me at a distance.”

“Watch me,” I said.

His smirk deepened, and then he lifted one hand and curled his fingers toward me. “Come here.”

“No.”

His voice hardened. “Princess, Come here.”

“I said no.”

Something changed in his gaze. His shoulders straightened slightly. The air around us shifted. It became thicker, heavier like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

When he spoke again, his voice carried something else. Not just sound. Power. “Come to me.”

It rolled over me like a command my body was supposed to obey. Alpha tone. He was using his Alpha tone on me.

I clenched my jaw. My knees felt weak for a second as it wanted me to obey, but I fought it. “That doesn’t work on me.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment before the amusement returned. “Interesting.”

“Try someone else,” I smiled.

He sat up fully, elbows resting on his knees. “Do you know what happens when you keep refusing me, princess?”

“I stop you from thinking you can control me?”

He tilted his head, watching me. “No. I will punish you.”

I didn’t move. “You can try.”

He leaned back again, casual, like the conversation was light. But his next words hit like a blade. “If you don’t join me on this bed right now, I’ll make sure your little friend Clara regrets ever meeting you.”

My blood turned cold. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” His tone didn’t change. “Clara is one of my girls now, you know. She’s been behaving. I’d hate to have to… adjust that.”

My hands curled into fists. “Don’t touch her.”

“Then come here.”

I hated him at that moment. Hated the way he used people as leverage. Hated that he knew it worked.

My eyes burned, but I forced my face to stay calm. Slowly, I walked to the bed, my legs stiff with every step.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

“Don’t call me that.”

I sat at the farthest edge of the bed, my body turned away from him. My eyes met his, and I let him see the hatred in them.

He only smiled. “That’s better.”

Then his arm came around me, pulling me closer until my side pressed against his chest.

I pushed at his arm, but he didn’t move.

He leaned in, close enough for his breath to warm my cheek. “Relax.”

“Don’t kiss me,” I warned. “If you do, I’ll bite you.”

He studied my face for a long second, eyes locked on mine. I could see the battle in his eyes as he forced me in my place but then he nodded slowly. “I won’t kiss you.”

Instead, his hand moved, resting flat against my chest, right over my heartbeat.

I stiffened instantly.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice tight.

“Feeling you,” he said simply.

“Why?”

A small shrug. “Because I want to. Because I can.”

I tried to move back, but his arm tightened. The heat from his palm seeped through the thin fabric between us, making my skin burn in ways I didn’t want to admit.

It felt wrong. Unwanted. But part of me noticed how steady his touch was. How sure. How dangerous and unholy. I shouldn't want this. I shouldn't feel it at all.

I hated that it didn’t just make me uncomfortable.... It made me feel something else too. Something I didn’t want to name.

I looked away. “You get close to people just to own them?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “And you’re next.”

My breath caught for a second. “I’m not yours.”

“Not yet,” he murmured.

I pushed his hand away, but he only let it go when he wanted to.

“Leave my room,” I said.

“No.”

I turned my head to face him. “Leave me alone.”

He tilted his head like I’d just told him a joke. “Where’s the fun in that?”

My chest rose and fell faster. His gaze dropped to my mouth.

I could feel the shift, the way the air seemed to lean toward him. The way my own body betrayed me by not stepping away.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?” His voice was softer now, but no less dangerous.

“Like you’re waiting for me to...” I stopped.

“To what?” he pressed, eyes still fucking my lips.

My breath quickened. I didn’t know how it happened. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, maybe it was the heat in his voice, maybe it was just the mess of anger and confusion boiling inside me.

But my body moved before my mind did.

I leaned in, closed the small gap and kissed him like my life depended on it.