Athena's legs trembled as she was led through the twisting corridors of the mansion, her arms still clutching her chest as though she could somehow shield herself from the world around her. The cold stone beneath her feet seemed to drink the warmth from her body, and the dim light from torches cast shadows that stretched like dark fingers along the walls. Every step she took was a reminder of her captivity. Every breath felt borrowed, every heartbeat a drum of warning.
She had thought the horrors of the night before—the execution of the guards—were the pinnacle of terror. But as the doors to the main hall swung open, she realized she had only scratched the surface of the darkness that surrounded her.
The hall was vast, impossibly so, stretching far beyond what she could see. Massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their flickering flames casting uneven light that danced across the polished black floors. Statues of grotesque creatures lined the walls, their eyes seemingly following her every movement. A long, obsidian table stretched down the center of the room, set with silverware and plates that glimmered like moonlight on water—but there were no dishes of food she recognized.
Her breath caught when she noticed the guests. Creatures that looked human at first glance, but the unnatural sharpness of their teeth, the gleam of crimson eyes, the subtle flicker of claws beneath their sleeves, revealed them for what they truly were. Vampires, demons, beings of legend, all gathered as if awaiting a spectacle. Athena felt her stomach twist in fear. Every instinct screamed for her to flee, yet she was powerless, held by the invisible leash of Lugaurd's presence.
He was at the head of the table, seated like a dark god surveying his realm. The sight of him made her shiver uncontrollably. His gray eyes met hers across the room, piercing and cold, yet something in their depth made her stomach clench in a way that had nothing to do with fear. He rose gracefully, and the room seemed to bow in response—not literally, but in the aura of obedience that emanated from him.
"Sit," he commanded, and the word was simple, declarative, carrying the weight of centuries. She obeyed, moving toward a chair near the far end of the table, though her limbs felt like lead.
Athena's eyes widened as he approached a massive, veined platter at the center of the table. The air seemed to thicken, and a coppery scent invaded her nostrils. Her stomach lurched violently as he lifted a piece of meat—no ordinary flesh, she realized too late. The red shimmered unnaturally in the torchlight, pulsing with life. Lugaurd's hand gripped it, and he brought it to his mouth, tearing into it with a sound that made Athena's blood run cold. The bones cracked and splintered under his teeth, and the taste, she imagined, must be raw, primal.
Her eyes could not leave him. She wanted to look away, to shield herself, but the horrifying grace of his movements held her gaze hostage. The creatures around the table murmured, not in words, but in a sound that grated against her eardrums, like whispers of approval and anticipation.
Lugaurd's gray eyes flicked to her briefly, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. He smirked, and in that fleeting curve of his lips, there was a warning. This is your world now. Watch, learn, understand.
He turned the platter slightly, allowing her to see the victim—a man bound in leather straps, his eyes wide with terror. Athena's heart raced, the bile rising in her throat, but Lugaurd did not flinch. He sank his teeth into the man's shoulder, and the sound of ripping flesh echoed through the hall. A crimson spray painted the edges of the obsidian table, glinting like rubies in the flickering torchlight.
"No!" Athena's voice cracked, and she clutched at the sides of her chair. She wanted to look away, to cover her eyes, but the sight seared itself into her memory. She could feel the pulse of the man's life leaving him, could hear the slow, guttural gasps that became silent in moments.
Lugaurd's eyes never left hers. His expression was unreadable, yet she could sense the subtle rhythm of his breathing, the tilt of his head, the faint curve of his lips—enough to make her feel dizzy. Terror and an inexplicable pull twisted together in her chest, tightening like iron bands.
The feast continued, each bite more grotesque than the last. Athena watched, unable to tear herself away, as Lugaurd demonstrated not just power, but the inevitability of it. This was his domain. Every creature, every shadow, every whisper belonged to him. She realized then that the mansion itself obeyed him, bending reality to his will.
When the meal concluded, he pushed back from the table, the crimson-stained plates glimmering under the torchlight. He approached her, slow and deliberate. Her pulse quickened, her body betraying her fear with a jittery, forbidden awareness. He stopped just behind her chair, his presence so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You see now," he murmured, voice low and hypnotic, "the world you thought you knew is gone. There is only this… and me."
Athena trembled, a mixture of repulsion and something darker stirring in her veins. She wanted to scream, to flee, to strike—but she was rooted, caught in the gravity of his power.
He knelt slightly, bringing his face level with hers. "Do not think you can understand it all yet," he whispered. His breath was cold but carried a scent that made her shiver. "Do not think you can resist. You are mine, and this is only the beginning."
Her hands shook as she pressed them to her lap. "I… I hate you," she breathed, voice quivering. "I—"
He silenced her with a touch to her cheek, fingers brushing her skin lightly but firmly, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Hate me all you want," he said, voice low and lethal. "It changes nothing. You belong here, and you will learn to survive, whether you like it or not."
Athena's tears fell, hot and furious, but her body betrayed her, her skin tingling under his touch despite the terror that gripped her heart. He straightened suddenly, stepping back, leaving her with a cold, devastating awareness: he had no need to explain, no need to comfort, no need to allow her any shred of understanding.
The other creatures murmured behind her, their voices like a chorus of shadows, praising, whispering, confirming what she already knew. This was Lugaurd's world, and she was its newest prey.
As the hall settled into uneasy silence, Athena's eyes met Lugaurd's across the room. He was watching her, studying her reaction, and in that instant, she realized she had never truly seen fear until now—and she would never forget it. Her chest tightened, her hands trembled, and she knew with icy clarity that her life had irrevocably changed.
And then he smiled, the faintest, most terrifying curl of his lips. A predator's smile, and yet… something else lingered beneath it. A hint of amusement, a trace of intrigue. Athena did not understand it, could not name it, and it only made her skin crawl further.
"Rest tonight," he said finally, voice slicing through the silence. "Tomorrow, the lessons begin. Do not think to run, do not think to defy me. The cost will be… too high."
Athena swallowed hard, tears still streaking her face. "I… I'll never obey you!" she whispered, almost to herself.
Lugaurd's eyes flicked with a shadow of something she couldn't decipher, and then he turned, his cloak sweeping the floor as he vanished into the darkness.
Left alone in the grand hall, Athena pressed her palms to the cold obsidian table, the lingering scent of blood and iron filling her lungs. Her body shook uncontrollably, but beneath the fear, beneath the horror, something else lingered—a forbidden, maddening curiosity. A dangerous, dark fascination she could not name.
And she realized, with a sinking heart, that she was utterly trapped. Not just by walls, not just by guards, not just by fear—but by him.
The mansion felt alive, watching her, breathing with her terror, and somewhere in the shadows, Lugaurd waited.
For her next mistake.
For her inevitable surrender.
For the moment when Athena would finally understand what it truly meant to be his.