Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 37: His tongue

Cain’s expression remained cool and calm as he focused his gaze on Violet. She could feel the heat of his scrutiny, but no matter how much it burned, she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him.

The weight of the order he had given still rang in her mind, the echoes of her words sentencing Rane to death. Violet’s eyes remained unfocused, fixed on the floor, when the sound of measured footsteps pulled her from her daze. She glanced up just in time to see Cain walk past her, his tall frame cutting through the tense air as he strode out of the bathroom and into the main bedroom.

Instinctively, Violet hesitated, her legs refusing to move. She wanted to stay behind, to hide away in the bathroom where the intensity of his presence wouldn’t reach her. But her plan was short-lived. Cain’s hand seized her arm, his grip firm yet coldly steady, as he pulled her along without sparing her a second glance. He didn’t let go until they stood before his desk.

She watched him reach for a high shelf, retrieving two blue potions that she recognized immediately. Without ceremony, he pressed them into her trembling hands.

"Take it," he ordered, his eyes flickering to the angry red bruises on her palm and the fading ones tracing the corners of her wrist.

Violet accepted the potions, her fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. Yet, despite the urgency in his voice, she found herself paralyzed, unable to take even a sip. Her gaze darted between the bottles and Cain, whose unyielding expression made it clear he wouldn’t tolerate defiance. Reluctantly, she uncapped one and tilted it to her lips, pouring the tasteless liquid into her mouth. She swallowed it down, her throat tightening with every gulp.

The room was still. Too still. Until the double doors of Cain’s room were thrown open. The echo of the slam was sharp, jolting Violet like a crack of thunder.

The guard Cain had sent on a mission now stepped inside, dragging Rane by his arm. The sight of him was jarring—tears streaked down his swollen face, his mouth and shirt soaked in fresh blood. He groaned pitifully, his voice broken and pained, as the guard shoved him forward. Rane collapsed to his knees, his body shaking with anguish, while Violet’s stomach churned at the gruesome spectacle.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze dropped to Rane’s open mouth, where the dark, hollow void of his severed tongue was visible. The wound had been cauterized crudely, the edges burned and raw. He tried to scream, but the sound was guttural and mangled, every attempt to speak replaced by choking sobs.

"This is his tongue," the guard announced, kneeling before Cain and holding out the bloody piece of flesh in both hands as though it were a gift.

Cain barely glanced at it. "Give it to her," he said, his voice calm yet commanding.

The words sent a fresh wave of terror crashing over Violet. Her wide, disbelieving eyes darted to Cain, but his face remained indifferent, betraying no hint of remorse or hesitation.

The guard obeyed immediately, turning toward Violet with the severed tongue in hand. She recoiled at first, the sight and smell making her stomach churn, but Cain’s sharp voice froze her in place.

"Take it."

Her hand moved before her mind could catch up, trembling as she accepted the tongue. Its slick, cold texture pressed against her sweaty palms, and she bit back the urge to gag.

"What... what should I do with it, my lord?" she stammered, her voice trembling.

Cain’s response was maddeningly indifferent, as though the situation was nothing out of the ordinary. "Whatever you want."

Violet’s fingers curled around the gruesome object, her mind racing. All she wanted was to throw it away, to rid herself of the horror she held. Yet, under Cain’s watchful gaze, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Her heart pounded furiously as she waited for Cain to finish the job—to order Rane’s execution and end the nightmare once and for all. But instead, he leaned casually against the table, his cool demeanor unwavering.

"I wouldn’t have gone this far if you hadn’t pushed me!" Violet thought bitterly, her teeth clenching as she stared at Rane. She didn’t dare look at Cain, not when her own panic threatened to spill over.

But then Cain spoke, and his words sent ice through her veins.

"Take him to the basement. I’ll take care of him."

The guard nodded immediately, dragging Rane out just as mercilessly as he had brought him in. Rane’s bloodied clothes left faint smears across the floor as his broken sobs echoed down the hallway.

The heavy doors closed behind them, leaving Violet and Cain alone once more. She turned to him, the weight of what had just happened crushing her chest.

"You wanted his tongue. You have it," Cain said, his voice carrying a strange undertone of pride.

The words struck her like a physical blow. Her fingers tightened around the tongue involuntarily, and she forced herself to meet his eyes.

"You’re going to torture him?" she asked, trying to mask her growing fear with a feigned curiosity.

Cain tilted his head slightly, studying her with a faint smirk. "There’s no need to, is there?"

She grasped at the opportunity to dissuade him, her voice shaking as she continued. "He’s a pervert... and he’s—"

"I don’t care if he’s the dirtiest scum on earth, Violet." Cain interrupted smoothly, his gaze drifting upward as though his mind had wandered elsewhere. "I’m not torturing him for any reason in particular either."

The corner of his lips quirked into a subtle, sinister smile. "Sometimes... I just like to see people suffer."

His words hung in the air like a noose tightening around her neck. Her heart trembled, each beat echoing louder in the confines of her chest. Cain’s eyes bore into hers, their intensity suffocating, as if he were silently communicating something she couldn’t comprehend—or perhaps didn’t want to.

Without another word, he rose from his seat, striding toward the door.

"You should eat. Once you’re done, I expect you to redo the assignment you failed to complete. Who knows? You might get the hang of it."

As he reached for the door, Violet acted on instinct. She dashed toward him, her hand pressing against the door to block his path. Her breathing was uneven, her pulse roaring in her ears as Cain turned his gaze down to her.

For a brief moment, his eyes lingered on the crook of her neck. The subtle flicker of his attention sent a shiver racing down her spine, but she shoved the thought away, focusing on the words she forced out.

"Ca-can I come with you?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. She hated the question as soon as it left her lips. Every fiber of her being wanted to run as far from Cain as possible. Yet the fear of what he might uncover, the lingering threat of his wrath, kept her rooted in place.