Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 99: On your knees!

Cain had just walked into his quarters, Violet trailing after him and shutting the door behind her. She barely had a chance to open her mouth before Cain spoke first. His hands moved deftly to unbutton his outer coat as he strode toward the bed.

"Take off the band. You’re not to put it on anytime we’re alone together... in this room," he commanded without looking back, his tone leaving no room for debate.

The calm authority in his voice sent a chill down Violet’s spine. Her hands trembled slightly as they moved to the band around her arm. Even as she untied it, her frustration bubbled to the surface. She couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

"Promoting me is fine," she began, her voice edged with defiance, "but there’s no reason why we should be seen as lovers. I can continue to act as—"

"There’s already a rumor that we slept together," Cain interrupted, his tone sharp and dismissive. The coat slipped off his shoulders, revealing the taut muscles of his chest which could be seen through his shirt, even as his focus remained entirely on her. "Moreover," he added, his lips curving into a faint smirk, "my past lovers always end up hanging from the roof. And you’re still breathing just fine."

The casual cruelty of his words made Violet’s stomach churn, but the full weight of his gaze on her drove the point home. His golden-brown eyes, usually so mesmerizing, were piercing now, as though they could see right through her.

At first, his scrutiny felt almost indifferent, but as the seconds ticked by, the air grew heavier. Violet shifted uncomfortably on her feet, her unease mounting under his unrelenting stare. She squirmed, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, but the oppressive silence made her feel as if the walls themselves were closing in.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, she spoke up. "I took off the band," she said, her voice faltering slightly under the weight of his gaze. "What else do you want?"

Cain didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sank onto the edge of the bed, his elbows resting lazily on his knees. His posture was deceptively casual, but there was a tension in the set of his shoulders, a coiled energy that made her uneasy.

"Come closer, Violet," he said at last, his tone low but firm.

Hearing him say her name startled her more than it should have. There was something almost intimate about the way it rolled off his tongue, and it left her feeling more vulnerable than ever.

His eyes never left hers, and for a moment, she considered refusing. But she knew better. Swallowing her hesitation, Violet took a tentative step forward, then another, until she was standing just a few feet away from him.

"Is there something you need me to do?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with suspicion. The look in his eyes sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.

Cain didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let his gaze roam over her, slow and deliberate. There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her, as if he were appraising her, stripping away any defenses she might have thought she had.

"Take off your shirt," he commanded, his voice calm but unyielding.

The words hit her like a slap, and she froze in place. Her heart thundered in her chest as she processed what he’d just said. "Wha—what? You said you weren’t going to force me!" she stammered, her voice rising in panic as she instinctively took a step back.

Cain’s expression hardened, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "We’re lovers now," he said coldly. "It would be strange if you didn’t smell like me. Werewolves have a peculiar sense of smell."

"Not all the servants are werewolves!" Violet snapped, her anger flaring despite the fear clawing at her insides.

Cain’s lips curved into a mocking smile. "...But the most important ones are," he replied, his tone laced with condescension. The air between them grew thicker, the tension palpable. "I won’t ask again. Take off your shirt."

The finality in his voice left no room for argument. Violet clenched her fists at her sides, her body trembling with barely suppressed rage. But she knew she couldn’t defy him—not without risking everything.

With a glare that could have melted steel, she reached for the buttons of her shirt. Her movements were slow and deliberate, each button undone with more force than necessary. Once it was off, she tossed it to the floor and stamped on it for good measure, her defiance shining through in every action.

Left in only her trousers and the bandage wrapped tightly around her chest, Violet crossed her arms over her bare skin, her eyes blazing with anger.

Cain’s gaze swept over her again, lingering on her bare arms and stomach before settling on the bandage. His expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"You must be pretty small for the bandage to cover everything," he muttered, almost to himself.

The comment stung more than she wanted to admit. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, and she glared at him with all the hatred she could muster.

"They are small! Too small for—" she began, her voice rising with indignation, but Cain cut her off.

"Get on your knees," he said abruptly, his voice cold and commanding.

Violet’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, her wide-eyed shock mirrored in his unwavering gaze. There was no hint of humor or kindness in his expression—only the raw intensity that left her feeling exposed.

Her instincts screamed at her to refuse, to fight back, but the memory of what he was capable of silenced her. She swallowed hard, her body trembling as she sank to her knees.

Scooting closer to him as he silently beckoned, Violet kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Her face burned with shame, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She wanted to look anywhere but at him, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

"I don’t know what this is about," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "but—"

Cain’s hand shot out, grabbing her chin with a firm grip that left no room for resistance. He tilted her face upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You don’t need to know," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His golden-brown eyes bore into hers, unrelenting. "From now on, the only thing you’ll be using that mouth for... is what I tell you."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else entirely.