Silken Chains

chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen: Twisted Boundaries

A soft knock echoed through the room, snapping Alex out of his panicked thoughts. His head jerked toward the door as it creaked open, revealing Viktor. He was holding a tray with a bowl of steaming soup, his expression calm, almost tender. Alex’s pulse quickened, and an uncomfortable tension filled his chest.

"Good, you’re awake," Viktor said smoothly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He walked over with slow, deliberate steps, the same measured pace that haunted Alex’s dreams.

Alex shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his eyes darting from the IV in his arm to the chains on his ankles. The sight of Viktor, with his calm demeanor, made the situation feel even more surreal. "Why did you chain me up?" Alex’s voice trembled as he tried to sit up, wincing from the weight of the chains on his legs.

Viktor set the tray down on the small table beside the bed and looked at Alex with a raised eyebrow, as if the question didn’t make sense to him. "For your own safety," he said with that same unsettling calmness. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. "I can’t have you running off again."

Alex’s heart raced. "Release me," he demanded, his voice barely holding on to a shred of strength.

Viktor chuckled softly, his lips curling into a slight smile. "No." The word was final, chilling in its simplicity.

Anger and frustration bubbled up inside Alex, mixing with the helplessness that threatened to drown him. He looked down at his body, the loose shirt barely covering him. The question tumbled out before he could stop himself. "Did... did you change my clothes?"

Viktor’s smile widened, the kind that never reached his eyes. "What do you think?"

A deep blush crept up Alex’s neck and across his cheeks, burning with embarrassment. The thought made him feel vulnerable, exposed in a way he couldn’t bear. But what disturbed him more was the faint flicker of something else—something he didn’t want to admit to himself.

He looked away, ashamed of the heat in his face, disgusted by the way his body reacted to Viktor’s words, even in a situation like this. The blush only deepened, and Alex felt a sharp pang of guilt twist in his chest.

Pathetic. He felt pathetic to blush like this—at Viktor’s twisted, manipulative games. What’s happening to me? He thought bitterly. He could feel it—the way Viktor was changing him, warping him. Slowly, subtly, making him question everything, even his own reactions. Was Viktor winning? Was Alex becoming twisted, too?

Trying to ground himself, Alex’s thoughts shifted suddenly, a flicker of hope sparking in his mind. "Where’s Grey?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room. His cat—his sweet, innocent cat—was nowhere to be seen. The last thing he remembered was leaving Grey in the bedroom before everything fell apart.

"Where’s my cat?" He looked back at Viktor, panic creeping into his voice.

Viktor’s expression softened slightly, but there was still that same calculated coldness in his eyes. "Don’t worry," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Grey’s safe. For now."

Alex's heart sank at the unspoken threat hanging in Viktor’s words. The pit in his stomach deepened.

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I'll give a  warning ⚠️ if there is anything bad from now on.