The sound of Ethan's voice echoed from the hangar, ragged, desperate—"Alina!"
I lunged toward the door, my heart leaping, but Damien's hand clamped around my wrist before I could move another step. His grip was iron, cool and merciless.
"Let go!" I twisted, kicking against him, but he didn't flinch.
"Not tonight." His voice was calm, maddeningly so, even as my world crumbled. "Not here."
I dragged against him, fighting with every shred of strength. "He's inside—Ethan's inside! You lied, you said—"
"I said," Damien cut me off, leaning closer until his gray eyes swallowed the night, "that Ethan would not be a problem. I never lie, Alina. I simply decide what truths you're allowed to hear."
Rage boiled, but it collided with helplessness, leaving me raw. "You're sick."
His lips brushed the edge of a smirk. "Perhaps. But sickness wins wars, and I don't lose."
The hangar door groaned wider as figures shifted inside. I caught another faint glimpse—dark hair, a shadow struggling against two guards. My pulse surged, my voice cracking. "Ethan!"
He shouted again, my name like a blade cutting through steel.
I tore at Damien's grip, nails digging into his skin. He didn't even wince. He just held me there, making me feel the gulf of power between us.
"Alina," he said softly, dangerously, "look at me."
"I don't want to—"
"Look."
Against every instinct, my gaze snapped back to his. And in his eyes, I saw it—an emptiness that terrified me more than rage ever could. A man who had carved the world into obedience, who didn't need to raise his voice or brandish a weapon to cage me.
"Ethan can't save you," he murmured. "Not tonight. Not ever."
I wanted to spit in his face, but the guards were moving, dragging Ethan deeper into the shadows. Panic clawed my throat. If I lost him now—
"Damien, please," I begged, hating myself for the word. "Don't do this. Don't take him away from me."
Something flickered across his face—brief, sharp, gone in an instant. He leaned close enough that his breath ghosted my cheek. "You mistake me, Alina. I don't take. I keep."
And then, like smoke, the moment was over. He released my wrist so suddenly that I stumbled. By the time I righted myself, the hangar door had clanged shut. The night swallowed Ethan's voice.
I lunged forward, but Damien's arm hooked around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. My body stiffened, the heat of him searing through silk. "No—let me go—"
"Enough." His tone carried no volume, but it cracked through me like a whip. "You will not make a scene where the vultures can circle. Do you want tomorrow's headlines to read 'Mrs. Raine Screams for Another Man on Wedding Night'?"
My blood ran cold.
"You wouldn't," I whispered.
He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Try me."
Tears burned hot trails down my cheeks. I hated him. I hated that he was right. I hated that he knew exactly where to strike, how to twist the knife.
"Ethan," I whispered one last time, voice breaking.
Damien's arms tightened. "Say my name instead."
I froze.
He turned me slowly to face him, the floodlights painting cruel shadows across his face. His thumb traced my jaw—not tenderly, but with possession, as if memorizing the shape of what was his.
"Say it," he ordered.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw his eyes out. Instead, I clenched my teeth, shaking my head.
For a long moment, silence stretched, taut as wire. Then he laughed, low and dangerous, the sound curling in my stomach.
"Good," he said. "I prefer when you resist. It makes the inevitable sweeter."
Before I could answer, headlights cut across the tarmac. Another convoy of sleek black cars rolled toward us. Doors opened, men in suits stepping out like shadows. No words were exchanged. One opened the limousine door for Damien, another gestured me in.
I dug my heels into the asphalt. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
Damien's hand closed around mine, the ring biting into my skin as he lifted it for me to see. "You already did, Alina. At the altar. Now, get in the car."
I didn't move. The guards shifted closer. My breath caught. For one reckless second, I considered bolting into the night, but the fence loomed high and merciless, barbed wire gleaming.
"Do it with dignity," Damien murmured, "or I'll teach you without it."
The threat coiled in my spine. My pride screamed, but my survival instinct shoved it down. Jaw tight, I slid into the car. Damien followed, his presence filling the space like smoke.
The city blurred past in silence. I pressed against the far door, clutching my bouquet until petals crushed under my fingers. Damien didn't look at me, but the weight of his attention pressed anyway, unrelenting.
Finally, I broke. "What do you want from me?"
His gaze turned, gray eyes locking mine. "Everything."
My breath hitched.
The car pulled through iron gates, up a sweeping drive toward a mansion that rose like a fortress of glass and stone. Towers gleamed, lights burning in rows of windows, gardens trimmed into perfection. It was beautiful in the way predators are—majestic, terrifying, inescapable.
"Welcome home," Damien said as the car stopped.
"This isn't my home."
He smiled faintly, opening the door. "It will be."
I stepped out, dress trailing across marble steps. The air smelled of roses and something sharper—money, control, power. Inside, the foyer was vast, chandeliers glittering, portraits of Raine ancestors watching from gilded frames.
My skin crawled.
Damien's voice followed me into the silence. "From tonight, you'll learn the rules. And the first one is simple: there is no escape."
My chest tightened, but I lifted my chin anyway. "Then you'd better learn something too, Damien."
He arched a brow.
"I don't break easily."
His smirk deepened, but his eyes… his eyes burned.
"Good," he said. "I enjoy the fight."
The door shut behind us, locking the night—and Ethan—away.
And I realized the truth.
The wedding was only the beginning.
The real prison had just begun.