My Wife, My Rules – 33. chapter

Aiden locked his chamber from the inside and slipped down to the stables through the hidden passage. He wanted Viktoria to believe he was still in the house. He had no idea what the search would bring, so he took not only a horse but also a carriage and coachman. The same one who had helped him carry Tess away from the wedding.

He left the carriage on the last stretch of road it could reach and continued alone. The horse responded well and did not hurry. Aiden led it along narrow forest paths, around fallen branches. In time the paths disappeared altogether and mud and grass alternated beneath the hooves.

He searched for a long while and didn’t care how long it took. Somewhere deep inside him burned a small, stubborn spark. Was it fear that he’d never see her again? Or the raw, possessive certainty that today she wouldn’t escape him?

He stopped on a gentle rise. Below him lay a meadow, wide and low, untouched by tracks. He swept it with his gaze and was about to move on when he saw her.

She was sitting. With her back to him. Her hair was pinned up, her cloak pulled tight around her shoulders. Small. Still. Her knees were drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them. And she was looking toward their lands. Exactly there. Not at the ground. Not at the sky. Home.

The heaviness fell away from Aiden as if brushed off, and a quiet, certain thrill took hold of him. For a moment, he only watched her.

Hello, my beautiful kitty. I’ll take you home.

He moved the horse closer, but not too close. At a place where he was still certain she could not hear the hooves, he dismounted silently and tied the reins to a bush.

He approached her from behind. Slowly. Confidently. Like a shadow without sound. He studied the space around her. She sat in the open meadow. No ruins where her agility could help her. But could she outrun him on open ground? Was she faster than he was? He wanted to believe she wasn’t, but he wasn’t certain. Not enough to give her the chance.

The closer he got, the quieter his steps became. She must’ve been deep in thought, because he was standing only a few paces behind her and she still hadn’t noticed.

“Did you truly believe I’d allow you this?”

She sprang to her feet and spun around. Pale. Eyes red and swollen from crying. Shock crossed her face first, then she exhaled as if to say, what else did I expect?

“It’s the only possible solution,” she declared, lifting her chin slightly.

The gesture made him laugh inside. A small defiant cat, scratching even when already caught. He almost smiled. Not because he enjoyed it. But because she was exactly as he’d expected. Unyielding. Predictable.

“You’ve no right to decide this for us both, little cat.”

“You decide for me all the time!”

“I protect you.”

“I’m protecting you too!”

“You can’t protect when you’re ruled by fear. I’m the one for dangerous situations.”

The tone. Calm. Solid. Unmovable. Like stone the wind broke against in vain.

“Aiden, you don’t understand. She’ll hurt you if I stay. She has the means, the resources, and unfortunately, the temperament for it.”

“Yes. I realized that’s how she drove you away. But neither you nor she gets to decide this.”

“I can’t yield to you. We’d live in fear our whole lives. Until… she succeeded. I won’t allow that.”

She shocked him. She’d never opposed him like this. Never resisted him. She’d always been the frightened little cat who obeyed. And now she was truly standing against him. She must have been terribly afraid if she could stand up to him like this. He watched her step back without realizing it. For now, he let it pass in silence.

“Mm. So, by your logic, I should return to her? Ideally to her bed? She wants to replace you in every way. She even tries to touch me as you do.”

Tess’s heart stopped. Everything inside her locked. Blood in her veins. Thought. Courage.

So she’d done it. She’d seduced him.

She lowered her gaze, repeating to herself that this was right. For him. He’d be safe.

“I believe this is best for you,” she said quietly. “And you’ll have to accept that you won’t always get what you want.”

She stepped back again.

“One more step and you’re done talking,” he warned calmly.

“Even you can’t have everything,” she added. She didn’t retreat further.

He smiled. That smile that changed everything. Quiet. Confident. Final.

“There’s one great flaw in that reasoning of yours. You don’t belong to me because I want it. You belong to me because you want it. And as long as that’s true, there’s nowhere for you to run.”

She drowned in his certainty. As if he already had her under his control again. She closed her eyes for a moment, then met his gaze with firm resolve.

“Go home, Aiden,” she ordered aloud, turned, and walked away.

He clicked his tongue.

“I will!” he said to her back with such force it stopped her. “But I’m going with my wife.”

She did not even have time to move before he reached her. He seized her. Her face tightened in surprise, and the air flew from her lungs.

“No!” she cried.

His hands were faster. He caught her wrists behind her back. Hard. Firm. Not painful. But absolute.

“Aiden, let me go!” she struggled. Uselessly.

He stepped closer. Her back hit his chest. His strength surrounded her. Not explosive, but heavy. Quiet. Relentless. It was impossible to breathe against it.

He didn’t answer her cries. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his trousers with one sharp tug. Wrapped it around her wrists and bound them with a quick motion. Wordless. Efficient.

“Stop!” she screamed, twisting without effect.

He braced her against his shoulder and stayed silent. The strength in his arms was unyielding. He lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the clearing while she fought, kicked, and writhed.

“Put me down! Aiden, you can’t…”

“I can,” he corrected. “And I do.”

He dragged her to the place where the horse waited. He lifted her effortlessly into the saddle and mounted behind her. Pressed her firmly to him, one arm locked around her waist, the other on the reins. She was trapped. His breath brushed her neck. His shoulder pinned her in place. His silence carried the weight of an order that allowed no questions.

The forest quickly gave way to lighter clearings, until the shadow of the waiting carriage appeared ahead of them. The coachman stood. Aiden nodded once. The man opened the door without a word.

Before Tess could process anything, he pulled her down from the horse and shoved her inside. He followed. The carriage moved almost at once. Wheels creaked. The landscape began to move.

Aiden shut the door from within.

Silence. Tight. Terribly private. The air was heavy, smelling of sweat and anger.

“Sit,” he said. Nothing more. No hint of emotion.

Tess jerked, shoved herself away from the wall, and kicked the seat. Her face was flooded with defiance, her body moving like a cat shut in a cage. She tried to push her hands beneath her knees and get them forward, but the belt held. Every movement reminded her she was bound.

Aiden moved. Not fast. Precise. Like a predator with time.

She fought again. He was on her instantly. He caught her by the shoulders and forced her down onto the seat. She struggled with her back, legs, fists. She screamed, but incoherently, her cries breaking against his silence.

“That’s enough, little cat,” he murmured near her ear.

His body pinned hers completely. Shoulder locking her chest, knee immobilizing her legs. She gasped for breath. He held her. Without anger.

He removed one cord from the curtain, then the other, and dropped them to the floor. Every movement was precise, deliberate. He no longer cared whether she was begging him with her eyes. Untied the belt from her wrists. Drew her hands forward. For a moment, he released them, and in that instant she tried to kick him. Hard. He’d expected it. Caught her ankles. Yanked them toward him and pinned them to the seat with his knee. She tried to tear free, but he did not move. Wrapped the cord around her legs. Twice. Firmly, but not painfully. Just enough that she would not move. Almost as if he were stroking her, if there had not been such unyielding strength in it.

Then he took her wrists. They resisted too, and he bound them together. Slowly. Deliberately. Each pull of cord a reprimand. And proof that her body belonged to him.

When she finally went still, she lay sweaty, flushed, chest heaving. Eyes wide. Cheeks wet. He knew she wasn’t broken.

But he had her with him again, and that mattered.

He took a satin scarf.

“Open your mouth.”

She frowned, shook her head. Dodged and turned away. One last defiance.

He lifted her chin. Pressed her cheeks until her lips parted. Not roughly, but with such precision that her protest dissolved into nothing.

He slid the scarf inside and tied it behind her head. Slowly, with controlled care. He pushed Tess down against the seat and forced her to lie on her back. That way, even with her hands bound, she could reach the cord at her ankles and the scarf in her mouth.

“Try to loosen your restraints,” he whispered threateningly. “And I’ll bind your hands behind your back again. In this position, that will cause you great pain. The more you resist me, the harsher I’ll be with you. Don’t force me to hurt you.”

She stared at him. Defiance in her eyes, a storm in her chest.

He sat opposite her and watched her for a while longer. His chest was calm at last.

She’d still need a little taming again. And patience was already growing in him. The quiet patience of a man who takes everything that belongs to him.