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Slowly he released my left arm from under his leg, my right arm still stuck and took my wrist in a tight grip.

He took the ring from the bed, holding it up to his eyeline, a wolf-ish grin on his face as he forced all my fingers down into a fist, bar one – the ring finger.

He moved to place the ring over the finger, demanding my commitment. It was the only thing I held still.

I shocked him when I pulled my hand back as far as it would go and into his face with a grunt. Attempting to wriggle from his grasp, I reached up to the top of the mattress .

My grip landed on something plush between the pillows – Angus, my best friend. His soft fur brought a moment of solace until I heard a sinister laugh, and Angus was snatched from my grip.

“You’re pathetic. Using a childish toy to make you happy? I’ve been in a relationship with a child, and I didn’t even realise.”

He waited until my gaze was on his and then it all happened in slow motion.

He gripped Angus’ head in one hand and stomach with the other, pulling and twisting until the seams tore and his arms shot apart.

Fluff floated in the air where Angus’ head had once been joined to his body.

My soul crumbled. The only thing I had left to care about, to comfort me, and he’d ruined that too.

I stretched to reach for Angus, but he threw his remains to the floor, grasping my wrist instead.

“Little Willow Thornton scared everyone off, her own parents couldn’t even stick around and sent her grandmother into a care home.”

His words taunted me, pressing at every insecurity I’d ever had over my family, breaking the heart of my inner child. I’d confided in him about my childhood abandonment and now he was using it against me.

I swallowed blood and used my remaining energy to push him off, failing as he forced all his weight on top of me.

Our pants combined.

Our bodies tired with the fight but neither one ready to relent, efforts turned heavy and weighted. We were in a huffing, glaring stand-off.

“You done fucking around?” he croaked out.

I defiantly shook my head, tears streaming down the side of my face and into my ears.

Cain made quick work of unbuckling his belt, whipping it out of his loops, a snap as the leather cracked against itself. He took the weight off my right arm and pulled it up in-line with the other. He tugged it tightly, wrapping it round and round, tighter and tighter, binding my wrists.

With a twinkle in his eye, he reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out metal.

Playfully, he flipped his trophy between his fingers. He flicked a black lid, and a tall blue flame roared from the top. My eyes widened with confusion and panic.

The orange glow turned his bright green eyes a muddy brown, his other arm dropped my bound wrists and reached beside him, collecting the ring without looking.

He raised the ring to join the lighter and a sadistic grin formed as he moved the flame to the centre of the ring until it connected with the flame, he slowly spun the ring around, so the ring shank heated. I froze with fear.

“Look at you, fighting like a girl. Shame you’re just a weak little thing, isn’t it? The thing is, Will-ow,” he mused. “If I’m going down, you’re coming with me. You’re mine, don’t you see? ”

My eyes bounced around the room trying to figure out one final escape plan, my attention returned to him at the sound of a sharp hiss. He’d touched the burning metal but that hadn’t put him off.

“Did you know a ring is circular to symbolise eternity? Of course you do, you’re a clever girl, aren’t you?” Cain mocked. He reconfigured the ring between his fingers, so he had a firm but cautious hold.

I remained in place, confused and fearful.

I had always been told that in the face of danger I’d automatically fight back.

I’d fought, but it was futile. I was bound and exhausted, but even if I’d been able, I was frozen in fear.

My mind screamed at me to run, but all I could do was watch in horror.

“You see, you might not want to be my wife, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be rid of me. I’ll make sure you can’t ever forget me.”

Satisfied with his work, he yanked my wrists up to eye height again, raising the ring to the same level. The tip of his tongue darted out, brushing his top lip, collecting built up sweat.

Without warning, he pushed the burning metal down onto my finger. The skin burned and I screamed as I uncontrollably shook and snapped my arms away, but he continued to push.

“You’re mine,” he roared but his words jumbled with my wails.

My skin melted around the hard metal, forcing its way through layers of flesh.

He forced it over the second knuckle before it lodged itself. I sobbed, my battle over.

My vision blurred and my head lolled to one side, facing the mirror on the fitted wardrobe. I made out shapes – my body flush to the mattress, him arching over me with my arms in the air, and a small orange ball of fuzz on the floor – before darkness seeped in through the corner of my eyes.

The darkness felt safer, warmer.