I Belong To My Three Forbidden Masters

Chapter 68: Chapter 68

Lysander’s pov

I don’t remember anything after Drake carried me to the room and cleaned me up but when I woke up, it was storming outside and he wasn’t with me so I went to look for him.

Needing to be with him.

I stood just inside the frame of the master bedroom doorway, wrapping Drake’s dark silk robe tightly around my frame.

The collar of the robe slipped slightly off my shoulder, exposing the dark, fresh violet bite marks on my neck, the permanent, unmistakable signature of Drake’s possession.

I walked slowly to the living room.

My heart instantly leaped into my throat when the doors hissed open, and a figure stumbled out into the dim foyer.

"Who let you in?" I demanded, my voice sharp and laced with reflexive panic as I stepped back into the shadows. My hands tightened around the silk at my waist.

Gideon stepped into the light, and my jaw went slack. He looked utterly destroyed. His hair was a matted, greasy mess, his eyes sunken and bloodshot, his jaw covered in uneven stubble. He wore a rumpled, rain-soaked coat over a wrinkled shirt, shivering violently as he took three unsteady, frantic steps onto the dark slate floor.

My chest rose and fell in rapid gasps, but as my eyes tracked past Gideon, I caught sight of Drake sitting casually in a high-backed leather armchair near the glass wall, a glass of dark liquid held loosely between his long fingers.

The moment I saw Drake, the knot of terror in my chest completely dissolved. A deep, heavy wave of calm washed over me. Gideon couldn’t touch me here. He couldn’t hurt me.

I was under Drake’s roof, and completely beyond Gideon’s reach. I stood my ground, my posture relaxing slightly.

Gideon didn’t even notice me standing in the shadow of the hallway. His wild, bloodshot eyes locked onto Drake.

"Drake... please," he choked out.

With a wet, heavy sob, Gideon dropped straight to his knees on the hard stone floor, his hands dragging through his face as he wept openly.

"I can’t... I can’t live like this," he sobbed, his chest heaving under his wet coat. "I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I hear your voice. I feel your hands on me. Please, Drake... I’m begging you. Just give him back to me. Give me Lysander."

I held my breath, a cold, strange shiver running down my spine as I watched my former tormentor grovel on the floorboards.

Drake simply took a slow, deliberate sip of his wine, looking down at Gideon with an icy expression.

"Give him back?" He sighed, "You speak as though he were a trinket you misplaced, Gideon. Lysander belongs to me. His body, his mind, and his loyalty are bound to my mark. Why would I ever hand my property over to a weeping, broken child?"

"Because I love him!" Gideon cried out, his hands slamming flat against the cold floor as he crawled two frantic inches forward. "I love him, Drake! I’ve always loved him! I know I messed up—I know I was cruel—but I can change! I’ll do anything! I’ll give you money, I’ll give you access to the estate, I’ll give you whatever you want! Just let me see him! Let me take him home!"

A dark laugh escaped Drake’s throat, a low, resonant sound that made the ambient temperature in the room drop several degrees.

"Love?" He echoed softly, setting his glass down on the side table with a faint, sharp click. He stood up slowly, his tall frame casting a long, suffocating shadow over the kneeling boy. "Is that what you call it, Gideon? Is that the word you use to justify what you did to him?"

Gideon’s shoulders shook violently as he buried his face in his trembling hands, weeping hysterically. "I love him... I swear to God I love him..."

"Look at me, boy," Drake commanded smoothly.

Gideon flinched, his head jerking up instantly as Drake’s supernatural authority pressed against his mind. Tears and snot ran unchecked down his pale, bruised face.

Drake took a slow, deliberate step toward him, stopping just out of reach. "If you want to speak of Lysander, if you want to claim any right to his existence then you will speak the absolute truth in this room. Tell me what you did to him at the estate."

Gideon swallowed hard, his throat working as he tried to pull back, his survival instincts screaming at him to stop. But Drake’s gaze locked onto his eyes, the crimson glow swirling just beneath the surface, crushing Gideon’s willpower into fine dust.

"I... I trapped him," he whispered, his voice trembling violently.

"Speak louder, Gideon," Drake purred,

Gideon let out a high, ragged sob, his chest heaving as the forced confession tore out of his throat against his will. "I trapped him in his room. He—he begged me to stop, he cried, he told me to leave him alone... but I didn’t care!"

I gripped the silk of my robe, my knuckles turning white as a cold, phantom ache echoed in my chest.

"And what did you do, Gideon?" Drake asked softly, taking another step closer, towering over him like an executioner. "Say the word."

Gideon sobbed, clutching his stomach as if the truth were physically tearing through his organs. "I raped him!" he shrieked, the confession echoing loudly off the high glass walls. "I raped him! I forced myself on him, and I... and I loved it! I enjoyed making him feel small! I enjoyed knowing he couldn’t fight back!"

Silence slammed back down onto the living room.

Gideon collapsed completely forward, his forehead pressed flat against the cold slate tile, weeping hysterically into his own hands.

Drake stood over him, "You are a vile, pathetic parasite," Drake said smoothly, his tone flat and devoid of all emotion. "You do not love Lysander. You loved the illusion of control. And now, you have nothing."

Drake stepped past him, walking over to the private elevator wall. He pressed the call button, the doors hissing open immediately.

Drake turned his head toward the hallway, his eyes catching mine where I stood. A faint, dark smile touched the corner of his lips.

"Lysander," Drake called softly. "Come here."

I stepped out of the shadow of the hallway. I stopped beside Drake, resting my hand lightly on his arm, standing tall and immaculate right beside my master.

Gideon’s head jerked up at the sound of my bare feet against the floor. He looked at me through a haze of tears,

"Lysander..." he whimpered, reaching out a trembling, pathetic hand toward my ankle. "Lysander... please... tell him..."

I didn’t say a word. I simply leaned my head against Drake’s shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist, holding onto the man who had given me sanctuary.

Drake grabbed Gideon by the back of his collar, hauling his wet, limp body off the floor like a sack of trash, and threw him sideways into the elevator carriage.

"For a rich boy, you sure are stupid. You know what I think? I think you want me to fuck you again."

Gideon started to shake his head but Drake hissed at him, "You liked having me in your ass so much that you had to come back, all you had to do was ask."

"No, it’s not what I want..."

"If you ever return," Drake warned as the metal doors began to slide shut, "I will not let you leave alive."

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