Dante Castelli.

The image of Elijah’s terrified eyes flashed through my mind.

That horror carved into every delicate feature—wide eyes, parted lips… I ran my tongue across my lips, sliding my hand down my abdomen until it wrapped around my throbbing cock. A firm grip, a steady rhythm, while the scene played out in my mind.

Him on his knees. Wet mouth. Tear-filled eyes. The glow of fear already giving way to submission. A perfect picture. My body pulsed, breath turning ragged. The pleasure built fast—wild, impossible to hold back.

A low moan escaped. My head fell back. The climax hit hard and fast, stealing all the air from my lungs. I had never come so quickly. Proof of just how desperately I craved him.

And tonight, nothing and no one will save him from me.

Still floating in the afterglow, I reached for the soap and began to scrub the blood from my skin. My fingers ran through stiff strands of hair, now caked with the dry remnants of the massacre. I sighed, tilting my head back, letting the hot water cascade over my scalp as I massaged the filth away.

After finishing the shower, I grabbed a towel and walked to the rusted metal sink. My reflection stared back from the cracked mirror. My hair had grown too long, falling lazily over my face. Maybe it was time for a trim—but honestly, what did it matter?

I towel-dried my hair and tied it into a firm bun on top of my head. Just as I turned to the door, one of the guards entered, holding out a clean uniform. I took it from his hands without a word and began to dress.

As I adjusted the fabric against my skin, I looked up at the man, who stood stiffly, tense.

“Are tonight’s fights already set?”

He swallowed hard before answering.

“Yes, sir. Three fights are scheduled for the yard tonight.”

A smirk pulled at my lips.

“Let’s hope they’re worth the show. I don’t have the patience for anything mediocre.”

The guard nodded quickly.

“The selected inmates are strong. Should be entertaining.”

I crossed my arms and stepped forward, forcing him to step back slightly.

“Find out who they are and report to me. I want something worth my time.”

Without hesitation, he rushed out, leaving me alone again. A faint smile lingered on my lips. Fights always made the night more bearable.

I left the bathroom, heading toward the prison yard. The sunlight hit my warm skin as I inhaled deeply, taking in the thick scent of sweat and rust in the air. In the distance, scattered groups kept themselves busy in pointless conversations, distracting themselves from the real hell around them.

Some sought protection, forming fragile alliances. Others preferred solitude, trying to survive without strings. Fools. In the center of the chaos, new prisoners were being sized up by predatory stares—like prey being selected by hungry hunters.

I approached the benches, ready to sit, when something caught my attention. A tall inmate, covered in tattoos, strutted through the yard with his chest puffed out, laughing loudly, spewing arrogance.

“This place is too easy! I’ll fuck any weak little bitch that crosses my path!” His laughter rang out across the space, some prisoners echoing it, feeding his ego.

My jaw clenched. The mere thought of that worm even thinking of getting near my little rabbit made my blood boil. A dark smile formed as I advanced toward him.

“Big mouth for someone who hasn’t proven shit yet.”

His laughter stopped. His gaze locked with mine and hardened as he realized who he was facing. Still, he tried to keep up the act.

“And who the hell do you think you are, calling me out?”

I stepped closer, closing the distance until I could feel his heavy breath.

“Reaper.”

His expression changed instantly. The air grew dense. The inmates nearby began to back away. Still, the idiot clung to his last thread of bravado.

“Hah! F**k you. Everyone says you’re the devil in this place, but I’m not scared. Bet you’re just a washed-up old man.”

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