Since Jacqueline and I fought, I have avoided her like the black plague. Secretly, I’ve been praying all week, waiting for our results, hoping my shit isn't working or that my seed is poisoned. Because having children and passing on my legacy has lost its appeal. And if I’m the broken one, maybe Jacqueline will leave me.

I fucking pray she will.

I loathe her now, years of disdain turning me black inside and creating a deeper core filled with putrid hate. I am ashamed of the man I let her control. I am a man of dominance, and she belittled me, stripped me bare, and dragged me by the fucking balls. And last night, in my tossing and turning state, I remembered the one woman who latched on and dragged me by my throat.

Lizith. Her long fucking hair, dark and cascading down her shoulders. Fuck, I bet she's grown up so much. Matured, but still seemingly innocent in the wideness of her eyes and the swell of her doll-like lips. Her skin still creamy, always looking untouched, except under her panties and bra, where I would bite to bruise her with my mark. Our little secret.

I step on the throttle when I hit the highway, her image fueling the alpha beast inside. I miss my mate that I made the mistake of letting go. I bet she is married now with that white picket fence. A man with cufflinks and a cheap tie, working a nine-to-five before coming home to dissatisfy her. He can’t touch Lizith like I can, and I hope—fucking beg God—that at night when she closes those pretty greens, she sees my eyes piercing into her, my hands breaking her in underneath me. Because even if she settled down in a life of lies, hiding the damaged little bird she is, I know I still haunt her nightmares. Because she still haunts my dreams.

I will always own Lizith, even in the air and space between us, in her mind and in her fucking beating heart.

I arrive at the fertility clinic and park my sleek black Model S Tesla next to the white Mercedes Jacqueline drives. I take a deep breath and look at my distant eyes in the rearview mirror. My peppered hair is styled to perfection without a strand out of place. The slight wrinkles around my eyes show years and years of torture. I may be getting older, but my body doesn't show it. I’ve stayed fit and as youthful-looking as I could.

“Here we go, Xander,” I rumble low in my chest, taking one last look before climbing out of the car. I went with a casual look today, dark denim against my brown distressed boots and lightweight gray top. They complement my rugged features well. The sun beams down, and in a brief moment, I close my eyes and see Lizith grasping my shirt. She always did that when I came to her after being away for so long. Opening my eyes, I take notice that my hand is gripping my shirt in reaction.

Shaking my head and getting myself in the game, I compose myself and walk into the building. I’m greeted by the overly flirtatious blonde at the front desk, “Good morning, Mr. Stine.”

“Morning. Has Jacqueline checked in yet?” I ask, signing in and checking over the list.

“Um, yes. She did. But she went back to talk to Dr. Curtis. Said she had some questions for him.”

She seems off, a little uneasy with her answer, and I quirk my brow. “Hmm. Sounds important. I guess I will just wait for her to come out.”

“Perfect, you will be seeing his PA today. I’ll let her know you’re here, and I’ll let Jacqueline know as well.”

With a subtle nod, I decide I will let it go for now, and watch her disappear. Taking a seat, I pull out my phone and check the online boards to see if any of my students have submitted their thesis paper. A few minutes later, I hear that nails on a chalkboard sound. Jacqueline’s heels click harshly against the tile floor and her fake laugh echoes as she ends a phone call. I refrain from subjecting myself to the adolescent behavior of rolling my eyes at her.

Standing when she gets close, as the receptionist waits beside the front desk with a manila folder in her hand, I greet my wife with forced effort. “Hello, is everything all right? You had to see the doctor?”

Instantly, she rolls her eyes and pulls out her lipstick, the same damn color she’s worn every day for the past twenty years. Fiery, devil red. “Xander, don’t act like you care. I just had some fertility questions. Don’t pretend like you’re the perfect, concerned husband when we both know it’s a waste of time.” I tighten my lips and my jaw flexes as my hands grow white under the extreme pressure of me squeezing them into fists.

Lizith would never disrespect me like that. She would thank me and fall to my fucking feet for making sure she was okay. Though Jacqueline is right—I don’t give a shit. But she said it loud enough for the others in the room to hear. And I, Xander Stine, do not like to be disrespected in front of anyone.

“You’re right. I don’t. Don’t forget to add some cover up. Your fucking age is showing, baby,” I sneer, dragging out the last word with disdain. She scoffs, and I walk past her, meeting the receptionist with an unaffected smirk, as if everything is normal and the exchange she witnessed was nothing but pleasant. “After you, dear.”

She gulps then sets into a scurrying pace. Jacqueline catches up as I take a seat in what I assume is the physician’s assistant’s office. I haven’t met him yet, having only come in to give my sample, but from what I can see, he is pristine—like me. Everything is hung evenly, the desk is clean, and everything is in its rightful place. Nothing is out of the ordinary or scattered like many offices are. It’s as if I was the one who resided here.

The colors are black and white with gold accents—my personal preference—and I look at every detail. The bookshelf just behind the PA’s chair catches my eye, and I see multiple books, more than half I’ve read and own, some of my favorites. What in the actual fuck? It’s as if I stepped into my own office.

Jacqueline sits next to me, and as I go to comment about it and ask her who the PA is, I hear a voice that steals my breath and snaps all my male arousal into overdrive. The dreams she haunted are now given a reality.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stine, I’m glad you could make it in today.”

I don’t turn around. Instead, my eyes stay focused in front of me as each step she takes closes in on me and I wait for her to assault my vision. Is this a dream? A fucking flashback? I answer that when she finally rounds the desk and Jacqueline says hello.

“Xander?” Jacqueline’s voice pulls me from myself, and when I focus my eyes on the goddess in the chair on the other side of the desk, my cock goes hard and my heart seizes in my chest. Green eyes and long, straight brown hair and still the flawless face of my goddamn visions—in both my beautiful heaven and darkened hell. My fucking lifeline.

“Xander! What the hell is wrong with you?” Jacqueline snaps at me, and I sit up, finding myself suddenly.

“Sorry, I forgot I had to do something for work. Hello, I’m Xander.” I look her over, taking a moment to peruse her beautiful body behind the clear glass of her smudge-less desk. Good little bird, keeping everything clean like her keeper likes it.

She is wearing a short purple dress under her white coat, and her lean legs are crossed at her ankle like I trained her to do. Her tits are still as luscious and mouthwatering as they always were, but it’s those fucking eyes that steal my breath. She challenges me with a smirk on her pouty lips and a knowing glint in her green orbs.

“I know who you are.” She pauses, and I look to Jacqueline, panicked at the way she said that. “I mean your wife has told me about you, and you are both here to start a family.” Jacqueline doesn't catch on and makes work of looking at her phone, and my eyes find Lizith’s when she rolls “family” off her tongue in a jealous tone. I’m the only one who notices, because I know her invidious tone of voice.

I shake my head as my eyes zero in on her, and hers drop submissively. I watch her body slowly coil in and she places both her palms on the desk, facing them up. She waits a few seconds before looking up to me from under her thick lashes, her head still drawn down. My fists in my lap turn white as my jaw tics. I shake my head again and watch her eyes well with tears. I give her a stern look without saying anything, and she knows what to do. She takes a deep breath and keeps her tears at bay as she falls back into a normal posture.

Jacqueline finally looks up when she picks up on the silence. “Sorry, it was work. All right, what are we looking at here? Was he…” She tilts her head to me, the mention of me distasteful in her mouth. But it doesn’t distract me from my little bird. Fuck, I missed her. “Broken?”

Lizith’s eyes pinch as she looks at Jacqueline. I clear my throat, and she jumps a little, her glare turning into a soft smile, faking it like she knows she better or her little ass will be what’s broken. “No, Xander, you are not the problem. You had one hundred and twenty million for your sperm count per your ejaculation. Placing you far above average.” Jacqueline misses the way Lizith’s lip lifts and her legs tighten under the table, her thighs clenching together.

Fuck. I smell her. The second she relaxes, I smell her feminine scent, my poison.

“Well, maybe we should do it a second time, because if it isn't me, then it must be him,” Jacqueline insists next to me in annoyance. But she is a fly in this room because I just metaphorically whipped out my cock and showed the woman of my dreams what a real man I am.

That’s right, little bird. The second she leaves this room, that fertile body and warm pussy is going to get all that seed, and you will take it like a good little pet.

“We can do that. I can schedule it, but I think we should also run another test on you as well, Jacqueline.” Lifting her hand, she tucks her hair perfectly behind her ear, and seeing the first set of pearls I ever gave her adorn her lobes, I swallow thickly. Lizith is playing with me, and I’m about to fucking burn her. She should have known what she was doing would earn her the worst punishment.

And as she tries to convince Jacqueline to retest, I realize this is no coincidence. This isn't happenstance. This was done on purpose. She knew this from day one. But for how long? How long did my little bird plan this, and how the fuck did she pull this off? I left her behind and didn't give her a chance to find or follow me, but she fucking did.

What a psychotic, dangerous, insanely fucking gorgeous, bad little bird she is. But fuck me, what a good girl my baby is. I should run, and most men would, but this just makes me want to reward her with punishment. How dare she be this close and know this was her plan all along without telling me and fucking waiting years to make herself known again? How dare she stay away, yet be so close without coming to me?

What the fuck are you up to, my broken little psycho?

* * *

“Fine. But I will only let Dr. Curtis do it. He is very thorough and I trust him to make sure it is done safely,” Jacqueline speaks at me, not to me, or so she thinks. Little does she know that while Xander thinks she is talking about trust, she is really talking about climbing higher on her throne of lies and deceit.

“That’s fine, Mrs. Stine, if that is what you would like. I will have you make an appointment with him at his earliest convenience. Other than that, I have nothing else to add unless you two have any questions for me.” I look at Xander when I say this, and my eyes nearly water when I see the shadow of hurt under his scowl of disappointment. He’s mad at me, and I know it from the way his lip curls when he speaks. That and the way his knuckles grip the chair and his taut shoulders go stiff in that perfect gray tee that is lucky to be against his flesh.

I didn't want to hurt him. I thought this would have made him happy, but it seems to be the complete opposite. I just want Jacqueline out of here so he can come barreling back in and punish me with his hands, and lash the whip of his harsh, hurt words against my heart. I will take it in order to make him feel better after the pain I caused him.

“No. We don’t,” he speaks. It’s a gravelly, smooth sound, like whiskey on rocks, and it melts my core. That’s his Dominant voice, the keeper in him coming out.

I stumble on my words, coughing to wake my throat from its slumber. “Okay. Please schedule your next appointment, and I will see you both very soon.” I enunciate the word, my eyes looking him over with my brows drawn in sorrow. I hurt my keeper, and my wings are tucked and bent from shame and pain. I lost a feather when he looked at me like I crushed his heart in my hands.

He nods and stands, and with a few heavy, calculated, and unfaltering steps, he disappears from my office with Jacqueline in tow. Immediately, the tears fall and I break character like I shouldn’t. My shoulders slump and my knees cave in and bang together as I cry into my palms. I did this all wrong, and now I feel like I made a mistake.

I hurry and stand, losing my clothes, because I can sense him still near, I feel his presence, and I don't want to upset him more.

Stripping to nothing and falling bare on my knees just to the side of my desk, I drop my butt to my feet and lay my palms face up, lowering my head in surrender. Then I wait. Doing my best to stop the tears and breathe in and out calmly, I’m unable to. I hurt him. I hurt Xander. I did to him what I promised I would never do. Even after he crushed me and left me with wounded wings, I promised I would never hurt him.

I must have gotten lost in my thoughts, because I didn't hear him reenter my office until he speaks.

“Lizith,” he says sternly. It’s like a crack in the foundation when he calls me by my name. His voice crawls into my skin and bruises me with punishment. I’m his little psycho, his broken bird, his good little girl when he is proud of me. But ‘Lizith’ is reserved for the few times I have hurt him beyond what he can control.

I don’t look up, but I speak, desperate to share a conversation with him after years of being starved of it. “Xander, my love. I am so sorry. I wanted you to be happy, and I didn't do that. Break me. Please, pluck my feathers and bruise me. Just don’t hurt anymore, my keeper.” I choke out the last part with a pained sob. And before he can speak, I crawl to him, naked, bared to him completely, vulnerable, and stripped of any identity of my own. I am his now. I belong to Xander.

The carpet scratches my knees, and I do it purposely to punish myself. When his brown boots come into view, I bring the peaks of my knees to the tips of his shoes and slowly, looking up, my eyes assess every inch of him, especially his cock outlined in his fitted jeans. My heart cracks deeper in my chest. He is my home and he has been gone for so long. The image of seeing him or the dream of touching him again was never as good as this reality.

When our eyes meet, he is still stone-faced, and I shake my head, my silky hair rubbing back and forthagainst my hot, sensitive skin. “Please, touch me. Forgive me. Do whatever, but please fucking touch me, Xander.” Suddenly, he bends enough to grab hold of me under my chin and around my neck with authority and barely lifts, but I set into motion and come to stand.

“Watch your mouth, little girl. I don't like hearing nasty things fall from my bird’s cherry lips.” My knees buckle at his power. My core tightens and I begin to grow wet. God, I have missed his strong, aggressive control over me. “You hid from me. You knew about me being here all along. You have been here and you waited. You fucking kept yourself from me, and that isn't like you, Lizith. I trained you better than to challenge me. But here I am at your fucking mercy, mad as hell, and ready to punish you. You have me by the fucking throat, you bad girl.”

I choke when his grip tightens on my throat as he spins me around and pushes me against the wall. “I wanted to wait until you were ready. You told me you couldn't have me anymore, keeper. That’s why you left. You really hurt me when you left me, Xander.” My eyes drop, and those tears return with a vengeance, falling fast.

“Leaving you was the only choice I had, but coming back to you was always an option.”

“But… her.” I don't call her his wife, because I refuse to give him claim over anyone but me. “You left me with nothing but a goodbye and a kiss from death, Xander. You left me to start a family with her instead of me!” I snap. The years of controlled behavior that he instilled in me leaves, and I fucking snap, taking him by surprise and spinning in his grip. Banging on his chest and slapping his face over and over again, I start to scream, not caring if anyone can hear. But he is stronger.

“No!” Covering my mouth, his hand leaves my neck and he spins me around, and within seconds, his free hand comes down hard on my ass. The sting is so deep I feel it in my very blood, causing a pulse at the place of his assault.

“Uh!” I muffle a yell into his palm he clamps over my mouth.

“You calm down and tell me why you did this. You tell me what you wanted from this.” He has somehow not broken demeanor. Xander maintains control and exudes his authority.

I wait a few moments and take deep breaths through my nose, and once I calm, I nod against the wall.

“Good, now sit on the desk and spread your legs while you tell me.” I do as he orders and move to the desk. Scooting back on it, I spread my legs and watch him take a seat in the chair in front of me. He places his ankle on top of his opposite knee and stares at me. His cheek rests against two long, thick fingers, and his other hand is placed, beautiful and stoic, against the arm of the white chair.

His look is impassive as he peruses my body, his eyes assaulting my breasts then my little stomach, and all the way to my wet, bare core. I moan and move my hips in a circular motion, wanting some friction, but he stays seated and it drives me mad.

“Speak. Touch yourself while you do, Lizith.”

I gulp and tentatively move my hand along my stomach until my dainty finger makes contact with my clit. “Oh, Xander,” I whisper, a breathy moan in the closed office.

“Now, little bird, or I will leave and make you follow me again,” he threatens, and I nearly come, the thought of him leaving so I can chase him again sickeningly arousing.

“I wanted you. I wanted to be what you needed, and I knew I could be, but I had to do it so you wouldn't be able to leave again.”

“Fucking eyes. Now.”

My head snaps up at his demand and I meet his hungry, pissed eyes. “I… I… God, I wanted to do something so dangerous and wrong and sick, because it was a way for me to make you proud. You always loved me most when I was your bad little psycho.”

“And? Spit it out, sweet girl,” he coos, playing good cop, coercing it out of me.

“I followed you and waited until she slipped up. Waited until I could find a way to keep her from hurting you anymore. So when I found a way, I took it.”

He places his foot on the ground and leans forward, looking at me with interest and lust. “What did you do, little bird?” he challenges, knowing that isn't all I did.

I rub my clit faster with my secret on the tip of my tongue, and the minute he quirks his brow and his tongue brushes against his lip, I explode. “I had to steal you, Xander!” I orgasm hard, feeling every part of my body as if I were standing outside it and watching myself reach euphoria.

He growls and stands above me as I’m still coming down from my orgasm, my breath heavy. Grabbing my throat again and bringing my lips just inches from his, he whispers, “Stole me? What did you do, Lizith?”

I try to breathe, but between the orgasm and his grip, I can’t get my control back. “I… stole your sperm! I injected myself with your seed so I could give you what your foul, cheating wife can’t!” I yell out when I finally can, and I watch his face go stony again as he lets me go. I go to claw at him, but he steps back before I can pull him in to comfort him.

“How do you know she's cheating?”

It hurts that this is what he asks about first.

I almost say something, but decide against upsetting him more. “I have videos, surveillance of her having sex with Dr. Curtis, and she’s been lying. Taking birth control from him so she can’t get pregnant. She hurt you, and I have proof. So I took your sperm. I wanted to give you what you wanted. I wanted to please you. I wanted to show you how much I love you.”

He keeps his back to me and plants his hands firmly on his hips. I stand on shaky legs and bring my arms around my chest to shield myself from the cold air.

“Xander. Please don’t be mad at me. I thought you would be happy. Aren't you happy with me for bringing us together again?” I wait, and when he says nothing, my heart breaks all over again. He isn't happy. He is going to say goodbye and go back to her, isn't he?

“Send me the tapes. Now. I expect them in my inbox by the time I get home.” And with that, he leaves me cold, alone, broken, and naked for the second time. And just like the first time, I lose my sanity a bit more. But I make a promise to win him back. I will chase him again if he leaves.

I will.