TRIGGER WARNING- This chapter contains nonconsensual acts. Both written and implied. 

Drip.Drip.Drip.

The sound is almost annoying, yet curious with its repetitive nature.

Drip.Drip.Drip.

It's almost taunting in its consistency- never speeding up, never slowing down. It sometimes feels hard to breathe, and then dripping continues. He does his best to focus on it, between the white noise clouding his ears and the sudden relief of pressure. It feels as if someone is slowly squeezing the life out of him.

Drip.Drip.Drip.

Finally, he managed to open the lids that felt like lifting the world's weight. Water seeps from his lips as he struggles to catch his breath; the murky water reflects unique patterns across his clothes and into his vision, making him flinch.

"Damn it, stop passing out!" The voice hisses in the background.

"It's been hours." Another voice complains, "I'm starting to feel bad. His body temperature is probably too low even to register. He's pretty much dead, how much longer-"

"It's enough when I say it's enough!"

The desperation makes him chuckle, weak and insane as it may seem. Tilting his head back, jaw slack from exhaustion, he glances up at the chain, suspending him in the vat of water. "Did you do this just for me? Nice to see you cleaned up the place."

In an instant, the water surrounds him again, and he can recall why he was unconscious. When one has a deep-seated fear of drowning and one's captor proceeds to drown their victim over and over, consciousness is quite a feat.

Once more, he surfaces, not bothering to shake away the water pouring from his matted-down hair. "Any more comments?" Caspian addresses, silence is the only response he receives. Calming down his heart rate and stabilizing his breathing, the coping methods consume the battered victim. Unfortunately, a loss of consciousness is only a short reprieve; the body is now aware of what is happening to it.

He shakes uncontrollably from the chilled water, feeling the burn in his lungs, knowing that he is at the edge of his tolerance. Hours? He wished beyond anything else that this be the last time he was sent under, it was an excellent time to curse his immortality. Why did he always forget that he was challenging to kill? If they gave him enough time, his body would heal just enough to send him under again.

"I like the sound of silence."

"He's probably dead." The voice grumbles.

"Not dead. Just waiting for more torture." Verando manages as if it weren't even him speaking—his chest heaves, fighting against the chains wrapped so tightly around him.

The more time he kept Caspian busy, the less time he had to interfere with whatever I was trying to accomplish in France. It had to be morning by now; if he could hold out, the boats would leave, and Caspian would never know. Escape could come later; Caspian would have killed him by now if he had been going to.

Waiting to be sent under again, the chain begins to rattle as he's lifted out of the water. The force on his sore abdomen is enough to make him cringe; the chains tighten and roll, biting into his skin as they remove him from the vat and bring him to stand on the tile floor. 

His numb legs threaten to give out, but Caspian quickly grabs the hem of his jacket to hold him up. "Now, now, stand up. I'm starting to remember exactly why I wanted to dethrone you... you are insufferable."

"You're too kind...." Verando manages, his voice hoarse. "Here, I thought you liked me."

"I love you, you insufferable prick." Yanking the man to him, he stands on his toes to kiss him. For a brief moment, their lips meet, followed by the abrupt wrench of Verando twisting his body free from the man's grasp.

Water drenches the shorter man's clothes as he shakes his head free of the memory of the unrequested lip lock.

"I'd rather be stuck in the vat. Fuck off, Cas." Verando spits; in other words, he'd rather die than kiss the man who was single-handedly destroying the planet.

Watching his clothes for what feels like an eternity, Caspian carefully smooths over his shirt with a resigned sigh.

"You'd rather be in that vat than kiss me? Then give me the one thing I've wanted since I saw you that day? Do you know how hard it was to watch you fuck everyone else but me? Do you know how disgusting it was to see you fall for that pathetic excuse of a prince? The man whose family murdered us in hordes?!" The tanned hands grab the man's soaked jacket, their faces inches apart

The silence that responds brings on a cool, collected calm. With a flip of his hand, he dismisses the assistant, who reluctantly leaves.

Tonguing his cheek, Caspian carefully allowed the man to stand once more; the only thing seeming to hold him up was the tension in the chain. "You owe me. You owe me a life, all the years I wasted. All the times I drug your drunken ass home, the whores I sent back to their families, the times I covered for you." Gripping the tangles of gray hair, Caspian's body trembled angrily, yet Verando remained unmoving, jaw tight.

"It's never enough, Caspian."

Pursing his lips, he slowly nods, knotting and unknotting his hand in the man's hair before slapping him across the face. "Your father was right; how dare you look at me like that? I'd cut your eyes out if they weren't so damn beautiful." Pulling him down, he grasps Verando's jaw and brushes his thumb over the scar on his lower lip. It was as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to strangle the man or devour him.

Their lips were only a few inches apart, Caspian's parted ever so slightly; it was almost painful how badly the man wanted this to happen. How desperate he was, how he yearned for Verando to want him in even the slightest way. 

Yet the solemn expression never changes as Caspian baits him to take the opportunity. Verando's heart pounds in his chest and a flash of concern crosses the gray-haired man's face at the man's ever-increasing attempts and intentions reflected in his eyes.

 Meanwhile, Caspian chuckles like a madman who'd finally captured his prize.

"Right. Because I'm the selfish one. Funny how the whores are the ones who cry wolf; you know exactly what a man looks like when he wants something. Isn't that why you keep yourself so pretty?"  Holding him in his arms as if it were voluntary, Caspian tilts his head as he glances the man up and down. "Come on, nobody looks like that if they weren't begging to be had. Be honest, is that why you came here? So I could see you still looked the same?"

Grimacing, he jerked his jaw out of the man's hand, yet the chain still held him within inches of the other lycan. "You're out of your damn mind, Caspian. Do you even hear yourself?"

With a click of his tongue, Caspian pats him on the cheek, forcing him to accept the choke hold he held on his throat directly below his jaw, waiting for him to stop the feeble attempt to get free. "There. See, that's a good boy. You do know how to behave. You know how excited I get when I see you, covered in blood and battered the way you are. It's a shame I washed it all off with a bit of foreplay."

The tan hands slide down, releasing the man's throat to grip him by the belt loops. Cocking his head, Caspian confirms that there's nothing the gray-haired man could do to escape.

Try as he might, the chains were built to restrain a creature like Verando. "Get your hands off of me," Verando demands, his voice low, harsh. A slight tremble manages to work through his core at the realization of Caspian's true intentions. 

"No, I don't think I will. You see, Randy... I know you played with Red, and now I know exactly what you like. I've been too nice to you; it all makes sense." Caspian jerks the man's pants, unbuttoning them with a hard yank; Caspian reaches behind him to grab the man's ass despite the tension rigid in the restrained lycan's body.

Caspian shudders with excitement, enough to make Verando's stomach twist with disgust. "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? How often I have wondered if you were drunk enough to give me a try? I've been good; I refrained for so long, and for what? When you were out of your mind on opium, do you know how many times I could have had you? No, I've earned this. You owe this to me."

The man kept circling, coming back as if uncertain, yet Verando knew better than to think something like that. Caspian was savoring it, giving it all a chance to sink in what he was about to endure.

"So, I hope you don't mind- Hmm.. there I go, being nice again." With a chuckle, he meets that harsh, light gaze. "Don't worry, I know you like it rough. I imagine this will be enjoyable for both of us once you stop being so coy."

Stretching to kiss the man, Verando turns his head away, glowering at the ground as Caspian settles on his feet. "You're disgusting. No matter what you do to me, Caspian, I will never love you. I am not now, nor have I ever been, attracted to you, and I don't owe you a damned thing for treating you like my brother. You need to end this insanity and either kill me or let me go."

Pursing his lips, the Spanish man almost appears remorseful, as if the man's words had moved him. "Is that what you told everyone you teased into madness? The mistresses, the duchesses, the damned princesses you left in your wake? Sorry, I didn't mean it?  Randy, you and I know how vital follow-through is to our families. If you can't think of it as my undying love and devotion, think of it as an education or punishment for all that you put me through."

Pressing a button, the hook on the chain releases, dropping the numb man to his knees as Caspian kicks him down onto his face. While there was a moment where he hoped he'd been freed, it was obvious that the chain was still very much intact. With the time he'd been submerged, there was little strength left in his legs. "See? You're a professional. I knew you'd come around."

"Fuck you, Caspian." Verando snapped. No one was coming for him; he'd ensured that. Caspian was right; it was punishment. Punishment for thinking he could do this, for coming alone as if he had something to prove, for fooling himself into believing Caspian could be reasoned with. Leo had warned him, and he'd refused to listen. 

"While I'd prefer it, you and I know you can't be trusted. I'm not your husband, Randy; I don't have to care what you want or like." 

Struggling against the chain, it's a last-ditch effort to escape; at least he could claim he tried. He didn't just lie here and accept defeat. Caspian kneels beside him, gripping his hair and shoving his face against the concrete. " You know what the most satisfying part of all of this? After I'm done with you, nobody else will want you either. "