Chapter 5: Sleeping with the Abyss

The phone felt heavy in my hand. Rian had already hung up. The silence on the line was worse than the command itself. *Come to my bed.* Total, physical containment. My entire body went cold as I stared at the mahogany door between our suites. Behind it was Rian’s bedroom. Behind that, the containment room he warned me about. He was losing control. He said he could bring down the building. I believed him.

I had two choices. Stay here and die when the room failed. Or walk straight into the heart of the storm. I chose the storm.

I approached the connecting door. I didn’t hesitate. I swiped the electronic key card he had given me. The lock clicked open with a quiet, expensive sound. His room was vast and cold, filled with dark colors and glass. The bed dominated the space, massive and industrial. Reinforced steel. Bolted to the ground. Chains hanging from the frame. He had planned for total failure. He had planned for restraint.

Rian wasn’t in the containment room. He was on the bed. He was almost naked, half-covered by a sheet, his body rigid with tension. His skin was pale. Muscles bunched violently beneath it. His chest rose in harsh, ragged breaths. His eyes were wide. Amber. Locked on the ceiling like he was afraid to move.

“I’m here,” I whispered. The sound barely reached him.

“Close the door,” he ordered. His voice was rough, already slipping toward something feral. “Turn off the light.”

I obeyed. The room fell into near-darkness. Moonlight traced the edge of his body. My pulse pounded in my ears. I felt trapped inside the monster’s lair.

“The bed,” he ground out. “Now. You must touch me.”

The command sliced through me. Lie next to him? The predator who marked my desk and stole my evidence? My legs felt like stone.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “You’re losing control. I’m scared.”

A sharp crack rang out from the containment room door. Metal straining. Something powerful pushing against the frame. Rian’s body convulsed like he’d been electrocuted.

“Now, Anchor!” he snarled. “The chains won’t hold. I need the filter. I need your skin. Comply!”

I moved. Fear pushed me forward. I stripped down to my slip. I slid beneath the heavy duvet on the far side of the bed. The mattress was cold. Rian was burning. I felt the heat radiate toward me like a furnace.

“Closer,” he breathed. The word trembled with effort.

I inched toward him. Slow. Careful. Watching his hand just in case the predator broke free. I stopped when my hip brushed his side.

The change was immediate.

The violent shaking stopped. The growling cut off. The room went still. Rian released a deep breath, slow and shuddering. The tension evaporated around us. The air cleared. The monster retreated.

He stayed rigid, barely human, but the worst had passed.

I lay there trembling. I had never been more aware of my fragility. I had never been more aware of my power. I was the only thing keeping him human. I was the key.

Slowly, he turned his head toward me. His glowing eyes faded slightly. He looked exhausted. Raw. Mortal.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

The softness in his voice frightened me more than the growl. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to breathe.

“Is it over?” I asked. “Tell me what happens now.”

“It is contained,” he said. “The Abyss retreats when anchored. The physical connection stabilizes the core.” His breath stuttered. “Do not move until sunrise.”

“You lied,” I said. My voice was thin but steady. “Everything you told me about your control was a lie.”

“I managed to survive,” he replied. “I managed my dependency. Your value is absolute. That is the truth.”

“And the chains?” I asked quietly.

“They are for when the Anchor is not present. Or unwilling,” he said. “You are the superior restraint.”

I stayed silent. Fear and understanding mixed until I couldn’t separate the two.

When I woke, the room was quiet. The sun painted gold across the city. I was still in his bed. Still pressed against his skin. But Rian was asleep now. Fully human. Calm. His breathing even and soft.

I slipped out of the bed. I dressed quickly, avoiding the chains bolted to the frame. I moved toward the connecting door, desperate for distance, when I heard him stir.

Rian opened his eyes. The brown was back. Cold. Sharp. He took in the scene. The ruined suit. The marked room. My panic. He remembered everything.

His mask slammed into place.

“Get out,” he said. Quiet. Lethal.

I obeyed. I fled to my suite and collapsed onto the sofa. The night’s intimacy replayed in my mind. Too close. Too dangerous. I needed to escape him. Now.

But then, a heavy triple-rap echoed from the executive floor’s main entrance.

No one ever knocked on the 65th floor.

Rian’s voice cut through the intercom. Sharp. Urgent. “Elara. Do not open that door.”

But a man’s voice answered from the other side. Cold and dominant.

“Thorne. We know you are here. We can sense the female. And we have come for what you stole from our territory.”

The lock began to grind. Metal tearing.

My heart dropped.

Rian was not the only monster in this building.