Page 30 of Sinful Obsession

The words send a chill through me. I want to deny them, to cling to the fragile reality I’ve been holding onto, but deep down, I know he’s right. There’s something inside me, something that’s been awakening since I came to Briarwood.

Asmodeus steps closer, before leaning down, his hand brushing my cheek as he whispers, “You feel it, don’t you? The truth. You were made for this.”

I can’t speak. My throat is dry, my mind spinning, but I don’t pull away. The horsemen remain silent as Asmodeus straightens, his gaze sweeping over them with something almost like approval.

“You’re meant for great things,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “When the time comes, you’ll see where you truly belong.”

The portal.

The second crack is there, a jagged line that promises the beginning of the end.

24 – Vito

There’s an edge to the morning, a tension that sits heavy in the air. I can feel it pressing down on me as I move through the hallways, my steps silent against the tiled floors. This place is a cage, a maze of despair and control, but today, I’m not here to be contained. I’m here to loosen the bars, even just a little.

Manipulation has always been my strength. It’s in my blood, my nature as Conquest. People think conquest is about brute force, about domination through strength alone. They’re wrong. It’s subtle. It’s the art of making someone believe my truth is their truth, planting seeds of doubt and trust in equal measure until they move the way I want them to.

The orderlies are no exception. They patrol these hallways from the shadows, watching,waiting. They’re not human, not fully, though they wear the shape of it well. It’s the way they move—too fluid, too graceful—that gives them away. Angels in disguise, keeping us in line, keepingherin line. I’m not sure how? I didn’t pick it up sooner.

I catch sight of two of them lingering at the end of the hallway. They’re murmuring to each other in low tones, their voices too soft for human ears to pick up. I don’t need to hear them to know what they’re saying.

I approach slowly, my posture relaxed, non-threatening. They glance at me as I draw near, their expressions unreadable, but I meet their gazes with a smile meant to disarm.

“Morning,” I say casually, keeping my tone as friendly as possible.

They tense but quickly relax, trying not to show their fear.Typical.I lean against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest as I let the silence continue, giving them time to feel the weight of my presence.

“I wanted to mention something. About this hallway. It’s been quiet, hasn’t it? No issues, no disturbances.”

One of them, the man with sharp features and eyes too bright to be natural, tilts his head slightly. “And?”

I shrug. “Just thinking you could probably skip it for a few days. Focus on the other wings. This section doesn’t need constant monitoring. We’re not exactly the rowdy type.”

The other orderly, a woman with the same unnatural eyes, frowns. “You’re suggesting we abandon protocol?”

“Not abandon,” I correct, my smile widening. “Just… reprioritize. You’re stretched thin as it is, right? Wouldn’t hurt to ease the workload.”

They hesitate, exchanging another glance. The doubt so easily creeps in, the flicker of consideration. It’s enough. I nod to myself and push off the wall, leaving them with a parting grin.

“Think about it,” I say as I walk away, keeping my pace slow and unhurried.

I don’t look back, but I can feel their eyes on me. The seed is planted. It won’t take root immediately, but it doesn’t have to.All I need is a few cracks in their vigilance, just enough to give us a chance to get to the door again.

By the time I return to the room, the sunlight is creeping through the one grimy window. The others are stirring, the air heavy with their shared presence. Asmodeus is already gone, his absence a gaping void that somehow feels just as suffocating as his presence.

Nevan is curled around Vienna on the bed, his long frame tangled with hers as he works to counteract the effects of the medication they dose her with every night. She looks pale, almost fragile, but her breathing is steady, and there’s a flicker of determination in her half-lidded eyes as she wakes up.

“We need to move,” I say, my voice cutting through the stillness. “We need to get to the door before breakfast.”

Vienna sits up slowly, rubbing at her eyes. Her movements are sluggish, but she doesn’t argue. She gets to her feet, swaying slightly before Nevan steadies her with a hand on her arm. The others grumble as they pull themselves together, half-dressed in their white scrubs, but they follow without question.

The hallway leading to the forbidden door is silent, the orderlies absent. Just as I hoped. When we reach the door, my stomach drops. It’s already open.

The crack of light spilling through the doorway feels wrong, unnatural even. It’s not the same darkness that Asmodeus exudes, a mixture of red and white hues that don’t make sense. Vienna leans against my side, her confusion growing as is the rest of ours.

Before any of us can move, voices drift through the doorway. Familiar voices.

“… becoming too dangerous,” Raphael says, his words clipped by annoyance. “There are already two cracks and they’re widening.”

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