The castle loomed ahead, its shadow swallowing the horizon as the car came to a smooth stop before the grand entrance. The towering doors creaked open as if the castle itself had drawn a sharp breath in anticipation, the guards stationed by the entrance standing unnaturally still, their faces emotionless masks. The oppressive chill of the night clung to Eira as she stepped out of the car, her knees unsteady and her pulse thrumming in her ears.
She barely noticed the muted sounds of the castle waking to their arrival—the faint shuffle of servants, the whisper of the wind through the high towers. Her body moved on instinct, guiding her toward the familiar path to her quarters, the space she had fiercely clung to as her own.
But a single voice stopped her cold.
"Where are you going, Eira?"
Caius's voice cut through the stillness like a blade, sharp and unyielding, pulling her back to reality.
She froze, her shoulders stiffening as she turned to face him. He stood just behind her, his tall frame illuminated by the golden light spilling from the castle's entrance. His coat was still unbuttoned from the ride, revealing the dark, tailored shirt beneath, but his eyes—those predatory golden eyes—were the most arresting part of him. They burned with something unreadable.
"To my quarters," she said evenly, though her voice felt taut, strained. "It's been a long day."
For a moment, Caius simply regarded her, his expression unreadable. Then, his lips curved into a faint, predatory smile that sent a shiver down her spine.
"No, my little lamb," he said softly, his tone laced with quiet authority that sent her pulse racing. He stepped toward her, his movements deliberate, as if he were closing in on prey. "I told you there would be consequences."
Her stomach tightened, but she lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed. "What are you talking about?"
Caius stopped in front of her, close enough that she could feel the faint chill radiating from him. His smile didn't waver, but his gaze hardened, the edges of his composure sharp and unrelenting.
"Your quarters no longer exist," he said, his voice low, deliberate. Each word landed like a stone. "All your belongings have been moved to mine. If you can't be trusted to obey, then you'll stay where I can keep an eye on you."
She stared at him, the weight of his declaration sinking in. Eira's breath hitched as the implications twisted in her mind. She wanted to be angry—she was angry—but tangled beneath the fury was something she didn't want to name.
Her gaze flickered to Caius's unbuttoned coat, the faint dip of his collar revealing a sharp line of muscle and skin. Heat rose unbidden to her cheeks, and she clenched her fists tighter. Why did he have to look so damn composed? Why did his presence make her feel like every step she took was leading her closer to the edge of a cliff?
It wasn't just his control that unnerved her—it was the bond. The pulsing awareness of him that seemed to amplify every thought, every breath. Was this pull even real? Could she trust her own emotions, or was the bond warping her feelings, magnifying something that wasn't hers to begin with?
She swallowed hard, her chest tightening as the questions clawed at her. Did she want him because of the bond? Or because—gods help me—she truly wanted him?
"You can't just decide that," she said, her voice rising slightly. "You don't control—"
"I can," Caius interrupted smoothly, his tone as cold as steel. "And I already have."
Eira's fists clenched at her sides, her nails biting into her palms. She took a step back, her chest tight with frustration and anger. "This is ridiculous. You can't expect me to just—"
"I expect you to understand," Caius cut her off again, his voice softening in a way that only made her pulse quicken. "You brought this on yourself, Eira. You chose defiance. These are the consequences."
Her breath came faster now, each inhale filled with frustration and disbelief. "You think moving me into your quarters is a punishment?" she shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "You're just trying to control me, to keep me under your thumb."
Caius took another step closer, his presence overwhelming as he looked down at her. The faint glow of the castle's light played across his features, casting shadows that made him seem even more imposing.
"I told you from the beginning," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You belong with me. Always. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you stay safe. Even if you hate me for it."
The intensity of his gaze sent a chill down her spine, but she refused to back down. "I don't need you to keep me safe," she bit out, her voice shaking.
His expression darkened, his golden eyes narrowing. "That's where you're wrong, little lamb," he said, his tone quiet but unyielding. "You need me more than you think. And whether you want to admit it or not, I'm the only reason you're still alive."
Eira's chest tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came.
Caius leaned closer, his voice softening but losing none of its edge. "Consider this your first lesson," he murmured, his golden eyes locking onto hers with unrelenting intensity. "There's no escape from this bond, Eira. You belong to me. Don't forget that."
His words sent a shiver racing through her, her anger and fear swirling together in a tangled storm. She hated how his voice made her chest ache, how the weight of his presence felt both oppressive and magnetic.
He stepped back, gesturing toward the grand staircase that loomed ahead. "Now," he said, his tone shifting to cool command. "Go."
The challenge hung between them, and for a moment, Eira stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind screamed at her to turn, to walk away, to push back against his control. But the bond between them pulsed faintly, a silent reminder of the power he held over her.
With a sharp inhale, she turned and began ascending the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. Her head was high, her shoulders square, but inside, her chest burned with frustration and helplessness.
Caius followed behind her, his footsteps slow and deliberate, the weight of his presence trailing her every step. She didn't dare glance back, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into her, a constant reminder of the control he wielded so effortlessly.
When they reached the landing, she hesitated, her hand brushing the ornate banister. Her throat tightened as she stared at the familiar hall leading to what had once been her sanctuary.
But Caius's voice stopped her again. "This way," he said, his tone brooking no argument.
He opened the door to his quarters, the warm light spilling into the hall. She stepped inside reluctantly, her gaze sweeping over the room that was now unmistakably theirs. Her belongings were already neatly arranged—her books stacked on a nearby table, her sketches leaning against the far wall, her clothes hanging beside his in the grand wardrobe.
The sight of it all made her chest ache with the finality of what she'd lost.
Her fingers brushed the edge of the wardrobe, its cold metal handles mocking her. This wasn't just a room; it was a claim. Every detail screamed of Caius's world—the dark wood furniture, the faint scent of him lingering in the air, the way her belongings had been neatly folded into spaces that weren't hers to begin with.
And the bed. Gods, the bed.
Her pulse quickened as she turned toward it, its expanse a silent reminder that there was no line she could draw, no boundary he hadn't already crossed. How was she supposed to share this space with him when every breath in his presence felt like a battle she wasn't prepared to fight?
Her hands shook as she gripped the back of a chair for support, her thoughts spiraling. She couldn't ignore the way his presence had begun to seep into every corner of her mind, the way her chest tightened when he stepped too close. Was it the bond? Or was it her?
The thought sent a fresh wave of heat to her face, her stomach twisting with shame and confusion. She hated him. She wanted to hate him. But there were moments—brief, fleeting moments—when the hatred gave way to something else. Something darker.
And now, there would be no distance to protect her from it.
Eira's gaze darted around the room, desperate for an alternative. Her eyes lingered on the high-backed armchair in the corner by the fireplace. Too small. Her heart sank further as she turned toward the adjacent room, her mind clinging to the possibility of an adjoining space, a sanctuary she hadn't noticed. But when she stepped forward to test the door, her hope crumbled—it led to a grand bathroom, its marble tiles gleaming under the soft glow of the sconces.
No couch. No second bed. No escape.
Eira's hands trembled as she turned back to face the room that was now undeniably theirs. The bed—wide and inviting—stood like a taunt, a silent declaration of her new reality.
Her pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. How could she sleep here, knowing he was only inches away? The thought of his presence, of his overwhelming closeness, made her stomach churn. Every trace of her life—her independence—had been absorbed into his world, leaving no space for the Eira she used to be. Even the small trinkets she'd clung to were here, as if mocking her with the reminder that she had no refuge left.
She stared at the massive bed as if it were a guillotine, its dark, polished frame gleaming under the warm light. The soft click of the lock as Caius closed the door behind him sounded louder than it should have, like a signal that her choices had narrowed to nothing.
"This isn't fair," she whispered, her voice trembling as her thoughts spiraled. Her gaze flicked back to the door, but she knew it wouldn't open for her. Not tonight.
"Life rarely is," he said, his tone softened but unyielding. His golden eyes met hers as he stepped closer, his presence as commanding as ever. "You've made your choices, Eira. Now, you'll live with mine."
Her breath hitched, the words digging into her like barbs. She gestured toward the bed, her voice cracking as she tried to push back. "There's only one bed, Caius. I can't—"
"You can," he interrupted smoothly, his voice deliberate, cutting through her panic like a blade. "And you will."
The words lingered in the air, suffocating, as if they had sucked all the oxygen from the room.
Eira clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. She hated how small she felt under his gaze, how the bond between them pulsed faintly, a tether she couldn't escape.
Caius stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "But this," he said, his words brushing against her frayed nerves, "is only the beginning, my little lamb. And I always keep my promises."
The tension between them hung heavy, like a thundercloud ready to burst.
Eira's thoughts swirled in a panicked haze. The room seemed to close in around her, her chest rising and falling with each shaky breath as she stared at him. He was too close, his presence too consuming. Every inch of the space now bore his mark.
Worse, she couldn't shake the chilling truth that a part of her wasn't sure she wanted to fight anymore.
Eira lingered near the edge of the room, her hands trembling as she stared at the bed. She could feel Caius's gaze on her, unyielding and all-consuming, as if he were daring her to challenge him.
"I'm sleeping on the chaise," she said abruptly, her voice sharp with forced determination.
Caius's chuckle was soft but biting, the sound like silk over steel. "You'll do no such thing."
Her jaw tightened, but she refused to look at him. "I'll manage."
"Eira," he said, her name low and deliberate. "The bed is large enough for two. There's no reason for theatrics."
She whirled to face him, her frustration flaring. "No reason?" she snapped. "You've taken everything—my home, my choices, my life. Forgive me if I don't want to share a bed with the man who—"
"Who what?" he interrupted, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Who saved your brother? Who keeps you alive? Who feels every damned second of this bond just as sharply as you do?"
Her breath caught as he closed the distance between them, his golden eyes burning into hers. The intensity of his words left her momentarily speechless, her chest tightening as the truth settled over her. He wasn't unaffected by this—by her.
Caius gestured toward the bed, his expression softening just enough to unnerve her. "You can fight this all you want, little lamb," he said, his voice low but firm. "But you'll still end up here. With me."
Eira hesitated, her pulse roaring in her ears. She hated how his presence seemed to pull at her, how every word made her feel like she was losing ground. But she was too tired to fight—too exhausted from the weight of everything she'd lost.
Without another word, she moved toward the bed, her movements stiff and reluctant. She climbed onto one side, her back rigid as she pressed herself as far from the center as possible.
For a moment, she thought he might let her have this small space, this fragile illusion of control. But then she felt the mattress shift beneath his weight, his presence an unyielding force as he settled beside her.
Eira tensed as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her effortlessly against him. Her breath hitched, her body going rigid as the warmth of his skin pressed against hers, the closeness sending a jolt of panic through her.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, her voice sharp with tension.
Caius's lips brushed against her hair, his voice calm but unrelenting. "Making sure you don't run," he murmured.
She swallowed hard, her heart pounding as she stared into the darkness, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions. The bond pulsed faintly between them, a constant reminder of their connection.
As the room fell into silence, Eira closed her eyes, her body trembling against his. She hated the vulnerability of this moment—the way it left her exposed to everything she was trying to deny. But as his arm tightened around her, grounding her in a way she didn't want to admit, she couldn't bring herself to pull away.