Chapter 1: Midnight's Tormented Return
Severus lay sprawled across his bed, the cool sheets clinging to his bare chest as it rose and fell with each restless breath. Two days. Two agonizing days since Minerva had vanished without a trace, her absence gnawing at his thoughts like a persistent shadow. Where could she be? His mind churned with dark possibilities, each more unsettling than the last.
A sharp knock shattered the silence of the night. Severus bolted upright, his heart thudding against his ribs. Wrapping a robe around himself, he strode to the door, his wand at the ready. When he flung it open, the sight before him froze him in place.
Minerva stood there, a vision of torment and feral beauty. Her usually stern features were marred with blood and bruises, her naked body trembling under the weight of abuse. Cat ears perched atop her head, twitching with every shudder, while a fluffy tail swayed nervously behind her. A cruel collar encircled her neck, a chain dangling from it like a leash of shame. Bites and hickeys littered her skin, burns seared into her chest, and her thighs bore the brutal imprint of hands and whips. Her emerald eyes, usually so fierce, shimmered with fear and a desperate flicker of hope.
“Minerva…” Severus breathed, his voice a mix of horror and relief. He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. As she stumbled in, he saw the full extent of her wounds—lash marks crisscrossing her back, her body smeared with someone else’s filth. His stomach churned with rage, but he kept his tone steady. “What happened to you?”
Her tail flicked erratically, ears flattening against her head as she whimpered, “Please… don’t. I can’t take it again. I’ll do anything—anything but that. A blowjob, anything, just don’t—” Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her reddened cheeks.
Severus’s brows furrowed, his dark eyes narrowing. “Do you fear me, Minerva?”
“N-no,” she stammered, but her trembling body betrayed her lie.
“Liar,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a whip. “You know I despise deceit, kitten.”
She flinched, scrambling to the corner of the room, her tail curling protectively around her legs. “No, please! I’ll do whatever you want, just not that! I’m begging you!” Her voice was raw, her claws digging into the floor as if bracing for another assault.
Her desperation struck him like a curse, and he raised his voice despite himself. “Calm yourself, woman! I’m not some beast to ravage you in this state!” But as his words echoed, a jolt of electricity surged from the cursed collar, forcing a pained yowl from her lips. Her body jerked, and before he could stop her, she was on her knees, clawing at his trousers with shaking hands.
“Minerva, stop!” Severus barked, but her lips were already brushing against him, her touch mechanical, driven by whatever dark magic or drugs coursed through her veins. He gripped her shoulders, pulling her back with a growl. “I said stop! I’m not going to hurt you!”
Her eyes, glazed with terror and compulsion, met his. Another shock from the collar made her hiss, her feline instincts kicking in as she bared her teeth. Yet, beneath the haze, he saw her—his Minerva, fierce and unbroken despite it all. He wouldn’t let her be reduced to this.
With a swift motion, he yanked her to her feet, ignoring her weak protests and the sharp scratch of her claws against his arm. “Enough of this,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. He crushed his lips against hers, not in lust, but in a fierce promise of protection. Her body tensed, then melted slightly, a soft purr escaping her throat despite herself.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bathroom, her weight light but her struggles fierce. “Let me go, Severus!” she hissed, her tail lashing against his side. “I don’t need your pity!”
“Pity?” he shot back, his tone cutting as he set her down and turned on the warm water. “This isn’t pity, you stubborn witch. This is me not letting you drown in your own blood and despair. Now hold still.”
She growled, snapping at him with feline ferocity, but he held firm, washing away the grime and evidence of her torment. Her resistance waned, replaced by quiet sobs and the occasional flick of her ears. When they emerged, he wrapped her in a soft towel, drying her with a gentleness that belied his harsh exterior. Covering her with a thick blanket, he pulled her against his chest, her back to him, his arms a fortress around her trembling form.
“You’re safe now,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “I’ve got you, Minerva. No one will touch you again.”
Her tail curled around his leg instinctively, a soft purr rumbling in her chest as exhaustion claimed her. But Severus knew this was only the beginning. Whoever had done this to her would pay—and soon, the heat of vengeance would burn hotter than any desire.
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