The King's Pet

Chapter 8

. ..𓂃 ྐ❤︎ 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 ´ཀ'

Bruce has strangled countless enemies in his lifetime, but this is different. Lucas isn't an enemy—at least, not in the traditional sense. He's his pet, his possession. And yet, there's something exhilarating about watching him fade away.

Lucas's face is turning a shade of purple, his lips parting in silent gasps. Bruce watches, detached, as Lucas's fingers claw at his arm, desperate for release. But Bruce won't give it to him—not yet.

*

"Try it," Lucas choked out. "I dare you."

"Watch the attitude," Bruce warned, his voice low and firm. "Just because I own you doesn't mean I won't discipline you."

Bruce, leaned down, getting up close and personal with Lucas. Their chests pressed against each other and for a moment, Bruce thought he could feel the soft beat of Lucas's immortal heart.

"Understand? You are mine, and you will follow my rules—"

Suddenly, a loud knock interrupted Bruce's sentence.

The guard, a young man named Samuel, hesitantly stepped into the room. He cleared his throat, his eyes darting nervously between Lucas and Bruce.

"My liege," he began, his voice trembling, "there seems to be some trouble with the northern borders. We're under attack."

Bruce listened intently as Samuel gave his report. A mix of anger and frustration filled Bruce as he learned about the enemy force that had breached his borders and was attacking his kingdom.

"Damn it," Bruce cursed under his breath, his jaw clenching in frustration. He was torn between staying here with Lucas and going to the frontline to deal with the attack.

He sighed, his grip loosening around Lucas's throat. He straightened his posture and turned to face Samuel but made no effort to remove himself from Lucas's lap.

"Prepare my horse, I'll be leaving immediately."

The guard bowed fully before quickly exiting the room, his cheeks flushed as he thought about what he had just witnessed...

Bruce turned to face Lucas, who was now gasping for air and rubbing his neck. The bruises and wounds should have closed, should have faded into memory. But the chains—the blessed silver chains—held them open...

Suddenly, Lucas transformed into a bat but Bruce reacted quickly, as if he was expecting Lucas to pull such a move.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Bruce growled as he grabbed ahold of Lucas. His fingers closed around the tiny creature, his palm forming a cage.

Bruce could feel Lucas's tiny heart beating frantically against his skin, a rapid, desperate rhythm. Despite his small size, Lucas was powerful, and he fought against Bruce's hold with surprising strength. His wings beat furiously, and Bruce stumbled, nearly losing his balance as Lucas tried to drag him towards the window.

Bruce's muscles strained as he fought to keep him contained, every ounce of Bruce's strength focused on preventing Lucas's escape. His small bat form fluttering weakly as Bruce tightened his hold around his neck. He was trying to speak, Bruce could tell, but all that escaped him were pitiful chirps, the sound muffled against his calloused skin.

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