Chapter 1: The Collar's Curse
Vesper Holloway stormed into the cluttered attic of their family’s ancient estate, her rusted-stop-sign hair a wild mess of tendrils escaping her ponytail. Her freckles, splattered like paint across her nose and cheeks, seemed to blaze with her fury as she whirled on her brother, Dorian. The collar she’d just snapped around her neck—thinking it some quirky heirloom—felt heavier by the second. She’d found it in a dusty trunk, its obsidian surface etched with strange runes, and now… now she couldn’t move her damn legs.
“What the hell did you do to me, Dorian?” she spat, her voice a razor’s edge. Her sharp elbows jutted out as she tried to lunge at him, but her body refused to budge. “I can’t move! Take this stupid thing off!”
Dorian, all Greek-statue perfection with his chiseled jaw and broad shoulders, leaned against a beam, a smirk curling his lips. “Oh, Vesper, you always were too curious for your own good. That collar? It’s not just a trinket. It binds you to my will. A little family secret I’ve been dying to test.”
Her knobby knees trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer outrage boiling in her veins. “Your *will*? Are you out of your goddamn mind? I’m not some puppet for you to jerk around! Undo this, now, or I swear I’ll—”
“Strip,” Dorian interrupted, his voice low, commanding, laced with a dark amusement.
Vesper’s blood froze. Her hands, against every shred of her screaming mind, moved to the hem of her worn tank top. “No! Stop! What the fuck—” Her fingers tugged the fabric up, exposing the pale skin of her stomach, and she bit down on a scream. Her spine, always too stubborn to settle, arched in protest, but the collar’s power was ironclad. She glared at him, green eyes blazing with hate. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that? I’ll rip your throat out the second I’m free!”
Dorian chuckled, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “Oh, come now, sis. Let’s see what you really think. Speak your mind.”
The collar pulsed, and to her horror, words she’d buried deep clawed their way out. “You’re so fucking hot, Dorian. That body—carved like some damn god. And your cock… holy shit, it’s huge, isn’t it? I can’t stop picturing—” She clamped her mouth shut, mortified, her face burning hotter than her hair. “No! I didn’t mean that! I mean, I did, but—fuck, I need to get out of this! Let me go!”
He tilted his head, dark eyes glinting with something dangerous, something hungry. “Oh, Vesper, you’re dripping with contradictions. Hate me all you want, but your body’s already betraying you.” He stepped closer still, his breath warm against her ear. “I can see it—your pulse racing, your skin flushing. You’re getting wet just standing there, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you!” she snarled, but her voice wavered as the collar tightened its grip, her hands now sliding to the waistband of her jeans. She fought it with every ounce of her will, but her fingers popped the button open. Her chest heaved, panting with rage and something darker, something she refused to name. “I’m not some toy for your twisted games. You’ll regret this, I swear.”
Dorian’s smirk widened as he watched her struggle, his own body reacting, growing hard under her furious gaze. “Oh, I’m counting on it. Let’s see how long you can fight before you’re begging for more.”
Her jeans slid down an inch, and Vesper’s mind screamed for escape, even as her body burned under his stare, sweating with the effort to resist. The air between them crackled, charged with a forbidden heat she hated herself for feeling. She was no one’s plaything—but as Dorian’s next command hovered on his lips, she braced herself for the inevitable explosion of desire and defiance.
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