Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 62

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

But he was no longer sunk in helpless unconsciousness. At an unexpected name, his heart reacted first.

This man called Jayden knows Fiona’s name. How?

Fiona had said she was Caligo’s bride. Had she said the same to this man? If so, had she given him the same warmth she gave Caligo?

Even with his mind not yet functioning fully, Caligo instinctively grew wary. Following anxiety, the emotion of displeasure was born. Without even knowing the reason, the thought of sharing Fiona with this man was intensely disagreeable and disturbing.

Had this man taken Fiona away? Was that why she had vanished from before his eyes? Was her failure to return also because of this man? Otherwise, why would she have acted as if she would remain by his side, only to leave so suddenly?

These unresolved questions sharpened his mind another degree. To fathom why Fiona did not reappear. To guess at the relationship between this man and Fiona.

“Disgusting beast.”

But before Caligo could recall anything further or obtain any clue, the man drove a fist into his solar plexus and departed.

Physically, the blow was no more than a tickle, but the emotion behind it sensitised Caligo.

Even after being submerged in the ice-cold lake waters, this sensitivity and agitation did not fade. And when that agitation reached its peak, Fiona appeared before him once more.

The woman had come back to him. Caligo’s still-chaotic inner self realised this fact and rejoiced.

He wanted to convey this joy to her. That he was here, that he was trapped within this incomplete system of consciousness.

At the same time, a sound bubbled from his throat. His vocal cords, which had not functioned for so long, finally articulated a sound she could understand.

‘Fi… ona…’

Like an old hearth coughing up ash, his tongue, stiff as a block of wood, expelled language.

Fiona rejoiced at this. It served as another powerful motivator. His consciousness rose to another level.

He wanted to know more about her. He wanted her to listen to what he said. The desire to communicate with Fiona stimulated him further.

As reward for this recovery, he was granted ecstasy like the night before. What followed was nothing but rapture, as if his very bones and flesh were melting.

Caligo gratefully accepted every sensation she gave him. The more his physical senses awakened, the more his reason seemed to revive stitch by stitch. Or perhaps reason fled altogether, and he was merely swept away on waves of sensation?

Unlike yesterday, when he could only lie like a warm corpse, Caligo now burned with the desire to penetrate her of his own will.

Even when Fiona withdrew her body to deepen their union, he grew anxious and agitated, hating to be separated from her. He simply wanted to remain locked together as one body.

She seemed to have uttered more wanton moans than before at his movements, thrusting deeper. That sound, too, was welcome. That voice, melting sweetly in his ears, shook and awakened his spirit.

But the ecstatic time that seemed eternal ended in a fleeting moment, disappointingly brief. A sweetness far too short compared to the waiting.

* * *

Caligo learned the concept of waiting with his body. After the tedious waiting, like death itself, Fiona would come to him.

While she was absent, he was occasionally thrown into the lake or overworked as a sparring partner for soldiers under the guise of training.

But Caligo did not yet know emotions such as humiliation or suffering. For him, after tedious and meaningless time passed, he could meet Fiona at its end. That alone became the entirety of his simple world.

Caligo engraved this routine into his body as if branding it, and soaked in those days as if addicted. Yet before long, Caligo learned another concept. It was despair in the name of loss.

Fiona’s visits, which had come every night, abruptly ceased. To him, who had no sense of time, unable even to know how many days had passed, the waiting felt like eons, and he lost all direction.

Caligo was afraid. Would he be thrust back into the abyss forever like this? Or perhaps he already had been. Reality without Fiona was no different from the abyss, which held nothing.