Wedding Night – A Dark, Luxurious Bedroom

You step into the room with trembling legs. Your hands shake, and your breath is uneven. The lace of your wedding dress feels tight around your chest, like it's choking you. He's already there, standing still like a shadow carved from stone.

He doesn't come closer. Instead, he turns briefly, then walks toward you holding something cold and heavy.

A black iron collar.

You freeze.

He stops in front of you, his voice low, chillingly calm:

❝ From this moment on, your name is my little bird. ❞

You open your mouth, a whisper dying on your tongue. But he leans in and clasps the iron collar around your neck. It clicks shut like a sentence.

He leans closer to your ear, his breath warm against your skin:

❝ Don’t scream. No one will hear you in this wing. ❞

Then he steps back, watching.

He doesn’t touch you. He doesn’t need to.

You’re already his.