Page 59 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

Sinking into himself , Kuon watched the water lap at the blood oozing from his abrasions. His body burned not only from the rough treatment but also from embarrassment and rejection. He wished he had never forced Yugo to answer that question.

He felt stupid, his earlobes burning with shame. He couldn’t tell if Yugo meant what he said, but his words made Kuon feel empty and powerless, like a gutted fish flapping on the shore, struggling to get back into the water, unaware of the futility.

He replayed the conversation in his head, looking for clues but finding none. Instead, he couldn’t help but notice Yugo’s avoidance of calling his name. Normally, Yugo would repeat it over and over again, rolling it around on his tongue like candy, savoring the taste and sound. Not anymore.

Well, things turned out the way I wanted them to. Why the hell am I not happy?

Kuon bit his lower lip, remembering how content he’d been in Yugo’s company just a week ago, and felt even more stupid.

He couldn’t get aroused under Rick’s gentle attention, but a single look from those stormy eyes, burning with angry lust, tightened his stomach in anticipation.

Why is everything so… complicated? If you hate me, why do you look at me like I killed your puppy? If you like me, don’t fucking kiss Mio.

Yugo’s desperate actions disturbed and confused him.

Could it be I’ve made a mistake? Could it be Yugo really likes me?

Even if he tried, he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to support this theory. Unless Yugo had deliberately brought Mio home to hurt him, but that was hardly any better than cheating.

His tired eyes shifted to his arm, where a Band-Aid covered the inside of his elbow. He peeled it off. A fresh bruise surrounded a crimson puncture mark; a few drops of old blood stained the white padding.

Why can’t I remember all this?

The recent memory loss was disturbing. He doubted that Yugo had treated him himself. More likely, they had visited a clinic or a doctor, but he had no memory of that.

His fingers found the stitches by his temple. The touch hurt, and the shhhh of the shower aggravated the pressure in his head. He wanted to curl up on the floor and sleep, or at least turn off the water, but he feared that the sudden silence would summon Yugo, ending his solitude.

The sound of shattering glass made Kuon flinch.

Screeching and clattering drifted from the bedroom, followed by heavy thumps and metal clanging, painting a picture of Yugo’s angry outburst. He didn’t want to get out.

Too drained to endure more insults, he crouched down and hid his light-sensitive eyes in his forearms folded on his knees.

Water poured down on his shoulders. The warmth soothed and lulled him into a semi-hypnotic state, where the sounds of Yugo destroying the bedroom reached him dulled and harmless, as if from another dimension.

Kuon didn’t know how long he stayed that way, but his heart slowed, and his skin nearly stopped throbbing. Though his chest still burned, the pain hardly distracted him from the alertness the sudden silence instilled.

He unglued his eyelids and strained his ears, but heard nothing behind the hissing shower. Kuon sighed, then turned off the water and left the bathroom before Yugo came to collect him.

Wet spots and sharp shards of broken glass on the floor gleamed in the brilliant daylight.

The harsh smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air.

Ice cubes scattered on the floor and dark streaks on the stone surrounding the fireplace suggested that Yugo had thrown a glass of whiskey against it.

The half-empty square bottle in the man’s hand confirmed it.

The curtains were drawn back; the relentless sun flooded the room, saturating the dark wood with a warm, cozy glow.

The silk wallpaper shimmered, and the shafts of light from the mirrors pierced the room, making the dust glitter in the breeze.

Even the wolf pelt looked different, almost alive, as if a sleeping beast might stir at any moment to stretch its numb limbs.

This magical serenity stung his eyes and triggered another cognitive dissonance.

He wished the curtains had stayed closed.

Yugo stood by the window, bathed in a warm radiance.

Sunlight tangled in his tousled raven hair, shot through with icy blue.

Kuon knew he’d heard him come in, as Yugo’s naked back tensed, powerful muscles rolling under his perfectly smooth skin.

Yugo had already changed into white linen pants with a drawstring waistband.

Where the fabric clung to his tight buttocks, his skin showed through, ruling out underwear.

At another time, Kuon would have found the sight erotic.

Now, it alarmed him, reminding him of their first sexual encounter.

Yugo didn’t turn to face him. With his gaze on the sun-drenched landscape beyond the window, he took a few greedy swigs, draining a fifth of the content.

Unsure what to expect anymore, Kuon dragged his gaze around. The tall canopy bed once again bore BDSM fittings and chains. Linens that had been perfectly straightened when he’d entered the bathroom lay crumpled; a duvet and pillow were piled on the floor at the foot of the bed.

Gusts of wind breaking into the room chilled the trickles of water on his skin.

Goosebumps erupted. He glanced down at the red and purple hickeys and the bloody streaks on his chest. Covering up the source of irritation would be the first stone in building a bridge of negotiation, so he turned to the wardrobe and froze.

It yawned at him, a black void. Some shelves were broken, and all of them—empty. Even Yugo’s formal clothes were gone.

“Seriously? Are my clothing privileges now revoked? Funny. How does that square with your demand that I not broadcast my disgrace to the whole world?”

“Disgrace?” Yugo echoed in a muffled voice, then turned to face him. He no longer looked devastated, but precise and composed as he slowly approached. Kuon swallowed, his throat desert-dry, when Yugo stopped next to him.

Though only an inch taller, the man still took up all the space. His mere presence seemed to burn the air out of the room, replacing it with the heavy smell of alcohol and cigarettes. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kuon felt trapped and suffocated. The itch to move away warred with the fear that Yugo would misinterpret his actions as weakness, leaving Kuon paralyzed.

With a free hand, Yugo opened a smaller cabinet and fumbled inside.

When he turned around, a subtle smile played on his lips.

Every nerve in Kuon’s body tensed at the rare, almost tender expression.

Yugo looked content, as if he’d finally made peace with his demons, and Kuon wondered if that meant hell for him.

His instincts screamed at him to flee, but his feet were rooted to the ground, following the voice of reason. There was no point in running. Yugo wouldn’t let him go; the lack of clothes told him that much. The chains were back for the same reason.

The wet bottleneck in Yugo’s hand brushed against Kuon’s jaw, leaving a chilling smudge. Icy fingers pinched Kuon’s chin and tilted his face up to force eye contact. The harsh smell of alcohol wafted in, cutting off Kuon’s breath.

In the golden light, Yugo’s irises lost their cool hue to warm sepia, but the illusion could not hide the boundless void sprawling behind his dilated pupils.

Succumbing to a momentary weakness, Kuon pulled away, but the fingers on his chin tightened their grip.

“Be still.” The subtle change in Yugo’s voice modulation brought Kuon’s heart to a standstill as his mind feverishly dissected the falling half-tones and soft, honeyed vowels, searching for deeper meaning, hidden hints, or threats.

His body froze as well, transfixed by the snakish, cannibalistic gaze.

The place Yugo touched burned hot and cold.

Long lashes cast crisp shadows on Yugo’s lower eyelids. They captured Kuon’s attention for a long second before his focus dropped to the thin, cruel lips that had once given him so much pleasure.

The Black Duke swallowed hard. Compelled by an invisible force, he leaned into Kuon. A little more and their lips would touch, driven by the irrational, wrong attraction that had no place in such a situation. Kuon’s throat constricted with an anxious spasm, mirroring Yugo’s reaction.

Electricity coursed down his spine as Yugo’s other hand curled around his nape. Something cold grazed Kuon’s exposed shoulder and neck, causing a shiver.

A metallic CLICK next to his ear brought him out of his dazed state.

The tension snapped. Yugo smirked and stepped away to look down at his accomplishment. Kuon blinked.

“Just as I thought, it suits you perfectly.” The Black Duke nodded his approval, but a wicked glint in his eyes contradicted the tender touch of his icy fingers.

Kuon reached up to touch a leather collar wrapped around his neck, found a chain connected to it with a small padlock. A grunt of disbelief caught in his throat. “Yugo, the joke has gone too far. Take this off and give me back my clothes. I’m freezing, and we need to talk.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. It’s warm enough in here; you won’t freeze,” Yugo spoke deliberately, as if explaining something obvious to a toddler.

Kuon scowled. “That’s not funny.”

“Who said I was joking?” Yugo kept smiling, fingers slowly wrapping the chain around his fist, loop after loop, and then he yanked it down. Leather sank into Kuon’s neck; the vertebrae in his neck popped. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor on his hands and knees.

Blood drained from Kuon’s face, and he looked up, outraged.

“If you fuck with a dog, you become its bitch. Bitches don’t wear clothes or talk. They sit quietly, chained to a kennel, licking their Master’s boots, and letting him decide what to eat and who to breed. But don’t worry, I take good care of my dogs.”

Without waiting for Kuon to process his words, Yugo strode over to the bed, dragging his prisoner behind him.

The chain jerked. The collar sank into his throat.

Kuon slumped to the side, forced to crawl after Yugo, leaving wet smudges on the polished floor.

The air scratched his throat, harsh and hostile.

Black specks clouded his vision, triggering a severe headache.

A violent cough shook his chest. His fingers curled around the collar, struggling to relieve the pressure on his windpipe and throbbing veins.

Unnervingly calm, Yugo looped the chain around the pillar and secured it with a snap hook. Whiskey splashed out of the bottle, but he didn’t notice it.

“From now on, this is your place.” With a flourish, Yugo pointed to the duvet on the floor, spilling even more amber liquid on the gray silk sheets. “But if you’re a good dog, I might let you sleep at the foot of the bed.”

“Yugo, stop, this is not a solution. I’m sorry if my actions hurt you, but I really thought you didn’t care,” Kuon croaked, sitting on his ass on the floor and rubbing his neck.

He felt no fear, only utter exhaustion. The pressure in his head crushed his brain, and the harsh, blinding light made his eyes burn and water. “Let’s talk, okay?”

“Hurt me? You can’t hurt me.” Yugo crouched in front of him, elbows resting on his spread knees. Amber liquid lapped inside the bottle, rattled by the movement. “But you can disappoint.”

“This is stupid. You have no right to be angry.” Kuon gritted his teeth, fuming with adrenaline and rage.

“I have every right to be angry!” Thick, blue veins in Yugo’s corded neck engorged, crawling up to his temples.

Just like that, the calm mask slipped from Yugo’s face, revealing the hell sizzling beneath.

“Did you forget who I am? Did you think you could walk away from me and sleep with someone else? Make a fool out of me? I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I’ll make it very clear.

You’re mine. If you’re being fucked, I’m being fucked. And nobody fucks me.”

Kuon knew he shouldn’t give in to the provocation.

Yugo didn’t look drunk yet, but considering how much alcohol he had consumed, there was no way it didn’t affect his judgment.

Keeping quiet and waiting for the shitstorm to pass would be the smartest thing to do, but the hurt and indignation made Kuon shoot words back before he could stop them, “So you can fuck whoever you want, but I can’t? How is that fair?”

“I’m my own man, but you are…” The low baritone trailed off.

In disbelief, Kuon watched as Yugo’s taut muscles rolled under his skin in a vain attempt to suppress the unsustainable madness bubbling beneath, tearing at the thin layer of his humanity.

The sight should have alarmed Kuon, but all he felt was mortal fatigue.

“Who, Yugo?” Kuon jeered, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

In retrospect, the time he’d spent questioning his feelings and trying to find himself in Yugo’s world seemed na?ve and futile.

He had never intended to let me out of his grasp.

I never had a choice, only the illusion of one.

Despite Yugo’s harsh words, Kuon had no doubt that the man cared for him in some twisted way.

It wasn’t love, but he had taken the trouble to put on this show for him only, where he had almost succeeded in convincing Kuon that his opinions and wishes mattered.

Where he could make decisions for himself.

For whatever reason, Yugo would rather see him living a happy life with the illusion of free will than rotting in a cage.

But even a sweet lie was still a lie, so Kuon asked, “Your fuck hole?”

“You didn’t want to be anything else, so this is all you get.

As your master, I have the right to check what has been done to my property.

” Yugo raised his hand, pressed his thumb against Kuon’s lower lip, and pulled it down.

He pressed so hard against his chin that Kuon was sure he’d leave a bruise. “Open your mouth.”