Chapter 10
The Confession and the Unwanted Embrace
"I'm not him. I'm not the Jamie you know." I muttered, my voice barely above a strained whisper, but the words were clearly heard in the close, humid confines of the bathing room.
The lethal grip on my neck loosened slightly, enough to allow a ragged, wheezing cough to escape my lungs. His gaze, however, remained dangerously fixed, peering into my skull, waiting for me to provide a full explanation before the inevitable strangling resumed.
I took a few shallow breaths, forcing air into my deprived lungs. "I'm Jamie Ronan, and that's my real name, not Jamie from the beast world. And I am from a world called Earth, a world of strange technology, abundant food, and no beastmen." I swallowed hard, trying to keep the terror from choking my voice. "Then I died in my world… and I woke up here, in this body." I muttered, trying desperately to sound believable, watching his expression for any flicker of doubt or acceptance.
"Keep talking," he ordered, his voice still low, still a rumble of contained violence. He didn't move, yet his stillness was more menacing than any threat.
"I don't have ill intentions. I just want to live a second life," I explained, the sincerity now genuine. "I'm trying to navigate my life with six kids and a husband. It's weird, terrifying, and overwhelming, but I'm genuinely doing my best. I swear I don't have ill intentions; I just found myself in this situation." There was absolutely no need for lying now. This guy was truly capable of strangling me to death, and I couldn't imagine a life away from the system's food rewards.
"Where is Jamie?" he asked, his crimson gaze finally flickering with something that might have been pain, or confusion, or maybe just a new kind of madness.
I had to answer with the script the System had conveniently supplied me with moments earlier, since it was usually so good at keeping quiet in dire situations, or else talking too much about flirting.
"He… he died. He was already gone, and my soul got into his body when I woke up here," I replied, trying to make my voice sound sincere, full of regret for the original owner. This guy not believing me was a fate worse than a few rough nights.
"So, another Jamie got into this Jamie's body," he summarized, his words slow as he processed the information. Then, his hands, which had been resting on the edge of the tub, slowly slid from my neck, down my shoulder, and settled on my waist. "Do you share the same look?"
That's it. I'm having a panic attack. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Yh, the same body," I managed to reply, my voice thin and high. "We have the same body, the same name. I think the universe is genuinely playing a horrible joke on me."
"Please… bathe," I pleaded, desperate to escape the immediate danger. "I'll wait for you at the door. When you're done, I… I can explain everything else over bedtime."
Lucien's expression tightened, the feral look softening slightly, replaced by a complex sorrow. His eyes dropped to my waist, where his large, warm hands were now resting.
"I wasn't flirty or touchy with Jamie. He complained about me being cold, about me being so abstinent even though I was bonded to him, about me being too withdrawn and not naughty enough," Lucien confessed, his voice heavy with past regret. "And I saw it as him just being a nuisance. I saw it as him talking too much, being too needy. But when I saw him flirting with others, letting them touch him, I finally understood what a fool I was." His voice trailed off, thick with remorse, as he studied my panicked expression, contrasting it with the perceived longing of the old Jamie.
"Do you know what, new Jamie," he continued, his tone hardening, sounding less like a husband and more like a possessive beast claiming his territory. "I'm going to fill you with my scent, with my marks, with my beast love, and you won't even think of looking at other beast males. They won't even dare come close."
Lucien's words sounded less like a declaration of love and more like a threat of imprisonment to me. It was more than a threat; it felt like he was killing me with words, smothering my straight, modern freedom.
I curse you, previous Jamie, for saying horrible, unloving things to Lucien and filling his senses with scary, possessive ideas!
"Ha ha ha," I tried to laugh, a shaky, nervous sound. "Since you know I'm not your Jamie, maybe you should give me some space in this world, and maybe allow me some space and priva—"
"It's been too long since I held you," Lucien interrupted, his hands slipping further around my waist, pulling my hips against his.
"Your waist is still tiny. This time, the Beast God gave me a new Jamie, and I'm not going to allow you to run down that same dark lane as the previous Jamie."
I was terrified and awkward. His hand around my waist felt strange, overwhelming. But surprisingly, much to my horror, this body was leaning forward, subtly pressing into his touch, while my logical sanity was having a full-blown panic attack.
Don't tell me this body is gay! I can't be enjoying a guy's hand around my waist!
Then, as he pulled me a little closer, I felt it. That unmistakable, hard bulge down there, immense and ready. It was so big that I almost jerked away from him as if I'd been scalded by boiling water.
"No… no… no. This can't be happening. I'm going to lose my mind," I whispered, my voice frantic.
"I'm still new to this, Lucien. Give me space. I need time to adjust to… this," I tried to voice out my inner thoughts, my desperate plea for boundaries.
To my complete shock, Lucien instantly backed off. It was as if the clinging, possessive guy wasn't him at all. His expression turned cold and guarded once more. He respected the boundary, but the sudden coldness was equally unsettling.
Wanting to finish this bathing ritual immediately, I grabbed his sponge and the soap. Everyone has a different sponge; sharing sponges wasn't hygienic.
I frothed the sponge, working the soap until it was completely lathering, and then I set to work. I began to scrub his back, moving to his shoulders. His body was incredibly strong, heavily muscled, and well-built. I couldn't imagine him towering over my slender, slim body in any intimate context; it would be an absolute disaster.
As I scrubbed, I explained the process and the importance of thorough washing to Lucien. This was strictly a lesson so I wouldn't be scrubbing someone else next time. I scrubbed his body down to his torso, but that was my absolute limit. I couldn't dare scrub any lower. I quietly gave the sponge to him.
"You scrub down to your legs," I suggested, immediately turning my back to him. I'm not washing that. This is my absolute limit.
"Turning your back to me… did no one tell you that's the most foolish act?" Lucien's voice echoed from behind me, low and dangerous.
I froze, facing away from him. I was in hot soup now, and I realized that every casual act of mine—even turning away—was being misinterpreted as a sign of attraction, an invitation for him to claim me. Looking away, all I wanted to do was bolt away and never return. I was more than afraid; I was deeply ashamed and embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I thought desperately. "For Christ's sake, I'm straight and will remain straight! Never will I bend for any guy!"
"Never say never, Host. Anything can happen. You will eat back your words in some months to come," the System's voice echoed loudly in my head, its prediction a sinister, mocking prophecy.
I straightened my shoulders, wet and trembling as I was. Now the question is: Will my determination waver? No. Absolutely not. I will survive this world as a straight man, even if it kills me—or at least, until the chocolate cake is tempting enough to risk a little fake bending.