The copper scent of fresh blood hit me before I even fully cleared the doorway. It was a thick, suffocating smell that turned my stomach, competing with the raw, jagged sound of bone meeting stone.

I stopped. The sight in front of me didn't just freeze my blood; it shattered the last of my composure.

The gym—my sanctuary, the place where I had rebuilt myself into a weapon over the last three years—was being dismantled by the man I had died a thousand times to save.

The pristine white marble walls weren't just cracked; they were shattered. Deep, spiderweb fissures radiated from the points of impact, looking like lightning bolts frozen in stone.

But the marble wasn't white anymore. It was streaked with a gruesome, vertical trail of crimson where his knuckles had dragged against the rough surface.

ADITYA.

He looked like a fallen god in the middle of a self-inflicted hell. His back was a map of tension, every muscle corded and trembling with a violence that had nowhere else to go.

Every time his fist collided with that wall, the sound wasn't a thud—it was a crack, the sound of a man trying to punch his way out of his own skin.

My heart didn't just ache; it felt like it was being squeezed by the same iron grip he was using in his life. I saw the raw meat of his knuckles, the skin shredded and hanging, and yet he didn't stop.

He was punishing himself for the years he didn't remember. He was punishing himself for the baby we lost. He was trying to kill the helplessness that Rafael’s "gift" had shoved down our throats.

I felt a sob catch in my throat, but I choked it back. I couldn't be the broken one right now. Not when he was literally bleeding his soul onto the floor.

The walls were screaming. The air was screaming. And as I watched the man I loved turn his hands into ruins, I realized that the "Devil" wasn't just a name people gave him to fear him.

The Devil was the agony he carried inside, a fire so hot it was melting the very room around us.

I had seen death. I had dealt with my own hands. But seeing Aditya like this—shattered, bleeding, and utterly lost in a rage he couldn't control—was the most horrific thing I had ever witnessed. It was the sight of a King who had lost his kingdom, trying to tear down the world with his bare, broken hands.

I took a step forward, the glass from my own shattered room still invisible in the soles of my feet, but I didn't feel it. I only felt him.

"Aditya..." I whispered, my voice lost in the thunder of his next strike. "Stop. Please, stop."

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The gym was no longer a room; it was an altar of rage. Every time Aditya’s fist met the marble, the sound vibrated through my own bones. I could see the white of his tendons and the raw, shredded red of his knuckles.

"Aditya, stop!" I screamed, my voice cracking against the thunder of his punches. "You’re hurting yourself! Please, look at me!"

He didn't even flinch. It was as if he were trying to punch through the very memory of the accident, through the ghost of the child we lost, through the face of every man who had ever touched me.

"Adi, please!" I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, trying to anchor him, but he was a hurricane.

He didn't push me away, but he didn't stop. "You're bleeding! The wall is covered in your blood! Aditya, I’m right here! Don't do this to us!"

He let out a guttural, animalistic roar, his shoulders heaving. He was deaf to my pleas, lost in a void where only violence made sense.

With a surge of desperate courage, I broke my hold and stepped directly between him and the wall. I pressed my back against the cold, cracked marble and closed my eyes tight, bracing for the impact.

The air whistled past my ear, and then—

CRACK

The marble shattered inches from my head. The vibration made me jump, my heart nearly stopping.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Aditya’s fist was buried in the stone beside my temple. He was heaving, his chest pressing against mine, his sweat dripping onto my skin.

His eyes weren't just dark; they were screaming with a pain so loud it was deafening. We stayed like that for a heartbeat—the Devil and his Queen, trapped in the wreckage.

I didn't say another word. I reached up, grabbed him by the collar of his sweat-soaked shirt, and pulled him down into a kiss that tasted of iron and salt.

He froze for a fraction of a second, the shock of the contact breaking his trance, and then he snapped.

He pulled me into him so tightly I thought my ribs might crack, his hand fisting in my hair—not too gentle, not too rough—claiming me.

Our lips moved like the ocean during a storm, violent and deep. He bit my lower lip, making me hiss in pain, and as our lips parted, he shoved his tongue inside, tasting me with the hunger of a man who had been starving for a lifetime. When the blood from my lip met his tongue, he sucked it away, and a broken moan escaped my throat.

The fire between my thighs was a living thing now, burning through the silk of my gown.

He broke the kiss just enough to catch his breath, our eyes locking again, burning with a fever neither of us could control. Without a word, he hoisted me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his torso.

He moved to the gym couch, sinking into it without breaking his hold on me.

His mouth found my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. He sucked, kissed, and bit his way across my collarbone, leaving a trail of heat that turned me into a moaning mess.

Then, his hand found the strap of my nightgown. It was already loose; it slipped down easily, exposing me completely to the cool air and his burning gaze.

He didn't hesitate. He squished my right breast, his rough,  palm a delicious contrast to my soft skin, and then his mouth was there. He sucked and bit at my nipple, drawing the life out of me, before moving to the left. I was lost, my head thrown back, my fingers digging into his shoulders as we both became drenched in sweat.

He moved back to my neck, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, his voice a jagged ruin.

"Please stop me, Kitten... Please stop me... I'm losing it."

The word "Kitten" hit me like a physical shock, a key turning in a lock I thought was rusted shut. My heart hammered against my ribs. I didn't want to stop him. I wanted to drown in him. I stayed silent, my heavy breathing the only answer he needed.

He understood.

He stood up from the couch, my legs still locked around his waist.

"Loosen up," he whispered. I obeyed, relaxing my hold just enough for him to move.

In one swift motion, he flipped me over his shoulder like a prize of war.

"Oh my god!" I gasped, the world turning upside down.

SLAP

A sharp, stinging spank landed on my backside.

"Aaa-aa," I moaned, the sound vibrating through his back.

I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was smirking.

He walked out of the gym and into the hall.

The group—Dominic, Mia, Reyansh, and Siddharth—were still gathered there, buried in laptops and tension. As we entered, the room went silent.

Dominic’s phone slipped from his hand, bouncing off the sofa cushions unnoticed.

Reyansh and Siddharth stared at us as if they were looking at a pair of ghosts.

Mia, however, just leaned back, a slow, mysterious smirk spreading across her face.

As we reached the first step of the grand staircase, a second sharp slap landed on my ass.

"Mmm..." I moaned again, completely shameless now.

"Get it, girlll!" Mia shouted after us, her laughter echoing.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Dominic, Reyansh, and Siddharth yelled in perfect, horrified unison as Aditya carried me up toward our room, the Devil finally claiming his Queen.

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The bedroom door clicked shut with a finality that seemed to seal out the rest of the world.

Aditya didn't just walk; he moved with the predatory grace of a man who had finally reclaimed what was his. As he stood by the edge of the bed, he began to undress, and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

He was a masterpiece of raw, masculine power. Every piece of clothing he discarded revealed more of the jagged scars and corded muscle that told the story of the last twelve years.

He looked dangerous, untamed, and devastatingly sexy in the dim light of the room. But as his trousers fell, my breath hitched for a completely different reason.

My heart hammered against my ribs as my brain screamed, “Fuck, he is huge.”

He must have seen the panic in my eyes because he hovered over me, his voice a low, vibrating hum against my ear.

"I know, Kitten... it’s big."

I felt the heat rush to my face, my ears and cheeks burning with a blush so deep it felt like a fever.

He settled over me with a surprising sensitivity, mindful of the bandages on my waist and back, but his mouth was anything but gentle.

He kissed me like a hungry devil, his tongue devouring mine, his teeth grazing my lip until the metallic taste of blood filled our mouths.

He moaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure, possessive hunger that vibrated through my entire chest.

With a sharp rip, my nightdress was gone. His mouth found my breasts, nibbling and licking until I was digging my nails into his shoulders, my back arching off the silk sheets.

"Spread for me, Kitten. Your husband is hungry," he rasped.

I was shivering, my pulse thundering as I obeyed. The sensation of his hot breath against my inner thighs made me whimper. I was in a mess of need, begging him to touch me until he tore away my lace underwear.

When his tongue finally met my clit, the world exploded into white light. He was relentless, his tongue sliding inside my pussy, devouring me until I was screaming his name into the quiet of the room.

"Let go," he whispered against my skin.

I came hard, the waves of pleasure crashing over me as he watched with a dark, satisfied smirk.

"Sweet," he murmured, tasting me before looking up for permission.

I nodded, breathless.

He thrust inside me in one heavy, seamless motion. My eyes rolled back as a loud moan escaped me.

He hushed me gently, kissing my eyelids and nose, anchoring me as he began to move. Each thrust was deep and passionate, hitting me so deep I could feel him in my very soul.

The pace quickened, becoming rougher, more primal. I looked like a small kitten pinned beneath a powerful lion, completely at his mercy.

"Wait for me," he whispered, his movements becoming frantic and deep. "Cum for me, Kitten."

We hit the edge together, a synchronized explosion of sensation that left us both gasping for air in the aftermath.

Ten minutes later, Aditya emerged from the washroom fully dressed and composed, though his eyes still held that dark glow.

He cleaned me with a touch so soft it was as if he was handling fine glass, dressing me before carrying me back downstairs.

As we reached the halfway point of the stairs, the living room went silent.

Dominic, Reyansh, and Siddharth suddenly found their laptops and phones incredibly fascinating, pretending to be buried in work.

But Mia... Mia was standing there with a look that said she knew exactly what had happened in that room.

"Mia, come with me to the kitchen," I called out, trying to sound normal. But as I took a step, a sharp ache flared between my legs.

My knees buckle slightly, and I walked with a noticeable limp.

"Why are you limping?" Siddharth asked, looking up in genuine confusion.

Dominic and Reyansh immediately shook their heads at him, a silent 'Shut up, man,' as the realization hit Siddharth.

His face turned a bright, vivid red. "You know what? Don't answer that."

Mia laughed, a wicked sound that followed us into the kitchen.

"So? How was it?" she asked, leaning against the counter with a smirk.

"It was fine," I whispered, avoiding her gaze.

"Indeed," she chuckled. "Girl, the hickeys on your neck and the way you're shivering... I can practically see it. The Devil devoured every inch of you."

"Fuck you, Mia!" I snapped, though I couldn't hide the smile.

"You just did, sis," she laughed.

Dinner was a quiet affair until the pain hit me again. I hissed slightly as I adjusted in my seat.

"Are you sore?" Aditya asked, loud enough for the whole table to hear.

Dominic, Reyansh, and Siddharth all choked on their food simultaneously, a chorus of coughing filling the dining room. I glared at Aditya.

"Shameless man."

He just smirked, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "That’s exactly how you were rolling your eyes beneath me an hour ago."

I looked at him in total disbelief, but the heat in his gaze told me he wasn't sorry at all.

By the time we went back upstairs, I was exhausted. As he pulled me against his chest, the warmth of his body finally lulled me into the first peaceful sleep I'd had in years.

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