Page 42 of Serpent King's Prisoner

But something in her gaze, green and fierce even through the tears, stopped me. “I’m going to shower,” I growled, my voice low and strained, trying to escape the web of self-loathing that threatened to consume me. “Wash off the blood and sex.” The words felt like dirt in my mouth.

“And me?” she said. “I’m covered in…you’ve made me so fucking filthy—“

“Good,” I snapped. “That’s what a fuckdoll should be.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned on my heel and shut myself in the bathroom, slamming the door behind me with more force than necessary. The sound reverberated through the tiny, tile-laden space, mirroring the chaos in my head.

As the hot water cascaded down from the showerhead, it seemed as if it were trying to wash away more than just the physical grime—it was a futile attempt to cleanse the stains on my soul. Standing there, letting the scalding streams punish my skin, I grappled with the guilt gnawing at my insides. Each drop that struck my chest where the inked dragon lay dormant seemed to hiss against my flesh, a reminder of the life I had chosen—or rather, the life that had chosen me.

“Fuck,” I cursed under the roar of the water, my hands braced against the cold wall. My thoughts raced back to Abby, cuffed and broken because of me. This wasn’t just business; this was personal—a line I never should have crossed.

How many times had I stared into the mirror like this, searching for a glimpse of the man who brought his mother flowers, who kept a garden, who helped his sister set the table?

How many times had I drowned in showers hoping to emerge reborn, only to find that the monster within clung to my bones more stubbornly than my own shadow?

I knew all about compartmentalization, about locking away parts of myself to survive in this underworld we called home. But tonight, the walls I’d built were crumbling, and the fragments were slicing through me, leaving me to bleed out beneath the relentless stream of water.

“Get it together, Fangs,” I muttered to myself, a nickname that now seemed too fitting. “You can’t fall apart. Not now.”

And yet, as I stood there, letting the water scorch my skin in penance, a treacherous thought surfaced: What if I could free her? What if I could undo this one act, give her back her dignity, let her walk away from the darkness that was my world?

It was a fleeting fantasy, gone as quickly as it had come. I knew the reality—I was who I was. Nathan Zhou, eldest son of the Serpent’s Head. There was no place for mercy in my life, no room for weakness.

If I let her go…both our lives would be on the line.

Freshly showered and wrapped in a towel, I stepped out of the bathroom. The steam followed like the ghost of my conscience, seeping into the room where Abby lay bound to the bedpost. Her green eyes, once vibrant, were now dull with resignation…or was it undying defiance? It was hard to tell through the tangled mess of her brown hair and tear-streaked face.

“Abby,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, my feet rooted to the spot as if the distance could somehow absolve me of what I’d done.

She didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch at the sound of her name on my lips. I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the guilt that seemed to have taken residence there.

“I—I want to let you go.” My words were strangled, fighting their way out. “God, I want to.”

Silence stretched between us, a chasm filled with unspoken words and shattered trust.

“But I can’t,” I continued, the sentence feeling like a life sentence for us both. “You know too much. And it’s not just my life on the line—it’s my family’s. The Triad... they’ll come after you, after us. They won’t stop until—“

“Until what, Nathan?” she interrupted, her voice hoarse but strong. “Until they kill me? Isn’t that what you’re going to do anyway?”

I flinched as if she’d struck me. She wasn’t wrong. Her fate had been sealed the moment she’d crossed paths with me. But hearing her say it, knowing I was the harbinger of her doom—it made the truth a poison in my veins.

“Maybe,” I admitted, hating myself more with each passing second. “But not by my hand. Not tonight.”

“Then when?” Her eyes flashed with a mixture of fear and challenge. “When does my time run out?”

I clenched my jaw, looking away from the raw pain in her gaze. “I don’t know.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she pressed, a single tear forging a path down her freckled cheek. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it.”

The plea in her voice stabbed at me, twisted and turned until I was the one who felt caged.

“Believe me, if there was another way…” My voice trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished. Because there wasn’t another way. Not in this world. Not in my world.

“Go ahead, Nathan,” she dared me with a broken laugh that held no humor. “Shower off my blood and walk away. I know you’ll just use me until you finally decide to kill me.”

I stood there, her words a noose tightening around my neck. The air between us was charged, and it made me want to hurt her again—or at least, to hurt someone. Without another word, I turned my back on Abby, her accusations echoing in the hollows of my chest.

The silence stretched out like a chasm as I left the room, the click of the door behind me barely registering. I needed to find that shiv, to figure out how she could have hidden it from me, but my thoughts were a tangle of thorns, each one barbed with guilt and confusion.

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