Alexander’s POV

The drive back to Dayavolicia is silent, but inside my head, it’s anything but.

This place is a relic of the past—a monument to pain. Once a school, then a sanctuary, now a prison. The walls whisper the screams of the damned, echoing the sins committed here over centuries.

I park my car outside the iron gates, stepping into the cold. It always feels colder here. Like the air refuses to carry warmth.

The guards bow their heads as I pass. They know better than to ask questions. The King does not answer to anyone.

But I do.

I step inside the estate, my boots heavy against the stone floor. My grandfather is waiting.

Xavier stands outside the office, his back against the wall, his arms crossed. He looks at me like he already knows.

"He's never going to let you keep her," Xavier murmurs.

I exhale through my nose, my patience thin. "And I’m never going to let her go."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "You really think you have a choice?"

I don’t answer. Because I don’t.

My hands curl into fists as I push the door open, stepping inside the dimly lit room.

My grandfather is seated behind his desk, an untouched glass of whiskey before him. Kolya stands beside him, silent as ever. He watches me like a predator sizing up prey.

The tension in the room is suffocating.

This is about Emily.

"Have a seat, son."

I remain standing. "I’ll stand."

Kolya smirks. My grandfather merely sighs, like I’m a disobedient child.

"She can stay," he finally says. "But she must be initiated."

My stomach knots.

Initiation.

The word alone is a death sentence.

I swallow the bile rising in my throat. "She's mine."

"Not yet."

I turn to Kolya, my fists itching to break his jaw.

"I'm not handing her over."

My grandfather watches me, unaffected. "Then do what needs to be done."

They want me to break her.

To drag her into the depths of this world, strip her of everything she once was, and mold her into something new. Something I own.

She’ll hate me for it. And that should bother me.

It doesn’t.

Hate is fine. Hate means she’s alive. Hate means she’s still mine.

Kolya lets out a dark chuckle. "Told you he couldn’t do it."

I see red.

"I say we go with my plan," he continues. "Throw her in a cell. Let her break on her own. No one's looking for her."

"No!" I snap. "You're not touching her."

My grandfather finally speaks, his voice sharp. "Those are your two options, Alexander."

He leans forward, his expression unreadable. "You take her, or we do. What’s it going to be?"

My jaw clenches so hard I feel it crack.

Me.

I force the word through my teeth. "Me."

"Good." My grandfather nods. "Leon will bring you everything you need."

A sharp weight settles in my chest. I won’t even get to choose how I do it.

They’ll decide that for me.

I turn and storm out of the office, my breath ragged.

Xavier is still waiting outside, his arms still crossed, but now there’s something different in his eyes.

Doubt.

"Change of plans," I mutter.

His jaw tightens. "What now?"

I grip my keys, my body already moving. "I have to initiate her."

A long silence.

Then, "Fuck."

I whip around. "I don’t have a choice, Xavier!" My voice is rough, laced with something dark. "Either you help me, or you get the fuck out of my way."

He exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair. "Fine." His voice is cold. "What's your plan?"

I glance back toward the mansion. Toward Emily.

"Follow me."

Emily’s POV

After breakfast, I spend some time playing with Storm.

He doesn’t leave my side, his sharp silver eyes tracking my every movement.

It’s strange. He’s never been this protective before.

I run my fingers through his thick fur, forcing a small smile. But the tension in my chest refuses to ease.

I’m tired. A bubble bath sounds perfect.

I slip into my room, locking the door behind me. The bathroom is quiet, the soft flicker of candlelight dancing against the walls.

I turn on the water, watching as the steam rises, filling the space with warmth.

For a moment, I let myself breathe.

Forget.

Forget the screams. Forget the woman in the basement. Forget the way Alex looked at me last night—like he was someone else.

A man I didn’t recognize.

I step into the tub, sinking beneath the bubbles. The heat soothes my body, but my mind won’t stop racing.

Why did he do that to her?

Why was she screaming like that?

What did she do to deserve it?

And more importantly… will I be next?

I know Alex cares about me.

He’s never hurt me.

Well—not in ways I didn’t enjoy.

My face heats at the thought, and I hate myself for it.

The water sloshes gently as I lean back, closing my eyes.

The door creaks open.

I freeze.

The candlelight flickers, the flames bending in the cold draft.

My heartbeat slams against my ribs as I hear footsteps—slow, measured. Controlled.

Alex steps inside.

His face is unreadable.

We don’t speak.

He removes his shirt first. Then his belt. Then the rest.

He slides into the tub behind me, his legs framing mine. His arms cage me in, unyielding.

I stay still.

His hands move to my shoulders, his thumbs pressing into my tense muscles.

I shudder beneath his touch.

"I’m sorry, kotenok."

His voice is quiet, but it isn’t soft.

It’s a warning.

A storm in the distance, inching closer.

His fingers trail down my arms, slow, deliberate.

Like he’s memorizing me.

Like he’s saying goodbye.

Or maybe—

Maybe he’s claiming me.

A lump forms in my throat.

Something is coming.

And I don’t know if I’ll survive it.

Author’s Note:

This story is dark, twisted, and not for the faint of heart. Love and obsession blur, morality is a myth, and survival comes at a cost. If you're looking for a fairytale, this isn't it. Enter at your own risk.