Even If It Means to Break - Chapter 20

Hill moved without realizing it. She stumbled forward, unsteady, as though she might collapse at any moment.

At last, she was only three steps away from the cage. There was no way the prisoner inside hadn’t sensed her presence. Yet he never once lifted his gaze to meet hers.

A voice boiling with urgency clogged her throat and refused to come out. Her mouth felt as dry as a desert. She worked her lips soundlessly, mute, trying at least to close the distance by walking toward him.

“Have you come, Hill.”

The voice seized the nape of her neck without warning. Before she could even flinch and turn around, arms wrapped around her.

The man pulled her thin waist flush against his body, resting his cheek against hers as he murmured.

“The ceremonial robes suit you beautifully.”

“……”

If this were any other moment, she might have snapped back, demanded what kind of scheme it was to dress her in a tana’s regalia. But she couldn’t now. Every ounce of her attention was fixed on the person trapped inside the cage right in front of her.

Her heart hammered violently, the pulse roaring in her ears until it felt as though it were striking her skull itself. Even in her panic, she tried desperately to think.

I—I need to do something. Right now… what should I do…?

“My Hill has grown even more fragrant after just one day apart.”

The man buried his nose in her nape and inhaled. Normally, it would have given her goosebumps, but now she only felt numb. The hand fumbling at her skirt knot slid beneath her top. When his fingers touched her bare skin, her mind jolted back into painful clarity.

His hand brushed over the fabric covering her chest, kneading tender flesh. Behind her, she could feel his arousal pressing insistently against her. Her head spun. Trembling faintly, Hill finally forced her lips apart.

“…Wait. Just—wait.”

She shook her head desperately, trying to make him stop, clutching at the arms locked around her as she pleaded, word by word,

“Not here… please…”

She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Her fading voice sounded less like resistance than raw desperation.

Please. Not here. Not in front of him.

Amusement curved the man’s lips. With an almost playful smile, he asked in an exaggerated tone,

“Oh? Are you feeling shy, Hill?”

As he spoke her name, his grip tightened sharply around her chest. She flinched, shoulders jerking, and he whispered close to her ear,

“That’s not like you, someone who takes my c**k every day and rocks her hips on it.”

“Pl—please. I—I…”

Her plea dissolved into a sob. But reality remained merciless.

The man leisurely licked away the tears clinging to her lashes, then slid his hand down to her thigh. Pressing his palm between her slightly parted legs, he finally asked, mockingly,

“Is it that even a shameless harlot who ruts with a beast every night wants to play the virtuous maiden in front of her father, Hill?”

The word struck her like a blow.

Father.

She had expected it, yet hearing it spoken aloud carried a weight far heavier than mere anticipation. Hill’s trembling eyes fixed on the cage.

In the darkest corner, the figure inside remained hunched, head bowed. He wasn’t unconscious. He simply refused to lift his head.

Her gaze traced over his prematurely whitened crown, then drifted lower. To the bony neck, the emaciated right arm, the fingers gripping the bars, joints standing out sharply.

Her eyes filled again at the sight of skin crusted thick with dried blood. She swallowed hard, forcing the sobs back down.

Drawing in slow, deliberate breaths, she shifted her gaze again. This time toward the left side, which had been obscured by shadow. As the changing light revealed the outline bit by bit, her stare abruptly froze.

The left shoulder.

The left arm—

She had thought his frailty was simply from starvation and abuse. But it wasn’t only that.

Her mouth fell open as if to scream.

“Th-the arm…”

The words spilled out in a shaking whisper. The man holding her replied casually,

“I considered cutting off the right arm, but it would’ve made daily life inconvenient. So I took the left instead.”

“Wh—why… why would you…?”

“No matter how impudent he may be, he is still your father. I couldn’t very well take my father-in-law’s right arm, could I?”

“……”

When she couldn’t respond, the man resumed moving the hand still inside her top. He tugged her chest covering halfway down, his palm closing around her b****t. He rolled her n****e between his fingers, though it hadn’t yet fully hardened. Cradled in his arms, Hill shook uncontrollably.

“Why… are you doing this…?”

He didn’t answer. He simply pressed his face into her fragrant neck and kept moving his hand.

Her body that were so thoroughly trained, betrayed her even now, responding obediently in a situation like this. His other hand rested between her thighs without moving, yet she still struggled to suppress the sounds escaping her lips.

He rubbed between her legs without even lifting her skirt. Even through layers of fabric, sensation bled through. Hill’s breathing grew increasingly unsteady.

“What reason does a male need to go into heat at the sight of a female?”

He whispered as he lightly bit at her sweet-smelling neck.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Haven’t we been rutting together every night already?”

His fingers tightened, gathering the rich folds of her skirt in his hand.