“Get dressed,” I interrupted, and tossed a simple robe at her. “You have one minute.”

Confusion mingled with fear in her eyes, quickly replaced by defiance. “It’s the middle of the night. Whatever game you’re playing?—”

“Fifty seconds.” I turned my back to her. “Or I’ll drag you there in whatever you’re wearing. Your choice.”

Rustling came from behind me, the sound of her rising and hurriedly slipping on the robe.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, her tone steadier than I’d expected.

I didn’t answer, simply grasping her arm with deliberate force. My shadows extended, forming dark restraints around her wrists, tight enough to leave bruises by morning.

“You’ll see.”

I pulled her from the room, moving swiftly through empty corridors and down stairways rarely used by anyone but servants. Down and down we went, the air growing cooler, the stone walls more ancient. The old dungeons lay beneath the foundation of the mansion, remnants of a darker time when my ancestors had been less subtle in their cruelties.

“The dungeons?” Ada said, the first hint of genuine fear coloring her words. “What do you intend? To torture me for attempting escape?”

I pushed open an iron door, revealing a chamber lit only by a single brazier. No implements of torture lined the walls—I wasn’t quite that medieval—but the room retained an atmosphere of dread, of suffering endured and witnessed.

“Sit.” I released her arm and pointed to a stone bench against the wall.

She didn’t move. “I’ll stand.”

I stepped closer until she had to tilt her head to maintain eye contact. Her scent was driving me crazy as I focused my gaze to her lips. She was beautiful when she was furious.

"You tried to run from me. You broke our agreement. You allowed that mangy guardian of yours to attack me." Each accusation fell between us with heavy finality. "Did you think there would be no consequences?"

“I think,” she replied with remarkable calm, “that you’ll do whatever you want regardless of my actions. You always have.”

I circled her slowly, allowing my shadows to brush against her skin—a reminder of my power, of my ability to touch her whether she wished it or not. The darkness shifted instinctively, responding to my emotional state rather than conscious command. Yet even as I moved with fluid menace, something deep within me recoiled. The shadows that had poisoned my soul for five years whispered that this was necessary, that breaking her would bring me peace—but the recovered fragments of my true self screamed in protest at what I was about to do.

"Tell me what you're hiding," I said, my tone deadly soft. The words felt foreign on my tongue, as if the darkness within me was speaking through me. Years of cultivated cruelty pushed me forward, insisting that Ada's secrets were threats to be eliminated, but my recovered memories whispered that this woman had once been my salvation, not my enemy.

She blinked, genuine confusion crossing her features. “What?”

“The secret you’re protecting,” I continued, shadows darkening around us. “The reason you’re so desperate to escapeme. What you’re guarding so fiercely that you’d endure anything to keep it safe.”

“You think I’m hiding something.” Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by something that looked almost like bitter amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” The admission escaped before I could stop it, raw and desperate. “But I can feel it through our bond. Something precious. Something worth more to you than your own life. And I need to know what it is.”

“Is that what this is about?” She studied my face. “Your need to control every aspect of my life?”

“Answer the question,” I demanded, and stepped closer. “Tell me what secret is worth such suffering, and perhaps I’ll be merciful.”

Her jaw tightened. “There’s nothing.”

“Lies.” I moved behind her, my mouth close to her ear. “I can feel it through our bond—something you’re protecting, something you fear I’ll discover. Something you love more than your own safety.”

She stiffened but said nothing, though goosebumps rose on her exposed neck.

“Very well,” I sighed, as if disappointed. “We’ll do this the hard way.”

I guided her firmly to the stone bench, ensuring she was seated before I raised my hand to hover just above her chest, where our binding mark pulsed beneath her robe. The shadows around my fingers elongated, sharpening into deadly points.

“This will hurt,” I warned her, pushing emotions away. “How much depends entirely on your cooperation.”

Fear flashed across her face before she mastered it. “Do what you will. I have nothing to tell you.”