6

There was no day or night in Kade’s fortress. Only flickering torchlight and the low hum of silence that stretched endlessly through stone corridors.

Charollet didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen the sun.

It might have been weeks.

Her meals came at irregular hours. Some days, they didn’t come at all. The guards no longer spoke. She had been stripped of all privileges, if she’d ever had any. Her shift hung loosely on her starved frame, her skin marked with bruises that never had time to fade.

But her eyes?

Still unbroken.

Still that fierce grey, like the edge of a storm rolling over a sea.

And it drove Kade mad.

He stood behind the door now, staring at her through the iron bars that formed the top of the cell. She didn’t know he was watching, but he did this often. Watched her like a hunter watching a trapped animal. Waiting. Studying. Wanting.

She sat on the cold floor, painting invisible patterns in the dust with her fingers. Her hair, though matted, still held that faint sheen of pale light almost silver in certain angles. Her lips were soft, naturally pink, untouched by paint or rouge. She looked delicate, like something from a dream.

Like something he wanted to ruin.

Kade stepped into the room without knocking.

She didn’t even flinch anymore.

He closed the door behind him, letting the sound of the bolt snapping echo ominously.

“You always look so calm,” he murmured, walking toward her. “It’s… fascinating.”

She looked up, the firelight catching her face. Even exhausted and bruised, she was beautiful. Her high cheekbones, pale lashes, and that haunted quiet gave her an ethereal glow. Like a ghost left behind by the gods.

Kade crouched beside her.

“Are you broken yet?” he asked, smiling slightly. “Or do you still think you’re too good to beg?”

“I think you’re the one who’s begging,” she said softly. “Every time you come in here looking for something I’ll never give you.”

Kade’s smile darkened.

He leaned closer, fingers brushing along her jaw.

“You don’t understand what you’re worth, do you?” he whispered. “You think I want you because I’m weak? No, little dove. I want you because I can’t stop seeing you. You’re in my mind, even when I close my eyes. Every curve, every sound you make, every way you deny me, it makes me want to own you.”

She recoiled, but he caught her by the wrist, gripping just hard enough to leave a mark.

“You think it’s about lust?” he continued. “It’s more than that. You were made for me. You just don’t see it yet.”

Charollet didn’t scream. She didn’t cry.

She just stared at him with those unyielding grey eyes.

And it enraged him.

He shoved her back, making her hit the stone wall. Not hard enough to break her, he never hurt her enough to break but just enough to remind her she was his.

He hovered over her now, hand pressing into the wall beside her head.

“Do you know what I could do?” he growled. “What I should do?”

Her voice didn’t tremble.

“You already have. And you’re still empty.”

That stopped him.

For a beat, there was silence between them.

He hated her. Gods, he hated the way she made him feel like less.

But he couldn’t stop coming back.

He cupped her chin, turning her face toward his.

Her skin was soft—too soft for a rogue’s life.

He could feel the pulse in her throat, fast and terrified. He liked that. Liked knowing she was scared even if she hid it.

“You could be anything with me,” he murmured. “I’d give you silks. Gold. Freedom.”

“I want none of it.”

“You’ll change your mind. All good pets do.”

His fingers slid to her collarbone, tracing the faint mark left by a chain she no longer wore.

“You belong to me, Charollet. And if I can’t have your heart…”

He leaned closer, his lips nearly brushing hers.

“I’ll take your soul.”

Before he could move further, she jerked her knee up missing his groin by inches.

He caught her easily, laughing as he twisted her around and pinned her wrists behind her back.

“You still fight,” he breathed against her neck. “That’s what I love most.”

“Let me go,” she hissed.

“Not until you break.”

He released her suddenly, shoving her toward the center of the room. She stumbled, catching herself just before she fell.

Kade straightened his shirt, breath ragged.

He didn’t speak as he left.

He didn’t have to.

The door slammed shut behind him like the end of a war drum.

And Charollet collapsed to her knees.

Not from pain.

But from the weight of her helplessness.

Still no wolf.

Still no escape.

Still… alone.