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The room they gave her was beautiful. Too beautiful.
A soft bed with velvet sheets. A carved mirror that reflected more questions than answers. Candles flickered quietly in crystal holders, and fresh flowers—roses, again—sat in a vase by the window.
But she couldn't breathe.
Not with that painting burned into her memory.
She sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling slightly as she reached beneath her bodice and pulled out the letter. Liam's handwriting stared back at her, rushed and smudged.
> "They'll hurt you if you trust them. The man with the red eyes isn't who he seems. Find a way out. I'll come for you."
She swallowed hard. Her fingers crumpled the edge of the parchment.
But Darius hadn't hurt her.
He'd bought her. Protected her. Punished those who dared touch her. He could've taken everything from her already—but he hadn't.
Still... his eyes.
That moment in the hall, when he'd looked at her, and the crimson had bled into the silver—it hadn't felt like desire. It had felt like hunger. Controlled, but not gone.
And that portrait. The girl. Why did she look so familiar?
Elena stood, crossing the room slowly. The window opened onto the east courtyard, where moonlight draped the stone pathways like silk. Somewhere out there, she imagined Liam still running, still trying to save her.
But what if she didn't need saving?
What if the man who'd bought her had once—long ago—saved her already?
Her chest tightened.
"I don't belong here," she whispered. "But I don't know where I do."
Behind her, the wind stirred the curtains, soft and cold. A whisper seemed to echo through the stone.
She turned quickly.
But no one was there.
Only shadows.
And the feeling… that someone was watching.
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Chapter Sixteen: The Key
The firelight danced across the ancient walls of the study, casting long shadows as Darius stood by the window, his jaw clenched tight.
Lucan entered, voice sharp with unspoken tension.
"Why bring her back now?"
Darius didn't move. "It wasn't a choice."
Lucan stepped closer, his tone lower, more grave. "I knew she looked familiar."
Darius finally glanced over his shoulder, his silver eyes darkening at the edges.
"If she's truly the key," Lucan continued, "then she's not just a girl. She's a threat. You saw what happened last time… we all did. The blood. The collapse. The power she unleashed."
Darius's silence said enough.
"You shouldn't be this close to her," Lucan warned. "She doesn't even know what she is yet. Doesn't remember anything."
"I know," Darius said quietly. "But she will."
Lucan took a step forward, voice now a whisper of caution.
"And when she does?"
Darius finally turned, eyes locking with his second-in-command.
"Only time will tell."
Lucan shook his head. "You're gambling too much."
Darius's voice dropped, cold and commanding.
"As for now—we keep her. No one touches her. No one influences her. We didn't have the chance to understand her last time…" His eyes flashed with purpose. "This time, we will."
Lucan hesitated, the flicker of fear barely hidden in his eyes. "And if she remembers everything too soon?"
Darius's gaze returned to the window, distant but resolute.
"Then may the gods have mercy on us all."
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