Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 112: killing intent

Chapter 112: Chapter 112: killing intent

The city lord sat alone in his dimly lit study. Only the sound of a heavy door closing remained after Cassian stepped out. The man lay still for some time, but then his fingers moved to the edges of his mask, resting there for a moment as if deeply invested in his thoughts.

With slow, deliberate movements, he removed the mask from his face.

The polished surface of the mask revealed a sharp jawline, elegant features carved with an air of nobility that seemed almost too refined for a mere city lord. High cheekbones, piercing eyes that held a glint, and lips that curled into something between a smirk and amusement.

There was a cold, haunting beauty to him—one that would have been unmistakable to a certain someone.

If Cassian had been here, he would have recognized the face before him.

Not entirely, but enough.

It was eerily similar to Prince Dorian’s—perhaps seventy percent the same. The structure, the shape, the regal presence that surrounded him. And yet, there were stark differences. The softness Cassian once knew was long gone.

The warmth that once flickered behind Dorian’s eyes had been swallowed whole by something else—something far more unsettling.

The look in his eyes was haunting, like his eyes had finally fallen on the prey he had been waiting for.

Gone was the gentleness Cassian once knew; now, it was replaced with longing and thirst for something he could not describe. The man radiated a more powerful aura than before.

He lifted a large hand to his face, fingers gliding over his cheek, down to his jaw, as if reacquainting himself with his own reflection.

A slow smirk curled his lips.

"Still the same... my little pet."

The words were whispered, but in the stillness of the study, they felt deafening.

He chuckled, deep and velvety, his amusement laced with something uncertain. "How dare you think you could escape me?"

His fingers pressed harder against his own skin, as if suppressing the thrill that coursed through him. "You hid well... I’ll give you that." His voice was soft, almost affectionate, but the glint in his eyes held no kindness. "But see... fate has played its hand again, hasn’t it?

You walked right back in front of me."

His laughter grew, a dark melody that filled the empty room.

Ah, the thought of it—Cassian, wandering so freely, so unaware. The very idea sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. The years had done nothing to weaken his hold, no matter how far Cassian had run. No matter how much time had passed, no matter the distance, Cassian remained his.

Only he knew how much he was controlling himself from pouncing on his little pet. He couldn’t ruin his game—where else would he find such a fascinating play? To hunt his little pet and show him who was in control here.

"Worry not, my dear! You will soon squirm beneath me, begging for forgiveness for all the sins you have committed, and believe me, I will make sure you atone for your sin." The man said as he roamed his hand through his smooth black hair. His eyes regained their original color—blood red.

"Did you really think you could live outside of my grasp?" he mused, resting his chin against his palm. His mind swirled with possibilities, each more intoxicating than the last. "Oh, my little pet, the punishment I have in store for you..."

His expression was one of satisfaction as he relished in his own thoughts.

"You haven’t changed a bit... even after all these centuries. Still trapped. Still mine."

He leaned back, his laughter dying down to a mere whisper of a chuckle. The game had begun again, and this time, there would be no escape.

The dimly lit hallway was empty except for the heavy footsteps resonating through the stone walls. Teneb walked with heavy steps, his mood souring with every footfall. The killing intent still radiated from him.

His mind kept replaying the moment he almost collided with that human. His skin crawled in disgust at the mere thought of being in the same place as him.

Cassian.

He could not understand why his Lord allowed them to stay here, and to his horror, they had to treat them with utmost respect.

"Why? Why do we have to serve these lousy humans? And treat them like some Lord? Damn! If it were in my hands, I would make them my slaves and torture them in the deepest part of hell."

Teneb wanted to claw at his hair. His mind had been racing with countless possibilities for the entire week, but still, he had not found out just—

"Why? Fucking why?"

Every time he saw their disgusting faces and smelled their rotting souls, he wanted to strangle them. It had become almost impossible for him to stay here. He didn’t know when he would lose control.

That was why he always stayed away from this place, but when he finally arrived to meet his Supreme Lord, that fucking human got in his way. And why the hell was he coming out of the Supreme Lord’s study all flustered...?

Maybe the Supreme Lord had taught him a lesson about staying in his place. It would have been good if he had seen it with his own eyes—how their Lord crushed all these puny humans under his feet and showed them who the real Lord was.

Yet, before he could dwell further on his thoughts, a firm hand caught his wrist with unyielding strength.

Teneb’s eyes snapped toward the intruder, his irritation flaring for only a second before recognition dawned.

The Grand Master stood before him, playing the character of a stupid healer. He was really overwhelmed—just what had happened to everyone? Why were they behaving in such strange ways?

In his memory, the Grand Master was a figure that everyone looked up to, but now he was reduced to a mere healer, tending to fucking humans.

The thought alone was enough to make Teneb cringe. His face twisted with shame and rage, as if he were the one forced to do these lowly duties.

Master Eamon’s sharp gaze held none of the usual patience he granted others. His grip was like iron, belying his age, and his expression was as cold as the stone floor beneath them.

"What was that just now?" The old man’s voice was low but edged with steel. "What is the meaning of that killing intent?"