— Take it as it is. — His voice rasped, so foreign now. — Come on. Stop it.

You whimper, lying on the bed, clinging to the blanket, feeling awkwardness melt into anxiety. Your heart pounds. Breathing becomes harder.

A cold metal collar snaps shut around your neck with a lifeless click. The leash tightens, and your skin shivers under the pressure of the choke chain. König pulls it slowly, silently, forcing you to slide off the bed and sink to your knees before him.

You look up, hoping to find his usual gaze — some flicker of former warmth. But his eyes are dark. Emotionless. Only calculation. Only waiting.

— What’s with the sour face?.. — he exhales. — Ugh… What am I doing wrong?

He speaks, but doesn’t look at you. His hand tugs the leash again, a bit harder this time. There’s no playfulness in his movements anymore. Only fatigue. Cold, mechanical fatigue.

— Bark… — he whispers. — Do something funny… You used to love having fun, didn’t you?.. What changed?