ログインSera Winters pov
Captivity isn't always about locks and chains. Sometimes it's about making you responsible for keeping yourself caged. I spent the first hour throwing things. Not hard things. I wasn't trying to break anything. Just soft things. Pillows. The blanket. My bag. I threw them at the wall and watched them fall and felt absolutely nothing. The second hour I paced. Back and forth. Window to door. Door to window. Counting my steps. Losing count. Starting over. The third hour I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and stared at the locked door and tried to figure out how I'd gotten here. But I knew how. I'd gotten in the car. I'd trusted my mother. I'd been stupid. By the fourth hour I couldn't sit still anymore. I picked up Caelan's phone from where he'd left it. Like he knew I'd need it again. Like he knew I wasn't done. I dialed without looking at the screen. I knew the number by heart. It rang four times. I thought she wasn't going to answer. Then she did. "Sera." Not a question. Just my name. Flat and tired. "Tell me the truth," I said. A pause. Long enough that I heard her breathing on the other end. "I already told you the truth." "No. You told me to be grateful. That's not the truth. That's bullshit." She sighed. Long and heavy. "What do you want me to say?" "I want you to say you didn't know. I want you to say this was a mistake. I want you to say you're coming to get me." "I can't say any of that." My jaw clenched so hard my teeth hurt. "Why not?" "Because it's not true." I pressed my hand against my mouth. Tried to keep the sound in. It came out anyway. Small and broken and pathetic. "Sera, listen to me." Her voice changed. Got softer. Almost gentle. Almost like she used to sound when I was little. "Marcus owed them money. A lot of money. Money we didn't have. They were going to take the house. Take everything. He had to give them something." "So he gave them me." "He gave them his daughter." "I'm not his daughter." "No. You're not." She said it so simply. Like it was obvious. Like everyone knew. "His real daughter is at college. She has a future. She has plans. You—" She stopped. I waited. My fingernails dug into my palm. "You what?" I asked. My voice shook. "Say it. Finish the sentence." "You were already struggling, Sera. No direction. No plans. Working that dead-end job. Living in that tiny apartment with no heat. I thought—" She paused. Took a breath. "I thought maybe this could be good for you." Good for me. My ears rang. That same high-pitched sound that wouldn't stop. "You thought being sold would be good for me." "You're not being sold. You're helping the family. There's a difference." "Is there?" "Yes." She said it so firmly. Like she believed it. "They're good men, Sera. They'll take care of you. Give you things I couldn't." "I don't want things. I want to come home." Silence. Long silence. "Mom?" "You don't have a home anymore." The words were so cold. So final. Like she'd been waiting to say them. "What?" "Marcus gave up your apartment. You were month to month anyway. It's already been rented to someone else." My apartment. My tiny freezing apartment with the broken heater and the coffee shop two blocks away and the bodega cat. Gone. Just gone. "You can't—" My voice cracked. "You can't just erase me." "I'm not erasing you. I'm—" She stopped. Started again. "You're twenty-two years old, Sera. It's time to grow up. This is life. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices." "I'm the sacrifice." "You're helping your family." "I'm not your family." The words came out sharp. Mean. I didn't care. "I've never been your family. I've just been the extra one. The one you kept around because it was easier than explaining where I went." "That's not fair." "No. It's not." I laughed and it sounded awful. Wrong. "But it's true." She was quiet for a long time. Then she said, "I have to go. Marcus is waiting." "Of course he is." "Be good, sweetheart. Make the best of it." The line went dead. I threw the phone at the wall. It hit hard. Cracked. Pieces of glass fell to the floor. Then I screamed. Not words. Just sound. Raw and loud and ugly. I screamed until my throat burned like I'd swallowed acid. Until I couldn't breathe. Until I fell to my knees and pressed my forehead against the cold floor and wished I could just stop existing. I don't know how long I stayed like that. Time felt wrong. Too slow and too fast at the same time. But when I finally looked up, Kieran was standing in the doorway. The door was open. He was just standing there watching me with those concerned eyes like he actually gave a damn. "How long have you been there?" I asked. My voice was wrecked. Hoarse and broken. "A few minutes." "Get out." "I can't." I laughed. It hurt. "Right. Because I'm a prisoner." "You're not—" "Then let me leave." He didn't answer. Just stood there looking at me like I was something sad he couldn't fix. I pushed myself up off the floor. My legs shook. "That's what I thought." "Sera, there's something you need to understand." "I understand plenty. You bought me. My family sold me. I'm trapped. What else is there?" "Why we needed you." "I don't care why." "You should." He stepped into the room. Closed the door behind him. His hands were shaking. Just slightly. I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't looking. "We're dying." I blinked. "What?" "All three of us." He walked to the window. Looked out at the trees. "There's a curse. It's killing us." "A curse." I said it flat. Like he'd just told me the sky was green. "I know how it sounds." "It sounds insane." "It's true." He turned to look at me. His face was serious. No smile. No warmth. Just exhaustion. "We've tried everything. Nothing works. You're the only—" He stopped. Grabbed the windowsill. His knuckles went white. "Kieran?" He didn't answer. His breathing got weird. Fast and shallow. Then I saw it. Black lines crawling up his neck. Like ink spreading under his skin. They moved. Actually moved. Twisting and spreading and reaching toward his jaw. "What the hell—" "It's fine." His voice was tight. Strained. "It does this sometimes." "That's not fine. That's—" The lines reached his face. Spread across his cheek like cracks in porcelain. He made a sound. Low and pained. His hand went to his chest. "Kieran!" I moved toward him without thinking. "What do I—" "Don't touch me." He held up his hand. "Just—don't." I froze. The lines kept spreading. Up to his temple. Down to his collarbone. I could see them moving under his shirt. Then they stopped. Just stopped. He took a shaky breath. Another. The lines started to fade. Slowly. Like someone was erasing them. "That's the curse," he said quietly. His voice was rough. "It's getting worse." I stared at him. At the fading marks on his skin. "How long—" "Weeks. Maybe less." He finally looked at me. "Without you, we don't make it to spring." "I don't understand. What am I supposed to do? I'm not a doctor. I'm not—" "You're not human." He said it so simply. Like it was obvious. "Not entirely." My stomach dropped. "What?" "Your bloodline. It's rare. Old. You have something in you that can break curses. But only if—" The door opened. Caelan walked in. His face was blank. Unreadable. But his eyes went straight to Kieran. To the marks still fading on his skin. "Kieran," he said quietly. "That's enough." "She needed to know." "She knows enough." He looked at me. "You have a choice, Sera." "A choice." I wrapped my arms around myself. "What choice?" "Stay willingly. Let the bond form. We all live." "And if I run?" "We die." He said it without emotion. Without hesitation. "Within weeks. Maybe sooner." My breath caught in my throat. "That's not a choice. That's just—" "Captivity with guilt," he finished. "Yes. But it's the only one you have." I stared at him. At his cold gray eyes. At his blank face that showed nothing. He wasn't apologizing. He wasn't even pretending this was fair. He was just stating facts. I had no home. No family. No one who cared if I lived or died except three dying men who needed me to survive. "I hate you," I said. My voice came out quiet. Calm. "I want you to know that. I hate all of you." Caelan didn't flinch. "I know." "Good." I walked past him. Past Kieran. Out into the hallway. "Then we understand each other." I didn't know where I was going. Didn't care. Just needed to move. To get away from them and their curse and their dying and their trap. Behind me I heard Kieran say softly, "That went well." Caelan didn't answer. I kept walking down the hall. Past doors I didn't know. Past windows that showed nothing but forest. Then I stopped. My reflection stared back at me from a mirror on the wall. Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Pale skin. Nothing special. Nothing different. Except my eyes. They weren't hazel anymore. They were gold. Bright burning gold. I blinked. They went back to normal. I stepped closer to the mirror. Stared at myself. At my normal boring eyes. Then they flashed gold again. Just for a second. Something inside my chest shifted. Not painful. Just wrong. Like something was waking up that shouldn't be awake. I backed away from the mirror. My hands were shaking again. What the hell was I?Sera WintersThe most terrifying revelations aren't the ones that change who you are. They're the ones that prove you never knew yourself at all.I went downstairs.Not because I wanted to. Not because I'd forgiven anything. But because staying locked in my room meant Daxen would keep hearing me think in circles and I couldn't take that anymore.So I went downstairs. To the kitchen. Where normal people did normal things like make food and pretend their lives weren't completely fucked.The kitchen was empty when I got there. Big. Clean. Windows looking out at the forest that went on forever. I opened cabinets until I found bread. Opened the fridge and found cheese. Normal things. Human things.I could do this. Make a sandwich. Eat it. Go back upstairs. Simple.I found a knife in the drawer. Started slicing the bread.The blade slipped.Sliced right across my palm. Deep. Too deep."Shit." I dropped the knife. Grabbed a tow
Sera WintersPrivacy is the first thing captivity takes. Your body, your choices, your space. But when they take your thoughts too, there's nowhere left to hide.I wasn't leaving this room.Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not ever.I sat on the bathroom floor with my back against the door and my knees pulled up to my chest. I'd been here since last night. Since I ran from the library. Since I let Kieran touch me and liked it.My body still remembered. Every place his hands had been felt warmer. Different. Marked.I scrubbed at my skin in the shower until it hurt. Until the hot water ran cold. Until I couldn't feel his touch anymore.But I could still feel the pleasure. The way my body had responded to him. The way I'd begged him not to stop.What was wrong with me?Someone knocked on my bedroom door. I ignored it.They knocked again. Louder this time."Sera." Kieran's voice. Soft. Worried. "Please talk to me."I d
Sera WintersSometimes the worst prison isn't the one that holds your body. It's the one that makes you want to stay.I didn't leave the library.Hours passed. The sun went down completely. The room got dark except for one lamp in the corner that Kieran turned on without asking if I wanted it.We talked. About nothing. About everything. About his life before the curse. About mine before I got sold. Normal things. Human things. Like we were just two people having a conversation instead of captor and captive.And I hated how good it felt. How normal. How almost right.My body was exhausted. My mind was exhausted. But I couldn't make myself get up and leave. Couldn't make myself go back to that empty room and sit alone with my thoughts.So I stayed.Kieran didn't push. Didn't ask questions I didn't want to answer. Just sat there and talked when I wanted to talk and stayed quiet when I didn't.It was the kindes
Sera WintersLoneliness is a weapon. And the cruelest captors know exactly how to use it.My hands stopped glowing.I stared at them in the dim light of my room. At my normal, boring hands that had been burning gold just seconds ago. At the skin that looked the same but felt different. Wrong. Like something had changed underneath that I couldn't see.My eyes were back to hazel when I checked the mirror. Not gold. Not burning. Just regular eyes staring back at a face I barely recognized anymore.What was happening to me?I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to slow my breathing. Tried to make sense of it. The healing. The gold eyes. The glow. The heat that had spread through my body like something waking up.You were born this way.Kieran's words from yesterday. From the confrontation with the shard. From the moment I'd threatened to destroy their cure.Born this way.But I'd lived twenty-two years
Sera WintersPower isn't always about strength. Sometimes it's about knowing exactly what someone else is afraid to lose.I ate everything.Every bite of food Kieran had left outside my door. The bread. The soup. The fruit. All of it. I sat on the floor with the tray in my lap and ate until my stomach hurt. Until I felt sick. Until there was nothing left.Not because I wanted to.Because I had to.Because my body had made that decision in the forest when it responded to Daxen's hands on me. When it trembled under his weight. When it wanted things I didn't want.I couldn't trust my body anymore. Couldn't trust my mind. Couldn't trust anything except the fact that I was still here. Still breathing. Still surviving.Even if surviving felt like losing.I set the empty tray outside my door and locked myself back in. Crawled into bed. Pulled the blanket over my head like I was five years old and afraid of monsters.Except the
Sera Winters Fear and desire are closer than anyone wants to admit. Sometimes they're the same thing wearing different masks.Daxen let go.I stumbled back. Caught myself on the bedpost.“What?”Daxen's arms locked around my waist. Pulled me back through the window. My feet hit the floor but my legs wouldn't hold me.He kept his hands on me. Steadying me. His grip was iron."Let go." I shoved at his chest. Might as well have been shoving a wall."Not yet.""I said let go.""I heard you." He was smiling. That same hungry smile. "Answer's still no."I twisted. Tried to break his grip. He just held on tighter. His hands spanning my waist like it was nothing."You were gonna jump," he said. Almost conversational. "Two stories. Would've broken both legs at least. Maybe your neck if you landed wrong.""Better than staying here.""Is it?" He tilted his head. Studying me. "You really think death's better than us?""Yes.







