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The threadbare blanket does nothing to shield his back from the cold. Nor does it soothe his skin from chafing and bleeding as Wen Ruohan’s forceful thrusts push him onto the cold floor. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth as he tries to arch his back up, but there’s no use: his hands are manacled above him, tethered to a wall that has mocked him for...months now.
How long he’s been imprisoned here in Wen Ruohan’s secret rooms, he doesn’t know. The Sect Leader feeds him everyday - It wouldn’t be good of our child grew malnourished, now would it? - and the child in his belly has started moving, so it must have been months since he was captured by Wen Chao and brought here. To be Wen Ruohan’s omega plaything. To bear another, better heir to the prodigious Wen patriarch.
It is only spite that keeps Jiang Cheng sane within the four corners of this room.
The filthy drag of Wen Ruohan’s cock inside him makes him choke back a pained sob. His pregnant omega body is all too used to this treatment, prepared to leak copious amounts of slick at a moment’s notice, lest he rip when the alpha’s gargantuan cock spears into him without warning. Yet the pain is still there - it’s always there - pricking stabs shooting up his spine at every harsh thrust. The monster above ruts into him with abandon, whispering obscenities into his ear as the slap of skin against slick skin reverberates around them. He tunes them out, focusing instead on that pale throat right in front of him.
If he could just pull his arms off and choke the man—-
“And if your whorish body won’t give me a strong son, then I will take your sister instead. She’s hiding in Guangshan’s estate, but I can easily—”
Jiang Cheng sees red.
Not his jiejie . Not over his dead body!
He thrashes, pulling Wen Ruohan down as he lunges up. He can’t use his legs, he can’t use his arms—-
But that neck is so close...he needs to—-
The warm splash of blood onto his face, as he bites a chunk out of Wen Ruohan’s throat, catches him by surprise.
Wen Ruohan’s soundless scream is music to his ears.
Blood gushes out between them, but none of it is Jiang Cheng’s. The older man tries to stand, but it only makes more blood surge out of the large wound. Then he tries to stop it, desperately squeezing the wound closed with his hand, to no avail. He only grows paler, losing life-giving blood by the second, and from the fear in his eyes, Jiang Cheng already knows—
This is where Wen Ruohan will meet his end.
When the lifeless body falls, Jiang Cheng shifts himself away from it, kicking it off and letting it roll on the pool of blood growing beneath them. The boogeyman is gone, lifeless eyes staring down at the bloody ground. Wen Ruohan is finally dead.
Jiang Cheng will probably die too.
The chains are too strong, the manacles too tight. What little warmth Wen Ruohan’s blood gave him has quickly turned cold. Nobody knows these rooms - no one else other than the monster had ever entered these rooms.
No one will find him.
This time, he cries.
He cries for his jiejie, who will finally be safe, at least from this man. He cries for Wei Wuxian, who he trusts to protect her and to do the impossible, to resurrect his sect. He cries for his parents, who didn’t deserve a pitiful son like him.
He cries for the child inside him, no matter its sire. It is still a Jiang, after all. It will never have the chance to be born.