The castle never slept.
Even in the silence of midnight, Ariana could hear the whispers of something ancient and hungry moving through the stone halls. Voices in a language she didn't understand. Footsteps that didn't belong to anything living.
She wrapped herself tighter in the silk robe Damien had left for her.
Her body still buzzed from his kiss—his touch. Her lips were swollen, her thighs aching. And yet he had left her again.
Not to punish her.
But to build her hunger.
He wanted her begging. On her knees. Shattered, then remade in his name.
And worse, part of her was starting to understand why.
She left his chambers for the first time since her capture. No guards stopped her. The corridors were endless, lit only by torches. Cold stone under bare feet. But Ariana didn't stop.
She needed to breathe.
She turned a corner—and stopped.
A man stood at the end of the hallway.
Broad-shouldered. Raven-black hair tied back. His features were carved like Damien's, but sharper. Colder. Cruel in a different way.
His eyes glowed silver in the dark.
"Leaving so soon, little mortal?" he said.
She took a step back. "Who are you?"
He smiled.
"I'm the one Damien fears."
He moved closer, and the air changed—turned frigid, toxic.
"Xander," he said with a mock bow. "The elder brother. The one who should've led this clan if fate weren't so disgustingly unfair."
Ariana narrowed her eyes. "So you're the jealous one."
His smile dropped.
"You speak like you know him," Xander said, circling her. "You think his obsession with you is love? A curse? No. It's weakness. You're his flaw, human."
"I'm no one's weakness."
Xander stopped in front of her.
"You are. And when I peel the skin from your body and send it to him, he'll finally see what his human addiction has cost him."
Ariana slapped him.
Again.
She didn't care if it killed her.
But Xander didn't react the way Damien had.
He smiled.
Then grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back into the wall.
Not gently. Not with control.
With rage.
She choked, clawed at his hand.
"You think you have power here?" he hissed. "You're food. A toy. A stain on our legacy. But don't worry…" His mouth dropped to her neck. "I'll taste you before I end you."
"Touch her again," a voice growled behind them, "and I'll rip your spine out through your cock."
Xander froze.
Damien stood in the corridor's mouth, eyes glowing red. Fangs bared. Power radiated from him in waves—ancient, furious, and cold as death.
Xander released her slowly.
"I was just introducing myself," he said, voice slick with mockery.
Damien didn't move.
"If you ever lay a finger on her again, brother…" His voice was low, deadly. "I won't kill you clean."
Xander stepped back, hands up.
"I'll leave her to you, little brother. But remember… love doesn't make us stronger. It makes us bleed."
He vanished into the dark.
Damien rushed to Ariana's side.
She pushed him back. "I don't need you to save me."
His jaw clenched. "I should've kept you in the room."
"Don't pretend this is about protection," she snapped. "You want control."
He grabbed her arms. "I want you safe."
"Why?! Why do you care?!"
His lips crushed hers before she could breathe.
He pinned her against the wall, his mouth devouring, punishing. She moaned against him, torn between rage and need. His hand slid into her hair, fisting it, pulling her head back to bare her throat.
"I care because you're mine," he growled into her skin.
"You don't own me," she panted.
"No," he whispered, dragging his lips down to her collarbone. "But I will."
Then he lifted her off the ground and carried her back to his chamber, his eyes wild with rage and lust.
He laid her on the bed, yanked the robe off her body, and hovered over her, breathing hard.
"You want me?" he asked.
Her body screamed yes.
But her mouth said, "I don't know."
He kissed her again—deep, slow, brutal.
"You will."
And with that, he sank down beside her, holding her body against his, naked and trembling, but untouched.
And Ariana realized:
He wasn't just waiting to take her.
He was waiting to destroy every reason she had to say no.