The shadows of the early morning still clung tightly to the corners of the master suite back in GeeVee.
Guron slowly opened his eyelids, his mind groggy as the deep haze of sleep began to clear from his brain. He rolled his neck, intending to sit up and stretch his massive, muscular frame after the intense physical exhaustion of the previous night. But the moment he tried to lift his upper body off the mattress, a sharp, metallic jerk snapped his wrists back with a harsh clink.
Guron frowned, his brow furrowing into deep ridges as he tried to pull his arms forward again. Nothing moved. He turned his head sharply to the left, then to the right, and a sudden wave of disbelief rushed straight to his face.
His wrists were tightly bound to the heavy iron bars of the structural bedframe by a pair of solid, reinforced steel handcuffs.
He was completely restrained by his own wife. He couldn’t move his body more than a few inches in any direction.
"Damn it! Fuck!" Guron roared out, his voice booming through the empty bedroom as he yanked against the metal chains, making the entire bed frame rattle and shake against the floorboards. He twisted his wrists, skinning his flesh against the cold steel, but the locks didn’t give an inch.
He dropped his head back onto the pillow, cursing himself inwardly with a terrifying, silent rage. He realized instantly how completely and systematically he had been played by his tricky omega wife. He had been a total fool. He shouldn’t have allowed his pride to take over; he shouldn’t have told her a single word about him also wanting an Enigma grandchild at all costs. He bitterly blamed his own loud, blabby mouth for this disaster. If he had just kept his lips sealed, he could have silently reasoned out the strategic data, returned to the main estate, and looked for a secret way to ensure Jannah and Dorrent mated to give him that ultimate grandchild without his wife finding out.
But since he had already let his ambitious thoughts out into the open, the layout of his plan was completely compromised. He looked at the empty side of the bed, the sheets already cold, and a sickening feeling of dread settled deep in his stomach. By now, knowing Himelda’s sharp, decisive nature, she might have already boarded an aeroplane. She was probably already arriving in Freenly City at this very second, marching straight toward the Grefo mansion to destroy his grand plan before it could even begin, throwing the precious herbalist out into the gutters where anyone could get her.
Guron ground his teeth together, his eyes flashing with an intense power. I’ll just break these damn things, he thought fiercely. He took a massive breath, tightening every single muscle in his chest and arms as he attempted to release his high-density Alpha energy power to shatter the steel links into dust.
He pulled and squeezed, waiting for the familiar, explosive rush of his dominant aura to flood his veins. But absolutely nothing happened. His veins remained completely quiet, his body feeling strangely hollow and heavy, like a normal human worker.
Guron’s eyes widened in a sudden realization as a sweet, heavy scent hit his nostrils. The air in the room was faintly perfumed with a specific, synthetic chemical mist. She had sprayed the entire room with that rare, power-suppressing perfume she always secretly used on his system when she wanted to take absolute, dominant control in their bed, riding on top of his body and stopping him from moving a single millimeter while she took her pleasure.
"Women and their scheming... they are so unpredictable!" Guron growled out into the empty room, his chest heaving with a frantic, helpless anger. The very weapon she used for their intimate games had been weaponized to lock him away like a common criminal.


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