CHAPTER 47: I’M A MONSTER

Viviane couldn’t understand the hatred in Seamus’ eyes.

Those emeralds that once looked at her with tenderness now burned with something else—bitterness, doubt, and a hesitation that made her stomach twist.

He used to be simple, easy to read. Gentle when she needed comfort, fierce when she needed protection.

But now... now she could feel him slipping away and she was certain it was because of her.

Isolde.

Even the thought of that woman made her blood boil. That thief. That slut.

That centuries-old parasite who dared to trample on her dignity over and over again... wasn’t she her mother? How could Mother do so?

Viviane shook her head, focused more on the matter of hand than her grim past which couldn’t be changed, the last thing she could do was revenge.

Seamus had always been hers. He was supposed to walk beside her—or stay locked away if that’s what it took—as long as he loved her.

She didn’t care where his newfound strength came from. He would never use it to hurt her. Not him.

Viviane’s lips tightened as the memory of that bloody battle flashed before her eyes. ’Those bastards... I’ll kill them once this is over.’

But rejecting Seamus was agony. It burned in her chest like the hot coal her mother once forced down her throat as punishment for not being "good enough."

And now, the way he looked at her—as if she were the enemy—because of her betrayal... that hurt far worse.

Without another word, Viviane slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

The silk pooled at her waist before sliding to the ground, baring the pale curves of her body.

She saw his eyes flicker—just for a moment—but that was enough. He could deny her all he wanted, but his body never lied.

And sure enough, even with his jaw tight and his glare sharp, his cock stirred beneath his jeans, swelling as her hips ground against him.

"Seamus..." her voice was a low purr, "Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back to who you really are."

His hand shot up, gripping her waist. But the resistance in his eyes made her smirk.

"I changed because of you," he spat, his fingers trembling against her skin, trying to get his body control back.

"And you expect me just to forget all of this?"

Liar.

She said it to herself, even when her belief was shaken. Believe that Seamus still wanted her...

"Oh, I will..." she whispered, leaning close until her breath brushed his lips. "I’ll take you back in every way possible."

Her fingers trailed down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt one by one.

"You promised me forever. You swore it in blood. You can’t break it, Seamus. Not when you made it with me."

Her tongue traced the line of his chest, tasting the faint tang of blood where his wounds were still healing, fast.

’Oh he will love this move and then he will be back like usual.’

She moved closer to his face, straddling him, and spread her thighs over his face.

With a sultry hum, her fingers slid between her folds, parting them slowly as her breath hitched.

"Mmh~ Seamus," she moaned, teasing herself as her golden eyes gleamed down at him, "don’t you want to taste it?"

He refused to answer, but she caught the hunger he tried so hard to bury. His body betrayed him again.

She pushed her fingers deeper inside, her walls clenching as wetness coated her hand. Her back arched, her voice breaking into a moan.

"Ahhh~ yes... Seamus... do you see? Do you hear how much I want you?"

But Seamus didn’t react, it was just his body while his eyes kept glaring at her. It made her hands tremble slightly as she became more desperate.

Viviane’s other hand slid down, freeing his cock from the tight prison of his jeans. The sight of it—thick, heavy, already twitching—made her lick her lips.

It had been too long since she’d felt him inside her. Too long since he’d made her scream his name.

She wrapped her hand around his length, stroking it slowly, deliberately. "Even if you glare at me like that," she whispered, her tone shaking with desire, "this doesn’t lie. You don’t lie to me, Seamus. Not here."

His groan broke past his clenched teeth as her touch quickened. She felt the strain in him, the way he fought not only her but himself.

And when his hands suddenly shoved against her, pushing her down into the bed, Viviane only laughed breathlessly.

Yes.

That was the Seamus she wanted. Not the broken man doubting her, not the fool poisoned by Isolde’s lies.

She wanted the monster, the one who would hold her down, rough and desperate, and still whisper her name.

"Seamus..." she gasped as his grip tightened on her wrists, pinning her to the mattress, "that’s it... Don’t hold back. Show me you’re still mine."

"Yours? You are the one who broke my trust and this fragile relationship." Seamus paused, hesitation flickering in his voice.

"I hate you for betraying me, Viviane... and yet you punish me with your body?"

Viviane frowned. "I’m not. I apologize for betraying you, Seamus. Can you forgive me?"

Seamus shut his eyes tight, his grip on her hands unyielding.

"No, you keep begging for forgiveness, but you never change!" His voice was sharp and accusing.

"Even now, you’re trying to control me with your body. This isn’t love, Viviane..."

Her breath caught. His words pierced deeper as they reminded her of someone’s words.

’No... This can’t be.’

With a violent shove, she broke free. Scarlet threads unfurled from her skin, slithering into his body.

He jerked as the strings dug in, forcing his limbs to move against his will.

"Then I’ll punish you," Viviane whispered, her voice trembling with fury and grief.

"I’ll tear you apart piece by piece until nothing is left—until the only thing you can do is love me back."

"You can’t!" Seamus gasped. "Your love is hurting me, Viviane!"

"Am I just a trophy to you? A trophy of your victory against your mother?!"

Her breath hitched. Tears slipped down her cheeks before she even realized they’d fallen.

No matter what she did—force, gentleness, desperation—nothing could bring Seamus back.

Had she truly broken him?

All she knew of love was violence and chains. It was the only language her mother had ever taught her.

And now, staring at the ruin she had made, she realized—

’I don’t know how to love properly. I destroyed him with my own hands. The only love left to me has shattered into pieces.’

’Mother was right... I’m a monster.’