All Chapters of The Devil's Broken Doll: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

(Adelaide)The next time she heard the footsteps, she was ready.If you could ever be ready for anything in Hell. The air itself felt coiled, hot and waiting, like the breath before a lightning strike that never quite hit.Adelaide sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet planted on the warm stone, fingers twisted in the makeshift dress she’d fashioned from one of the silk sheets. It wasn’t much—no seams, no proper ties—just a long length of dark fabric wrapped, twisted, and knotted over one shoulder, pinned in place with a bit of metal she’d pried off the bedframe.But it was hers. Not his fur. Not his choice.The fabric slid cool and heavy over her skin, whispering around her thighs when she shifted. Every time it clung, she reminded herself: You did this. You are not helpless. The small ache in her shoulders from wrestling with the sheet all morning felt like proof; her fingers still tingled from knotting, tearing, forcing the fabric to obey her instead of the other way around.She’d

(Adelaide)Almost a smile. Almost.“What do you propose?” Cael asked.“You said he’d be furious if he found you here,” she said. “If you help me—bring me clothes that aren’t made out of his fur, tell me what’s happening out there, warn me if he… changes again—I won’t tell him about you.”“You think he doesn’t already know?” Cael asked quietly.The question stiffened every muscle in her body.“Does he?” she asked, voice small.Cael’s gaze softened by a fraction. “No,” he said. “Not yet. He has been… occupied.”She hated how relief made her knees weak. Heat rushed to her face, ashamed of how much she cared whether the Devil’s attention was on her or not.“Then we understand each other,” she said quickly, covering it with sarcasm. “I keep your little rebellion a secret. In return, you make sure I don’t go insane staring at the same four walls.”“And if I refuse?” Cael asked.She bared her teeth in something that wasn’t a smile. “Then you wasted your first illegal visit,” she said. “And I

(Apollo)“Tell me,” he snarled, taking a step toward her, “who touched you?”“No one,” she whispered through tears. “No one, I swear—I don't—”Her voice was too small. Too soft. Too frightened.The wrong emotion. She should fear him—yes. But she should not feel hope for another.He reached her in three huge steps.His clawed hand slammed into the wall beside her head, cracking stone and sending chips scattering across her hair. The impact shook dust from the ceiling; a spiderweb of glowing fractures raced out under his palm, framing her face in fissures of light.She yelped, squeezing her eyes shut.“Tell me,” he growled, leaning down, horns casting monstrous shadows across her body. “Tell me who was in this room.”She shook her head so fast he thought she’d break her own neck.“I don’t know—I don’t—there was no one—”“LOOK at me.”She shook her head, frantic. He grabbed her chin—not gently—and forced her gaze upward.Her pupils were blown wide with panic. Her pulse jumped wildly at h

(Apollo & Adelaide)“But pleasure will eat you alive.” Apollo whispered.He watched the way the words hit—like a slap, like a spark, like a prophecy. They lodged in the bond, echoing back at both of them as if the magic itself were memorising the threat.“You can’t make me enjoy this,” she whispered, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her own doubt.He bared his teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile.“Little Flame,” he murmured, “I already did.”Her breath stuttered.Apollo lifted his free hand and gestured lazily through the air.The mark on his arm flared.She cried out—the reaction instantaneous, her back arching against the cross as if a jolt of heat had shot through her veins. Her nipples tightened visibly, her skin flushing from clavicle to stomach in a rush of colour. Her toes curled, digging at nothing, as a phantom pressure bloomed between her thighs like fingers closing around a wound she didn’t remember getting.“What—what did you—” She panted, swallowing hard.

(Apollo & Adelaide) By the time he pulled the cup away, her head spun less. The world sharpened. A faint pulse tugged at her chest—the bond—like a thread drawn taut between them. His pupils flickered, and she knew he felt it too. Felt her. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He looked away for a single heartbeat—just long enough for her to realise it cost him something to do it. The awareness of her body answered his. Heat pooled low in her stomach, traitorous and electric. Her breath came too fast. She hated him. She hated that her body leaned into every command, every touch, every cruel kindness he fed her like poison. Her skin prickled under the weight of his attention, painfully conscious of every inch left exposed to the heated air, which was all of it. The chamber’s warmth licked over her like a slow, invisible tongue, finding every vulnerable place his gaze lingered. She forced herself to look down, as if she needed the brutal reminder: wrists spread wide above her, ankles bound to