In the Lion's den

The night air was thick with tension as I stepped onto Damien’s territory. The moment my foot crossed the invisible threshold, I knew I was being watched.

I kept my steps steady, my breathing even, even though my instincts screamed at me to be on guard. This was no longer my land. I didn’t belong here, and every shadow, every whisper of wind through the trees, reminded me of that.

Before I reached the massive iron gates, two figures stepped forward from the darkness. They moved with the silent grace of predators, their eyes sharp and assessing as they blocked my path.

“Stop,” one of them commanded. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with short-cropped dark hair and an expression carved from stone. His companion, leaner but no less dangerous, flanked him, fingers twitching near the hilt of a blade strapped to his thigh.

“Lyra Callahan.” The taller one said my name like he already knew exactly who I was and why I was here. “You left. Now you’re back. Why?”

I squared my shoulders. “Damien is expecting me.”

His gaze flickered over me, assessing. “We’ll see about that.” Then, with a sharp nod to his companion, he said, “Check her.”

I didn’t resist as the leaner one stepped forward, his touch impersonal as he patted me down, searching for weapons. My pulse quickened when his hand hesitated near my thigh, but all he found was the hidden knife strapped there.

He pulled it free and held it up with a raised brow. “Planning on stabbing anyone?”

I met his gaze, unwavering. “Not unless I have to.”

His lips quirked, the barest hint of amusement before he stepped back. “She’s clean. Just the blade.”

The taller one studied me for a moment longer before nodding. “You can go in.”

The gates groaned open, revealing the dark, looming silhouette of Damien’s estate. It was just as imposing as before—ancient stone, towering spires, and an air of something both regal and dangerous.

I stepped inside, and the gates clanked shut behind me, sealing my fate.

The guards led me through winding hallways, their footsteps silent against the polished stone floor. The deeper we went, the colder it felt, the air thick with an energy I couldn’t quite name.

Finally, they stopped before a set of massive double doors. One of them pushed it open, and I was met with the sight of Damien Thorne.

He stood at the far end of the room, his posture as relaxed as it was commanding. He was dressed in all black, the flickering candlelight casting sharp shadows across his impossibly sharp features.

His gaze lifted the moment I stepped inside, those piercing eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“You came back,” he said, amusement lacing his tone. “Smart girl.”

I lifted my chin, ignoring the way my heart slammed against my ribs. “I keep my word.”

“Good,” he murmured, stepping forward, his movements fluid and effortless. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d run.”

I scoffed. “And break a deal with you? Pretty sure that would’ve ended badly for me.”

His lips twitched, as if he found that amusing. “You’re not as foolish as I thought.” He turned slightly, gesturing toward the guards. “Leave us.”

The two men gave a short nod before disappearing through the door, sealing it behind them.

The room fell into silence.

Damien studied me for a moment before tilting his head. “How is your brother?”

The question caught me off guard.

I had expected indifference. Maybe even some smug reminder that Jason’s survival was solely because of him. But there was something unreadable in his expression, something that almost resembled… curiosity.

“He’s alive,” I said carefully. “Stronger already.”

Damien hummed, pacing around me in slow, measured steps. The way he moved—it was as if he wasn’t even touching the ground, his presence more like a shadow than a man.

“And now,” he murmured, circling me like a predator playing with its food, “you’re mine.”

A chill rippled through me, but I forced myself to stay still. “For a year,” I corrected, my voice steady. “That was the deal.”

His lips curved slightly, as if my defiance amused him. “Indeed.”

I swallowed hard. “What exactly does that mean?”

Damien stopped in front of me, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light. “It means you’ll do as I say. No questions. No hesitation.”

I set my jaw. “And if I don’t?”

His expression didn’t change, but the air in the room did—something unseen pressing against my skin, heavy and suffocating.

“Then you’ll regret it.” His voice was silk and steel, a quiet promise of consequences.

I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms.

He was testing me. Watching for cracks.

So I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Fine. Where do we start?”

Damien’s smirk deepened.

“Oh, Lyra,” he murmured, stepping closer, so close I could feel the unnatural cold radiating off of him. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

And somehow, I knew—whatever I had just signed myself up for, this was only the beginning.