Reylo: These Violent Delights

Chapter 44: Home

WARNINGS: Rey is not hit, but there could be domestic violence triggers for those that are survivors (during the talk near the end). Please tread lightly as it escalates. This is also a very angsty chapter, so please be kind to your emotional state and save it for later, if you're not in a good spot. 🫶 

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By the time Rey could make words come out of her mouth, her cheeks were on fire. "Oh. Hi. Um...how, how are you?"

"Well, let's see," Ushar said with a spirited huff, lifting his hand to count with his fingers, "I finally have a night off from chaperoning your crazy-ass, Ap'lek looks like a prissy little bitch with gel in his hair, and I just ate my body weight in Ewok filet...so, how do you think I'm doing?"

Rey offered an unconvincing laugh, but he continued to look at her as though he were waiting for an actual response. But she couldn't think of anything to say. Because even though she was physically here on Coruscant in this grand ballroom, fully dressed in her gown....in her mind, she was back in Canto Bight, writhing on the sofa as Kylo called out to his knights.

Vicrul, Ushar—enter.

In her silence, Ushar cocked a brow, looking like he was loving the heat on her cheeks. "You okay there, little missy?"

"Yep, yep," Rey said, knowing that she looked just as awkward as she felt. She was thankful for the lull in the conversation as he paused to take a drink, but when he lifted his glass to his lips, her eyes caught how the fabric of his suit tightened around his broad shoulders with the movement. She gulped. He was fucking huge.

"Ahhhh," he breathed after finishing his drink, his eyes wandering down her form. A grin split across his face as he gave her a flirty whistle. "Damn girl, you look fucking killer in that dress," he said, setting his wickedly amused eyes on her face. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "The impressive part is, you look even better out of it."

His words nearly killed Rey, and the wink he gave her was the final nail in her coffin. Before she could respond—or actually go fling herself off the balcony—Vicrul returned with her drink. Her goddamn savior.

"Ushar, what is that, your twelfth whiskey?" Vicrul interjected, stepping beside her. "You know we have to remain alert at all times, especially right now. Even with a night off."

"Shut up, Vicrul," Ushar said with a snort. "Just because you're Master Ren's favorite doesn't mean you get to boss us around."

"I'm not his favorite. I'm just the most competent of the bunch, and he knows it."

Ushar laughed—just a loud, empty sound, and started shit-talking back to him. While they volleyed insults back and forth, Vicrul handed Rey her drink, which she greedily snatched up. She was chugging it as the two knights bickered with one another, thankfully ignoring her. But she couldn't stop thinking about how both of them had seen her naked, and the indelible fact that she liked it.

As soon as I'm done with this, I'm sneaking away, she thought as she took another swig of her drink. Luckily for her, they were both too engaged in their little face-off to even notice her. In fact, she was just about to slip away when things got interesting.

"I will literally fight you right here, Vicrul. I don't care." He was smiling, but not in a friendly way. Something about his expression sent shivers down her spine.

"Okay, Ushar, fine. Let's take it outside." Vicrul said, even-toned as always. He gestured toward her. "There are ladies present."

Rey grinned, her mind buzzing from the booze. "Oh, no, no. Please, don't go outside. I'd love to see this."

"You heard the lady!" Ushar boomed, bending over to set his glass down. He cracked his neck and jumped up and down. "Let's settle this right here and now."

Vicrul looked at her, then frowned before setting his drink down, too. People that were in close enough proximity watched from the corner of their eyes as they whispered excitedly. She glanced at the double doors, worried that she'd see Kylo walk through to break up the fight, but he was nowhere to be found. She stepped back in anticipation as the knights readied themselves and rolled up their sleeves, but she was the one to interrupt when she saw their forearms.

"Wait, Vicrul—what?" Rey sputtered, stepping closer to him. "Your arm...you..."

Vicrul casually looked down at his arms. "Yeah."

"Wow," she murmured. Without thinking about it, she reached out, gently tracing the patterns on his skin. "You have...tattoos."

"It's okay to call them what they are." He shrugged. "These are property tattoos from when we were slaves."

Oh, yeah. She knew this already, but the alcohol was making her head spin. "I remember, I just...I guess I didn't realize that your arms were covered in them. Do all of you have them like this?"

Vicrul and Ushar answered at the same time. "Yes."

"Kriff," she breathed, dropping her hand from his arm. She had never seen property markings in person, but usually, the slaver tattooed one or two symbols on the slave, and that was it—not every inch of their arms. They were done with black ink, but something about them looked...off. Glossy, almost. "The ink...why does it look like this?"

In their silence, Rey felt the energy shift around her. She glanced up at both of them to see that they were sharing a look. This last drink might have amplified her buzz, but she wasn't that drunk to miss it. She cocked her head to the side. "What? What is it?"

"Because it's not just ink," Ushar said, looking down at his arms. "It's ink fused with the blood from our past owners."

She blinked. "Oh." Through her intoxicated haze, it took her a moment to really process what he had said. But then she visualized it: the knights draining the blood of their slavers, mixing it with ink, and covering their property markings with their own tattoos.

Vicrul lifted an amused brow. "Something wrong, Miss Ren?"

"No, no. That's just intense." She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "But that's...that's good. Fuck them. Fuck slavers. However you killed them, they deserved it."

Ushar laughed, and Vicrul flashed her a brilliant smile. "Oh, they aren't dead, Miss Ren. Death would have been too easy of a punishment."

Rey just looked at him. Then at Ushar, who was watching her with crossed arms and a devilish smile on his face. Giddy, almost. An icy chill dripped down her spine as she realized what he meant—their past owners were very much alive for the sole purpose of torturing them. She knew that they deserved every second of it, but it was moments like these that reminded her that she was keeping company with bloodthirsty savages. And their Master, her lover, was at the center of that. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed. The way Vicrul was smiling at her and the virile, intense energy emitting from them made her take a step back.

Rey desperately glanced toward the balcony. "Well, I'm going to go—"

"Hello," came a honeyed voice from behind her, accented just like Rey's and Vicrul's. "May I interrupt?"

Rey turned to see the brunette that had been sitting on Vicrul's lap earlier, her eyes widening at how beautiful she was up close. She had porcelain white skin and blood-red lips, with big, sweet brown eyes and a thick, voluptuous frame. She looked her up and down, blatantly checking her out, then dawned a warm smile meant just for her.

"Please interrupt. I was just about to step outside, so these two gentlemen are all yours."

"Lovely," she cooed, smiling at them and then at Rey. "I'm Ixxie, by the way, what's your—"

Vicrul cut her off. "Miss Ren, why don't we accompany you?"

"No, no, don't worry about it," Rey insisted, taking backward steps away from them. "I'll be just right out there on the terrace, you know, ten stories high, like you said. So I won't be going far, even if I wanted to." She winked at him.

If Ixxie was confused by the exchange, she handled it with grace. She waited for Vicrul to reluctantly nod at Rey before extending her hand out to Ushar. "So, it's nice to meet you. Where are you from?"

Ushar responded animatedly, his dispute with Vicrul long forgotten. With one last glance at them, Rey turned away and headed for the balcony. She felt warm and light as she crossed the ballroom in what felt like seconds. The high ceilings seemingly reached into the cosmos, making the room feel larger than it was, but with a few lithe strides, she arrived at the terrace in a matter of moments. Before moving toward the balcony, she swiveled and made eye contact with Vicrul to prove she was still close enough to be monitored. After giving him an annoyed wave, she turned around and stepped outside.

Rey instantly felt better as she reached the railing. She curled her hands around the edge and leaned all her weight back, pointing her face up to take in the stars and moons shining in the night sky. She felt herself relax as a cool breeze tickled her cheeks and bare back, enjoying her solitude. Air traffic was restricted in this part of the city, so it was quiet apart from the party ambiance emanating from the ballroom. And it was here, as she soaked up the twinkling constellations alone, that Rey realized she hadn't felt this peaceful in a long time.

"Cigarette?"

"Ah, fuck!" she yelled, letting go of the railing and jumping back. She whipped her head to the side to see a petite blonde watching her with an amused expression on her face.

"So sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you." She held out a carton of cigarettes. "Smoke?"

Rey pinned her arms across her chest, shaking her head no. "I don't smoke, but thank you."

"Ah," she mused, stepping beside her to lean her forearms against the railing. There was a brief pause while she lit her cigarette, sucking in a deep breath and blowing the fumes in the opposite direction of Rey's face. "Technically, I don't smoke either," she muttered, glancing at her before taking another drag. "Ixxie would kill me if she saw me, so don't worry, I'll make it quick."

"Ixxie...Ixxie...you mean the Ixxie over there, with Vicrul and Ushar?" Rey spun around, locating the knights just inside. Sure enough, the brunette was cozying up to Vicrul again, who, at that exact moment, glanced in their direction again like a devoted watchdog. Of course.

The woman lifted her perfectly groomed brow at her. "What in the seven hells is a Vicrul?"

Rey snorted. "That man, over there. That's a Vicrul." She pointed at him from across the terrace. "And next to him is Ushar. And the girl...is that your friend, Ixxie?"

"Friend, wife, soulmate..." She took another drag. "And a giant pain in my ass, but that's alright. She's my pain in the ass." Rey looked back at Ixxie, then back at the woman next to her. Then back to Ixxie. She must have appeared confused because her visitor laughed, throwing her head back. "You should see your face right now," she chuckled. "I know what it is. You think it's weird that she is over there, throwing herself at him, when she is married to me, yeah?"

"What? Oh, no," Rey insisted, shaking her head. She didn't mean to come off as rude or judgmental. "Not at all, I just—"

She raised her hand. "Don't worry about it. It's different for a lot of people. But our understanding is this: our relationship will always come first. We will always take care of each other and always love one another with our whole hearts." She took one last puff before dropping the cigarette and smashing it with her heel. "That being said...we also like to have some fun, every now and again."

"Oh," Rey breathed, looking back inside at Ixxie. She was speaking to both men as she leaned into Vicrul, tracing the tattoos on his arm. It did look like she was having fun, laughing in a way that made her look so unapologetically free. A pang of sadness splintered through Rey, realizing that Ixxie reminded her of herself back in the day. Before she was taken. "So, she can do whatever she wants?" she murmured, fixated on the trio from across the room.

Next to Rey, the woman hummed. "Yes, both of us can. As long as we are transparent and check in with each other, we are free to do as we please. I don't own her, and she doesn't own me."

"Oh. Nice," Rey said lamely. She turned away and focused on the sprawling city view from the balcony. Her heart felt heavy, and her palms felt sweaty. She'd been trying so hard to just have a good night, to just ignore the topic of her freedom until after the party. But she knew how naive that was, how impossible.

Her visitor was silent, but she was sneaking glances at her. Rey knew she was being standoffish—a little rude, even, but she couldn't help it. The dazzle of the ball began to wear off, and all she was left with was the realization that Kylo still hadn't made it clear that she was no longer under prisoner restrictions.

The woman's soft voice broke Rey's trance. "I'm so sorry, I don't mean to pry...but, are you okay?" She gently touched her arm. "I'm a bit of an empath, love, and I can feel your sadness like it's my own."

Rey took a deep breath and met her concerned gaze. "I'm okay," she lied. She tried to smile. "Just had too much to drink, is all."

Her visitor eyed her. Rey knew that she knew she was lying.

"Okay, but..." the blonde trailed off, her eyes flitting inside, then back to Rey. Even though they were the only two people on the balcony, she lowered her voice and stepped closer to her. "That man, Vicrul. He keeps looking out here. Are you in any type of danger?"

Rey blinked. "Danger? No. No, not at all," she said, perhaps too quickly. She spun around to look back inside again. Sure enough, Vicrul was keeping an eye on her. But so was someone else. Kylo.

Fuck. "Ah, hey, I gotta go," Rey said abruptly, stepping away from her. She attempted her best smile, which didn't quite reach her eyes. "But it's been so nice speaking to you...ah, I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"Myla," she said, extending her hand for her to take. "And you are?"

Rey hesitated. She hadn't been asked that in so long. But she grabbed Myla's hand to shake it and let her name slip through her lips. "I'm Rey."

She got chills, just hearing it aloud sending a jolt of electricity through her body as Zeven's words from yesterday rang through her mind. Don't forget who you are.

Rey held onto her hand for a bit longer than was appropriate, and it wasn't until Myla cleared her throat that she let go. "Uhm, sorry. I gotta go, but it was nice meeting you, Myla."

Myla glanced behind her to look at Kylo, who was teetering closer to them. Emotion threatened to consume Rey. Everything about him was regal. From the way his black hair framed his sharp, prominent jawline to the perfect way his form filled out that black suit, there was no denying the fact that his presence was irresistibly alluring. She knew that from the moment he took his helmet off all those months ago.

My lover. My monster. Something in the back of Rey's mind was trying to get her attention. Screaming at her, actually. Something Zeven said. But she couldn't focus on it. All she saw was Kylo. Her feet carried her toward him.

"Wait, wait!" Myla called out, grabbing her arm.

Rey spun around, eyes dropping to Myla's purse as she frantically dug through it. Within seconds she pulled out a pen. "I doubt you have a datapad on you with a dress like that," she said, gesturing to her gown, "but I want to give you my number. We are having an anniversary party next week, and I would love it if you could come."

"Oh, okay," Rey heard herself say. "That sounds great."

She grabbed her arm and scribbled down some numbers. "So please call me for more details, or simply if you need anything at all, okay?"

After Myla dropped her arm and glanced around her to peek inside, a concerned expression on her face, it dawned on Rey that the number on her arm had nothing to do with the anniversary party. She gave her a slow, understanding nod. "Thank you, Myla."

"You're welcome, Rey." She gave her a lingering, solemn look. "You have a nice night, now."

Rey turned away from her and made her way to Kylo, her mind threatening to go into overdrive. She tried her best to push her emotions aside, to mute herself so he wouldn't pick up on them.

"Kitten," he said, opening his arms, and inviting her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him and breathed him in. "What's going on?" she muttered against his chest, looking up at him. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded, pulling away from her to slump against the wall. He looked exhausted. "There was a security breach, but it has been handled."

Rey joined him on the wall. "Oh? Who?"

"A Resistance fighter found a way onto the Finalizer."

Her lips parted in surprise. "A Resistance fighter willingly approached a dreadnought? What, who? And why on Naboo would they want to do that?"

"They won't say." Kylo pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will have to make them talk when we return."

A chill reached her back, and she crossed her arms across her chest. "Do you, uh, know who it is?"

"No." He looked down at her. "I—" Kylo stopped, tilting his head to the side. "What's on your arm?"

"Oh, it's Myla's number. It's a friend I made on the balcony," she said, pointing behind her. "She seems really nice, and she, uh, invited me to her anniversary party."

"Ah." Kylo looked back up, his face unreadable. She anxiously waited for him to say something, anything to ease her worries. She just needed to hear him say that she was free, that he didn't own her. But the silence that followed was fucking loud.

Rey bit her lip. "Yeah...so...I want to go to that."

"When is it?" he asked, distracted as he kept his eyes on the crowd, his hand finding her lower back.

She raised her voice over the crowd cheering on the band. "Next week."

He shook his head. "No. Too soon."

Her heart sank. Her body involuntarily started to shake. Everything she'd been ignoring was coming to a head. She felt it. In her bones, in her soul. Her voice was just a broken whisper. "But I thought...I thought things were different now."

Kylo still wouldn't look at her. "They are."

"Then let me go," Rey pleaded, trying to regain composure. "Please, Kylo."

"No," he said, matter-of-factly. "And we aren't discussing this now." He grabbed her arm. "Come on, let's get you another drink."

"No," she flared, ripping away from him. "If things are different, why does it seem like I'm still your prisoner? Like you own me?"

"I don't own you," he stated, tone indifferent. "Let's—"

"Look at me!" Rey demanded, raising her voice just as the applause died down inside. But she didn't care.

Kylo made eye contact with her, still speaking in an infuriatingly calm manner. "People are watching, Rey. Let's go somewhere more private."

She glared at him. "Since when do you care about making a scene?"

He took a deep breath and held out his hand. "Please."

"Fine," she snapped. She turned back toward the balcony and veered to the right, leading the way to a small, secluded alcove in the corner of the terrace. Within moments, he joined her. She didn't waste any time. "I have been very patient, Kylo. It's time we have this conversation. I can't continue to ignore it and just assume things will be okay," she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and placed her hands on her hips. "It's time that you let me come and go as I please."

Kylo spoke slowly as if Rey were a child. "I understand where you are coming from. I do. But—"

"There should be no but," she hissed, her hands clenching into fists. "You do not own me."

"I don't, but all of this is very complicated. I need more time to trust you."

"Trust me?" she repeated, her eyes wide with stupefaction. "Kylo, what about me trusting you? You are the one that did unspeakable things to me, and yet, here I am, extending you my trust. What else could you possibly need from me?"

"Time, I need more time," he said, speaking with his hands to try and calm her down. "You are being unrealistic. There's a certain protocol—"

"Wait—protocol? Did I hear that correctly?" Rey incessantly shook her head, mouth open in an offended gawk. "Tell me, Kylo, what is the protocol for fucking your prisoner, hmmm? Please, enlighten me on what you did to the last girl you captured because—"

"Enough," Kylo spat, his facade of control shattering. His hands shot to her waist as he pulled her in, smashing her torso against his before slithering up her back to grip the base of her neck. He tilted her back to force her to look at him. "I told you, there is only you. There has never been anyone like you, and there never will be anyone like you. Why won't you believe me?"

"I—"

"No," he snapped, gently shaking her, "listen to me, Kitten. There is only you. Do you understand?"

Rey froze in his arms, unable to digest this feeling. He was looking at her like she was the center of the galaxy, of his galaxy. It filled her up and overwhelmed all her senses, drowning out the alarms blaring in the back of her mind. As the resulting silence echoed in her mind, she felt her anger slip away in his embrace. All she could manage was a nod.

"You are all I ever need," Kylo rasped, holding her tighter. "And one day, I hope you see that I'm all you will ever need. I will give you everything. I will give you what you give me. A home."

Home? Rey's body vibrated at the sound of the word, from that fucking feeling. It kept rearing its ugly head. Home. But this couldn't be home, just like Zeven said. Not if he didn't trust her. She was still a prisoner to the First Order. New quarters and a fluffy kitten and this beautiful dress with a neck dripping in diamonds wouldn't fix that. Home. His eyes darted across her face as though he was reading her like a book. But her feelings, her thoughts...they were not ink on a page. No. Rey wasn't blessed with something so concrete. How could she be? She didn't know what she felt. She only had fragments of feelings and thoughts that existed inside of her, ever-changing and flowing through her like a riptide—destructive, powerful, and unpredictable.

Rey closed her eyes and clutched back at him. She was a mess. She wanted love so badly. She wanted him, and he wanted her—so what if it wasn't perfect? Her breaths were shallow as they poured out of her. Those alarms pierced through the buzz in her head, unwilling to be silenced, shouting conflicting messages. Home. An abandoned pet, just like he called her since day one. A little fool. You're a lonely, desperate, broken girl...this, you know. She hated this man once upon a time. Does she still? I need to escape. He felt like home. Don't forget who you are.

Kylo kissed Rey. You little fool. Warm, soft, desperate, he wrapped his arms around her, their bodies colliding as his heady sounds of pleasure vibrated between their locked lips. Breathing each other in as she hummed soft sighs against him, such sweet release, as he eagerly sucked them down and consumed them, consumed her. Conflict, passion. Home. Maybe it's not so bad if I stay with him...

He pushed her against the wall, holding her hands beside her head as he leaned down to kiss her neck. "You're submitting to me," Kylo breathed, lips devouring her.

Rey arched her back at the touch. Her skin was on fire. The warmth felt so good, yet she knew too much of it would leave her burned. "No, ahhh—" she tried to stay firm, but Kylo's teeth sunk into her collarbone, and an electric current shot down and traveled between her legs.

"Yes, you are," he gasped. "I feel it."

She shut her eyes. He didn't sound arrogant, or possessive or crazy. He sounded thrilled. Relieved.

"I, I, I—"

He pulled away from her, towering over her, and cut her off with something that made her stomach drop to the floor. "Join me, Rey. I want you to join me. Rule with me. Be my Empress." He swallowed thickly. "And I will be yours, until the end of time."

Her head spun. Her heart stuttered in her chest. She could barely form her words. "What? I...I can't be an Empress. Your Empress, Kylo."

"Why not? You're everything to me. Don't you see that?"

Tears started to stream down her face. "Kylo, I can't."

"Yes, yes, you can," he insisted, blinking rapidly. "I will be better. I will give you anything. I will give you everything." He grabbed her shoulders. "You want to. I feel it. It's time to stop running, to stop fighting. You love me, and I love you. I didn't know what that was until I met you, but now I do. This is what love is."

Rey gripped the top of his hands, tears flowing freely now. Her voice broke as she spoke to him. "But you still won't let me leave, will you? Even if I did choose this, to submit entirely, you would never fully trust me, would you?"

"One day. Just not now."

"Kylo! Keeping me locked up...that's not love. To own someone—that isn't love," she blubbered as she sobbed. "This whole thing between us...its lust and infatuation, and possession."

"No, it's not," he growled, anger flashing in his eyes. His hands left her shoulders to grasp her face. "You are not listening to me."

"You're not listening to me! I—"

"I said stop fighting it," Kylo snarled, and she tried to flinch back from his hold. She hadn't seen this side of him in months. He looked rabid, unstable. And for the first time in a long time, fear settled in her lower belly.

"Please let go of me," Rey whispered. "You're scaring me."

He didn't. Eyes wild, chest heaving, he only gripped her face harder. "Tell me I'm yours, Kitten. Just like you ask me to do. Tell me I'm yours."

Tears rushed down her face. "Kylo, I...I want to, but I can't. Not like this."

"Yes, you can, YES, YOU CAN!" he exploded, slamming his fist into the wall behind her. He yelled as she stumbled away from him. "SAY IT!"

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out, horror twisting in her lower belly at just how enraged he looked. This went far beyond how he used to be. This was worse. She nervously looked around at the worried faces stealing glances at them from the balcony. Kylo still had his sights locked on her, waiting for her to give him what he wanted, but her throat felt tight and her chest heavy with despair. It was so debilitating, she could have cried from relief when he tore his intense gaze from her and moved to address the approaching officer.

"This better be important," Kylo seethed, pacing in front of her.

"Ye-yes, sir. The security breach has escalated to a stage 5 incident, s-sir," he said in a hushed voice, nervously glancing at her. "We need a course of action immediately."

Kylo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "The report. Give it to me."

The officer threw Rey another shifty glance before leaning in toward Kylo, lowering his voice even more. At the same moment, the party inside erupted in applause at the finish of the band's set, disrupting her plans to eavesdrop. But judging by Kylo's stiff body language and the way the officer immediately scurried off, she assumed it was bad news. And to confirm her suspicions, Kylo's knights suddenly appeared around the small alcove, arriving from all different directions. Kylo and Vicrul shared a swift nod, and without a word, all six of them followed after the receding officer, weaving through the crowd.

Rey wiped the tears off her face. "Kylo, what—"

He grabbed her hand and, without looking at her, he snatched her off the wall back toward the ballroom. "We are leaving."

"Leaving?" she cried, struggling to keep up with his pace. Bystanders rushed to get out of his way. "But what's going on?"

"Not. Now." He tugged at her even harder, nearly forcing her to collide with a servant holding a tray of some type of snack that most definitely still looked alive.

"Let go!" she yelled, trying to twist her hand out of his grasp. "Please! You need to let me—"

Kylo whipped around and pointed a finger in her face. "I don't need to let you do anything, pet," he snapped, feral rage flashing in his eyes. She struggled to step back, but he yanked her closer to him, the grip on her wrist becoming painful. "Right now, I am your Supreme Leader, and you are my prisoner. That means you will follow my orders without hesitation. Am. I. Understood?"

Rey's lips parted in disgust as she stared at him in disbelief, trying to find a sliver of the man that had told her he loved her just minutes ago. But as she searched his eyes, she couldn't unearth him. Raising her hand, she moved to slap him across the face, but before she could make contact, a blinding flash and a thundering bang forced them apart. She gasped as the blast sent her sliding against the floor, propelling her away from him as a rush of air and heat enveloped her. At first, all she could hear was the sound of flames crackling.

Then the screams began.

Ears ringing and head spinning, Rey sat up and looked around, trying to orientate herself. She hurt everywhere, and the smell of smoke began to penetrate her senses. When it dawned on her there had just been an attack on the celebration, she immediately fell into flight-or-fight mode. She was in danger, and she had to focus. She had to survive. But then came another explosion. She instantly thought of Hux—did he escape? Is he here to kill Kylo and take his place? Panic and chaos erupted all around her. Smoke, so much smoke. Rubble on the bright, shiny floors. Guests bleeding and running and yelling. And above it all: the whine of X-wings.

And then it hit her. This wasn't Hux. This was the Resistance.

Fuck. Rey shot up, ignoring the piercing pain consuming her side. She spun around, desperately searching the wreckage to find Kylo. She couldn't see him, though. A hole had been blown into the wall where the alcove had been only moments ago, sending black fumes billowing from the flames that started to lick up the walls. She began to cough, her lungs forcefully trying to expel the vapors that took shelter in her chest. She had to get out of there, and she had to get out now. But she couldn't remember which way led to an exit. She had relied on Kylo for that, but now she was all alone.

"Fucking hells," Rey cursed, angry with herself for failing to observe the perimeter of the ballroom. Before she was taken, she would have never entered a new place without locating the fastest way out. She had grown too comfortable with someone else taking care of her. You little fool. Without visibility, she pushed forward, limping as she kept a hand pressed to her side. She vaguely realized that it was warm and sticky. She was bleeding. But she had to keep walking.

But to where? Everything was a mess, smoke was everywhere, and guests were sprawled across the floor. Some groaning, some lifeless. And there was absolutely no sign of Kylo or his knights.

"Kylo?" Rey tried to call out for him, but smoke invaded her airways and caused her to choke on his name.

Air, I need fresh air. She placed one foot in front of the other, a moment of clarity telling her to head back toward the terrace. The balcony she was just standing on with Myla, not too long ago. The one with the stars and the breeze and the fresh air. Miraculously, she orientated herself in the right direction, despite the black smoke that impeded most of her vision. She had never felt something sweeter than the cool breeze hitting her face as she stepped outside. She made it. Now she just had to—

Bang.

Another blinding flash, another explosion. Rey screamed as she ducked, covering her head with her hands as she waited for impact. It never came. All she could hear was the whine of an engine. Loud, so fucking loud. It sounded like it was right on top of her. And when she lifted her hands off her head to look up, she saw that a shuttle was right on top of her.

Her mouth gaped open. She knew that shuttle. She knew every single square inch of it. She knew the way it smelled, the way it felt, the way it hummed and groaned and creaked. It was her home, once upon a time. And when the ramp opened in mid-air, peering down at her was the face of her best friend. Zeven.

Head spinning, Rey slammed her eyes shut and reasoned with herself. This isn't real. This isn't real. Surely she was dead. The blast had killed her, and this was some fucked up afterlife she had to endure for all the lives she had claimed. Her personal hell, forever taunting her with a false opportunity of safety, quite literally hovering right out of her grasp while being stuck in a burning building with her captor. That's what this was. It isn't real.

"Rey!"

Rey froze. Something about this felt familiar. She snapped her head up to look into the shuttle hovering above her. It really was Zeven on that ramp, shouting her name like that night in Mos Eisley. Except this time, they weren't abandoning her. They came for her. Her heart pounded. This is real.

"Hurry!" Zeven yelled, tossing down a vibrocord that uncoiled in front of her. Rey didn't hesitate to grab it, her feet immediately leaving the ground as her best friend struggled to pull her up. "You have to climb!"

Biting back the pain in her ribs, Rey started to haul herself up. But within seconds, a gust of wind violently blew her sideways, so strong she thought she was going to lose her hold and fall to her death. Then came a growl, slicing through her mind like a knife cutting through flesh.

"Don't you dare."

Her mouth popped open in an agonizing scream, chills tormenting her flesh as a wave of nausea hit her in the face. She knew this feeling; her body knew this feeling. It was Kylo, ruthlessly invading her mind. And as the rope propelled her from side to side, she realized it wasn't the wind that was moving her. It was him. The Supreme Leader, Rey's captor, her monster. Trying to pull her back to him as he spoke to her as though he were sentencing her to death.

"Rey. Don't. You. Dare."

Chaos engulfed her. The mechanical whirring of the ship vibrated in her bones, drowning out the screams of party-goers as they tried to flee the burning ballroom. Smoke surrounded her, stinging her eyes and burning her throat. She could still hear Zeven scream above her, calling out to her comrades to help bring Rey up. She silently prayed in her mind. To whom, she didn't even know. Please make it stop.

The blinding pain ceased for a brief, sweet moment, and Rey was able to focus enough to see that she was dangling right above the balcony. She heard her name again, and upon shooting her frantic gaze down, she saw Kylo glaring at her amidst a backdrop of fire and smoke. He looked angry, yes, but he looked hurt, too. Not just physically—he looked heartbroken. A crazy part of her considered letting go of the rope, letting herself drop down into his arms, letting Zeven fly away without her. As his words from earlier echoed in her mind, Rey loosened her grip.

You're everything to me. Don't you know that?

Sobs swelled in her throat as she slid down the rope, looking down to gauge how far she had to jump. The fall to the balcony wouldn't hurt. She wasn't too far from the ground. She had endured worse. Much, much worse. She slid down a little bit farther.

"No, Rey! You have to climb!" There was a pause, then Zeven yelled at the top of her lungs when Rey didn't respond. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? CLIMB UP!"

Rey threw a stressed glance up at her best friend. Then back at Kylo. He looked badly hurt as he hobbled over to the balcony, blood dripping from his side. Her fingers twitched around the vibrocord as she stared at him, replaying everything that had happened since she was taken. Everything. The good and the bad. Her brain throbbed, memories and feelings clashing through her mind until it felt like she was being torn apart. But above it all, she heard Kylo's last words to her before the attack. They filled her, claiming her consciousness and shattering her heart.

You are still my prisoner.

Rey moved quickly, putting all her strength into dragging herself up the cord. Kylo's retaliative Force attack immediately returned as he drew the rope toward the balcony, toward him. The pain in her mind unfolded once again as he forced his way inside.

"You will stay with me."

Strangled, desperate noises ripped from her throat. Hell. He was putting her through hell. It was worse, so much worse than what she remembered during his interrogations and from what she could recall from Sector 45B. It ate away at her, nipping and clawing, threatening to weaken her hold on the rope and bring her crashing down to the balcony. But despite the pull from the Force trying to rip her away from the vibrocord, Rey was able to heave herself up, panting and full of adrenaline as her mind regurgitated one word over and over again.

Home, home, home.

The moment she tumbled onto the ramp, the construct of time deteriorated in her mind. Hands were on her. Somebody pulled her to her feet. Familiar faces. The sound of the ramp closing behind her. The humming of the ship, ready to take off. But then, it jolted forward, sending everyone crashing to the ground. Then came the pressure. Insurmountable pressure. Beginning inside of her head and overflowing, blanketing her entire body.

"Please don't do this to me, Rey."

This time, no pain. Just a crushing force. She could hear him like he was next to her. No, inside of her, inside her mind. And somehow, Rey knew where to go next. Like he was in control of her body, her feet moved toward the cockpit. She hovered above the panicking pilots as they tried to understand why the ship was stalling in mid-air.

"What the fuck!" the pilot screamed.

"I don't know, I don't know!" the co-pilot yelled back.

"The Force," Rey said flatly, in shock as she lifted a finger to point at Kylo, who was still standing in the empty, inflamed ballroom. Destruction and death were all around him, and yet, his face was alive with fury, his hair and tie blowing back from the wind force of the ship. With his palm facing her, he splayed his fingers out, twisting his wrist and using the Force to keep her there. To keep her home. Behind him, the knights emerged from a thick wall of smoke. One by one, they skulked forward, mimicking their Master's stance as they joined him in his efforts. With a violent heave, the ship jolted toward them.

The pilot panicked. "HOW THE FUCK IS THAT POSSIBLE?"

"I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW! WE NEED LIGHTSPEED, NOW!"

Another twitch of Kylo's hand and Rey stumbled forward. The ship was teetering closer and closer to the palace, about to make impact with the balcony. He was going to crash the shuttle just to keep her here with him. Make her pummel into the terrace where she had stood with Myla. Where she looked at Rey like a human being. Where she asked for her name. Where she had gotten chills for saying, I'm Rey.

Remember who you are.

Grating metal ripped through Rey's eardrums, snapping her to attention. Kylo had both hands up now, dragging the ship closer. Her face almost smashed into the glass from the sharp movement, but she caught herself as she peered directly into the eyes of the Supreme Leader. Her captor. Her monster. Love, love, love. He looked as desperate as he sounded.

"Stay with me, Rey."

"FUCK!" More panicked screams from inside the cockpit. "LIGHTSPEED, NOW!"

"WE CAN'T, NOT UNTIL—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO IT!"

With a burst of stuttering power, the ship took off. Rey clutched onto the back of the pilot's seat, trying not to tumble over. Screams filled the entire shuttle. Dizzy, she was so dizzy as they jumped into hyperspace. But that was it. She was gone. She was free. The mere thought brought her crumpling to the floor, gasping for air as though she hadn't taken a full breath in years. The oxygen in here tasted as it always did—smoke, rust, and earth. It made her gag.

Bringing her head between her knees, she shut her eyes, hoping for relief, but it only worsened. Behind her eyelids was Kylo in that ballroom, body rigid with effort as he used every ounce of his power to keep her with him. Bleeding and injured as he watched her with a face full of anger and grief and betrayal. Rey started to cry.

Home.