Chapter 3

By the time the burial ended, the compound no longer felt heavy with grief.

It felt empty and quiet.

People began to leave slowly, their conversations quieter now, their movements more relaxed, like whatever they had come for was already done.

The tension that had filled the air earlier didn’t disappear completely. It just settled into something colder.

I stood there for a moment, my eyes scanning the space without really thinking about it. Then I turned to look at Marcus but he wasn’t beside me.

My chest tightened slightly as I turned, searching through the retreating crowd. He had been there just a few minutes ago, close enough that I could feel his presence.

Now he wasn't here. Where would he have gone?

A strange feeling settled low in my stomach. It was not panic. I just didn't want anything to happen to him.

I moved slowly at first, stepping away from the grave, my eyes adjusting to the dimming light as evening crept in. The compound grew quieter with every passing second.

“Marcus?” I called softly, but my voice wasn't loud. There was no response. My steps quickened. It wasn’t like him to just disappear. And I didn't want him to—not in a place like this.

A thought slipped into my mind before I could stop it. Raze. My jaw tightened. No.

He wouldn’t, …would he?

The possibility was enough to push me forward, deeper into the compound, past familiar hallways and corners that still felt too easy to navigate. Muscle memory. Instinct.

I didn’t realize how far I had gone until a hand suddenly grabbed my arm.

Before I could react, I was yanked backward, my body colliding with something solid as a door slammed shut behind me with a dull, final sound.

The room was a bit dark, save for the light that illuminated from the barely closed curtains. My heart slammed against my ribs as I pushed against the force holding me.

“Raze—”

The name barely left my lips before his hand was on me again, stronger this time, pinning me firmly against the door.

The words in my throat died as Raze’s hand fisted in my hair. He yanked my head back with a sharp, familiar cruelty that forced my gaze upward, pinning me against the cold wood of the study door.

“Let go of me, Raze. What the hell are you doing?” I asked, struggling to free myself. My hands shook as he pinned them up with one hand.

“Where is he, Raze? What did you do to him?” I hissed, but the question died in my throat as he moved closer until there was no space between us.

He didn't bother with words. He reached down, his fingers bunching the silk of my funeral skirt and dragging it upward until the cool air hit my thighs.

My breath hitched as he hooked his thumb into the lace of my panties, yanking them aside with a proprietary roughness. He didn't ask, he never did, he just took just like he had taken me before.

“You've been a very bad girl, princess,” he said, tracing lines against my clit. I bit back a moan that threatened to spill from my mouth. I couldn't give him the satisfaction.

“Tell me, that dimwit, is he good in bed? Does he make you cum with just his fingers or do you have to think about me before you cum when he fucks you?”

My breath hitched. How—how did he know?

He must have seen the question on my face because that stupid, annoying smirk of his appeared on his face. “So you have been thinking of me while he fucks you?”

I turned my face away, not bothering to answer him. Then, two of his thick fingers dove inside me, stretching me in a way that made my vision swim.

At the same time, his thumb found my clit, pinning it with a heavy, rhythmic pressure that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core.

“Repeat what you said earlier,” he growled, his voice a low vibration against my skin. “Who is he, Nyra? Tell me again who that weak-looking bastard is.”

“It’s none... of your business, Raze. Please…stop…” I gasped, my head thumping back against the door as he increased the pace.

Raze leaned in, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that tasted of salt and possessiveness. It wasn't a request but a reclamation.

While his tongue invaded my mouth, his fingers worked relentlessly inside me, and his hand tightened in my hair, pulling just enough to keep me arched perfectly against his hand.

“1,095 days,” he muttered into the kiss, his voice jagged. “I waited 1,095 days for you to come home, and you dare walk back here with another man’s ring on your finger?”

“Raze, stop... this is wrong,” I moaned into his mouth. My body was a traitor, my pussy walls already slick and pulsing around his fingers.“We’re childhood friends... sworn siblings...”

“Siblings don't do this,” he mocked, his thumb grinding harder against my center until I was shaking. “I fucked you first, Nyra. Siblings don't own each other’s souls. Friends don't make you scream like I do. I asked before and I'll ask again. Does he even know how to touch you, Nyra? Does he make you wet just by looking at him? Does he know you like restraints and spanks or does he fuck you like a gentleman? Does that pathetic excuse of a man satisfy you?”

I hated that I couldn't answer. I hated that even as I thought of Magnus, my body was convulsing with need under Raze’s touch. My moans turned into broken, jagged sounds as he drove his fingers deeper, his thumb never leaving my clit until I was sobbing against his lips

“Raze, please…” I moaned, my back aching as I felt my orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. I clamped my hand over my mouth to suppress my scream.

Raze finally pulled back and stuck those fingers inside his mouth as he groaned. “Still so fucking sweet. Look at you preaching to me and yet, you still came just from me fucking you with my fingers. This proves it, Nyra,”

He moved closer again and tilted my chin until I was staring at him. “You still belong to me. Whether you like it or not.”

Anger and shame flared inside me, sharp and immediate. “I don’t belong to you.”

His eyes darkened. “Say that again.”

“I don’t belong to you,” I repeated, louder this time, forcing strength into every word.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension between us stretched, thick and suffocating, until it felt like something would snap.

And then, his grip loosened slightly. And it was enough to make me step away.

I didn’t wait for him to change his mind. I straightened my skirt and arranged my hair as best as I could and he just watched me.

When I was done, I pushed past him and reached for the door, my fingers trembling just enough to annoy me.

The handle turned.

Cool air hit my face as I stepped out into the hallway, my heart still racing as I forced myself to keep walking away from him and away from whatever that had been.

“Nyra.” It was Marcus. I stopped immediately, turning toward his voice. He was walking toward me from the far end of the corridor, his expression calm.

Relief hit me immediately. “Where were you?” I asked, stepping toward him. “I was looking for you.”

He smiled faintly. “I stepped out for a bit. I needed some air.”

Something about the answer felt off. But I didn’t push it. The good thing was that he was safe and he was here. “I was worried,” I admitted.

His gaze softened as he reached for my hand. “I’m fine.”

I nodded, letting him lead me back toward my room.

Inside, I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind still occupied from thoughts of Raze. Then, I looked up at the man I wanted to marry. He was nothing like Raze at all.

I watched him as he moved, slow and composed, pouring a drink like nothing had happened, like this was just another normal night.

“Nyra,” he said gently, handing me the glass. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now.”

I looked at him, confused. He smiled again. “About your past. About your father. I know it’s not simple.”

A small part of me relaxed. He wasn’t pushing and he wasn’t demanding answers. “I will,” I said quietly. “Just not tonight.”

“Take your time,” he replied.

Gratitude flickered through me, followed quickly by something else. Guilt. I took the glass from him, my fingers brushing against his.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He nodded slowly with that genuine smile on his face. I lifted the glass and took a sip.

The taste was sharp and stronger than I expected. But I didn’t think much of it. Not until my vision blurred.

At first, it was subtle, just a slight shift like a strange heaviness behind my eyes. Then it got worse quickly.

My grip on the glass loosened as I blinked, trying to focus on him, but his figure seemed off.

“Marcus…?” My voice came out unsteady.

He didn’t move. He just watched me carefully like he was waiting for something. A cold realization slid through me.

“What…did you—” My words slurred before I could finish. His expression changed then to something I hadn't seen before.

“I’m sorry, Nyra,” he said quietly.

The words didn’t match his face.

Panic surged, but my body refused to respond. My legs weakened, my vision dimming further as the room tilted around me.

And then, a masked man stepped out from the shadows. My breath caught, but I couldn’t scream. Everything was slipping.

The last thing I saw was Marcus standing there, watching me fall before I lost consciousness.