The hall smelled of iron and smoke.
I was dragged across its length, my wrists bound in silver, the scent of burned flesh rising with each step I took. The guards forced me forward until I was on my knees before the dais — before him.
Marcus sat upon his throne.
His cloak pooled at his feet like spilled night, and his eyes gleamed with an unnatural hunger that seemed to strip skin from bone.
I kept my head down, but the shadows inside me quivered. They recoiled and reached for him at the same time, like prey uncertain if the predator before them was master or death.
Marcus didn't speak at first. He only studied me, silent, until the weight of it pressed on my chest like a blade. Finally, his voice slipped into the air — soft, unhurried, but each word carrying like thunder.
"You've grown bold, little shadow."
My throat worked, but I said nothing.
"You defy my law. You reject my trials. You spill blood in my dungeons as if the Court were your stage." He leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand. "Tell me — was that rebellion, or instinct?"
I raised my head, forcing my eyes to meet his. "You were torturing him. What did you expect?"
The smallest curl touched his lips. Not amusement — satisfaction.
"So you will bare your fangs when your leash is tugged," Marcus murmured. He rose from his throne with the grace of a blade being drawn. His cloak whispered across the steps as he descended, one deliberate stride at a time, until he stood before me. His hand reached out, fingers hooking beneath my chin, tilting my head upward until my gaze was trapped in his.
"Look at you," he said, almost reverent. "Shadows that kill without command. Loyalty that refuses the knife. Power driven by attachment." He paused, smile widening. "Attachment is dangerous, Aria. It makes you weak. But—" his thumb traced the line of my jaw, cold and invasive, "—it also makes you useful."
My stomach knotted. "You mean Liam."
Marcus's smile sharpened into something crueler. He flicked his hand.
The guards obeyed instantly. From the far side of the hall, they dragged Liam into the torchlight.
He stumbled, chains clattering, his shirt soaked with dried blood. His face was pale, his lips split. Yet his eyes — when they found me — still held steady. Still alive.
My breath hitched. The shadows surged, straining against my ribs.
Marcus's voice poured into the silence. "He lives because of me." He circled me now, slow, like a predator walking the edge of its prey. "Every breath he takes is mine to allow or deny. And so I offer you a choice."
The Court leaned in, vampires crouched along the balconies like carrion birds. Kaylan stood at the edge of the dais, arms crossed, eyes blazing with contempt. Lucian watched with a grin too sharp to be human. Selene's veil drifted in the torchlight, her head tilted as if listening to threads no one else could hear.
Marcus stopped behind me, his presence coiling like smoke around my shoulders.
"Serve me," he whispered against my ear. "Become what I command. Not shadow-wielder. Not fledgling. Weapon. Blade. Queen of darkness, sharpened by my hand. Do this, and Liam will live."
I froze.
"And if I refuse?" My voice was raw.
He stepped back, his eyes igniting with a terrible light. He gestured to the guards. In a blink, one yanked Liam forward, forcing him onto his knees before the dais. A blade was drawn, pressed to his throat.
Gasps rippled through the chamber. Liam tensed but didn't break. His gaze found mine, steady, unshaking.
"If you resist me," Marcus said, his voice echoing like a death toll, "he dies. Slowly. Brutally. And you will watch."
The dagger bit against Liam's skin. A thin line of crimson welled and slid down his neck.
"No!" The scream ripped from me before I could stop it. The shadows exploded outward, black tendrils wrapping the floor, striking the air. The guards staggered back, hissing, but Marcus only lifted a hand.
And the shadows froze.
Not by my will. By his.
My breath caught. He hadn't moved fast — he hadn't even struck. But somehow, the power he exuded pressed down so completely that even my shadows bent beneath it, shivering like dogs before their master.
"See?" Marcus murmured, lowering his hand. "You belong to me already. All that remains is for you to accept it."
Liam's voice rasped across the hall, hoarse but unbroken. "Don't… don't give him what he wants, Aria."
"Quiet," Kaylan snapped, slamming a fist into his stomach. He doubled over, coughing blood, but still lifted his head to glare at her.
Marcus didn't even look at him. His attention was all on me. "What will it be, little shadow?"
The Court was silent. Waiting. Hungry.
I stared at Liam, blood streaking his neck, his chains digging into raw skin. My entire body trembled with the weight of it. If I refused, Marcus would kill him. If I obeyed, Marcus would use me — turn me into his weapon, sharpen me into something unrecognizable.
Both paths were ruin.
The shadows whispered in my skull.
Choose him. Choose us. Choose blood. Choose chains. There is no freedom, only bond. Only hunger.
I shut my eyes.
"Aria," Liam said again. His voice cracked. "Don't. Not for me. Don't let him own you."
Tears burned behind my lids. My breath came sharp. And when I opened my eyes again, I forced myself to look at Marcus — not as master, not as god, but as what he was. Predator. Tyrant.
"I won't be your weapon," I said.
The chamber shook with the weight of it.
Marcus's smile didn't falter. "No?"
My voice broke but carried. "No."
He raised his hand.
The guard's blade drew across Liam's throat.
I screamed—
—but the cut was shallow. Deliberate. Blood spilled, but Liam still breathed.
The Court hissed in shock. Kaylan's eyes flared with fury.
Marcus stepped down, brushing past Liam as if he were nothing more than a piece of furniture. He came to stand before me, lowering his face until his eyes burned directly into mine.
"You will serve me," he said, voice low and final. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon. You will serve because the boy will live, and every day he draws breath will be mine to give or take. That is the chain I've wrapped around your throat. And you will wear it."
He turned, cloak sweeping behind him, ascending to his throne once more.
"Take them back," he commanded.
The guards seized us both, dragging Liam and me in opposite directions. His eyes met mine as the distance stretched.
I mouthed the word — hold.
And then he was gone.