Greta froze. The words came out soft, almost tender, but the chill behind them cut straight to the bone. Her breath hitched, and goosebumps prickled across her skin at the sound of his voice.
Duke Matthias Von Ignaz didn't move. He sat on the edge of the bed, far too close, close enough to steal the air from her lungs. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, unblinking. Like a predator sizing up its prey, weighing whether to let it live a little longer… or devour it now.
Greta swallowed hard. Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. She shot him a glare — the sharpest she could muster — jaw clenched so tight it ached.
"You have already saved my life, didn't you? Dragged me to this mansion after scaring those bastards off?" Her voice trembled with memory, the night he'd pulled her from the clutches of men who'd meant to rob and rape her in the woods.
Matthias's lips curled into a faint smile. It was barely there, more mockery than warmth.
"That's all you think this is, Lady Von Meier? That shallow?"
Greta's fingers dug into the bedsheets, knuckles whitening. "What are you really saying, Duke Matthias?" Her voice was low, wary, searching his icy stare for answers. His smile never faltered.
"You know," he said, his words cutting through the silence.
The candle flames flickered, though no wind stirred. The sudden shift in the air made Greta shiver. Her grip on the sheets tightened, but she steadied her breath, refusing to break her composure.
Matthias leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper—cold and final.
"Sometimes, the last words before death… are the most honest. It doesn't matter if they're confessions or lies. In the end, people just want to be heard. And this time… I'm the one listening."
Greta's throat bobbed as she looked down, but her eyes snapped back to his. His gaze was sharp, merciless, yet she held it, unwilling to let herself be crushed.
"I heard you, Lady Greta Albrecht Von Meier," he murmured. "Clear as day."
"You're not God…" she whispered, voice cracking, like her soul was caught in her throat.
Matthias smiled wide now, all perfect teeth and chilling beauty. It didn't soften him. It made him terrified. "No, I'm not," he said. "But have you forgotten? God's not the only one walking this world."
He watched her, pale, trembling, perched on the edge of the bed. Her eyes still burned, defiant, daring the void to blink first. And that defiance? It thrilled him.
He moved in again, hands braced on either side of her, caging her in. His smile never wavered.
"I know everything. Your life. How you were strung up by the very man you defended, throwing away your honor for someone who never deserved it. Love hurts, doesn't it, Lady Greta?"
"Who… are you?"
"After everything you've been through, does it even matter?" His voice was soft, but there was fire behind it. "I've seen it all, even the things God kept hidden from you. Maybe it's time to redraw the lines of fate."
Greta narrowed her eyes. But before she could speak, Matthias leaned in and kissed her, brief, deliberate.
"You'll need your strength tomorrow," he said, pulling back just slightly.
But Greta wasn't done. She reached out, grabbed the sleeve of his coat with a trembling hand.
"If you know what even God wouldn't show me… then you know why I came here, Duke Matthias Von Ignaz."
His red eyes gleamed in the candlelight. The flames danced, casting shadows across the cold marble floor. The air was thick, metallic and smoky, heavy with melted wax and something darker.
Greta's hand still clutched his sleeve, shaking. But her gaze didn't flinch. She meant every word.
"You know I'm not God," Matthias said flatly. The room seemed to freeze around them.
"Sometimes, it's not God who grants humanity's darkest wishes."
He grinned again, that same bone-deep, soul-crushing grin. Greta's heart pounded. She wanted to take her words back, but it was too late. She hadn't come all the way from Ehrenwald to Eisthal just to turn back now. Her fate was already sealed, the gallows waited if she didn't see this through.
"So tell me," Matthias said, voice low and dangerous. "What's your darkest wish, Lady Von Meier?"
"They forced me to die for something I never did. They stole my freedom, crushed my soul, and turned my life into hell. Even my baby… they took him too. After all that, I don't want to see them breathing. Not after what they did."
"For a wish like that," Matthias said, "there's always a price."
Greta didn't answer right away. A price. Of course there was. And she knew exactly what it was. If she paid it, there'd be no going back. But what was the point of returning to a fate that had already betrayed her? To be Dietrich Maximillian's concubine, a man who never loved her? To be accused again and again by Ingrid Anneliese, until the noose finally claimed her? The emperor had watched her die once. He hadn't lifted a finger.
Matthias leaned in again, so close their lips nearly touched.
"Well?" he whispered. His breath was warm against her skin.
"I'll give you whatever you want," Greta said, voice breaking but firm. "I know now… that's the only price worth paying to stop the world from laughing at me."
Matthias's smile deepened, cold, seductive. He snapped his fingers.
Red lines flared across the floor, swirling into a living pattern. A pentagram blazed between them, glowing like fresh blood.
As the light grew, curved black horns erupted from Matthias's head, gleaming like obsidian. Energy cracked through the room. Fire roared along the pentagram's edges, devouring everything, even the bed beneath Greta. She panicked for a moment… but then she looked into his eyes. And the fear melted away.
"You can't take it back," Matthias said, brushing her chin with one long, black claw. "Your soul is mine now. And the life I give you… will belong to you."
Greta didn't smile. Her voice was steady, resolute.
"I won't take it back. But until my wish comes true, you won't be free of me. I'll use you however I want. No resistance. No refusal. I'll control you. And when it's done… you can devour my soul until there's nothing left."
Matthias flinched at Greta's words. It sounded like a deal no sane man would ever accept. But then he saw the fire in her eyes, unwavering, fierce, and his lips curled into another smile.
He leaned in, kissed her… then a bit down hard on her lip until it bled.
Greta winced, a sharp gasp escaping her throat. But Matthias didn't stop. He devoured her mouth, drinking in the blood like it was the finest wine. And as he tasted her pain, the pentagram beneath them flared deeper red, the flames surging higher, swallowing everything in their path. Even after he pulled away, the fire refused to die.
"You're bold, Lady Von Meier," he murmured, voice low and reverent. "And for that… I'll grant every wish you've buried in that broken heart of yours. But from this moment on, your soul belongs to me. Every command you give is a debt. And I'll make damn sure you pay for every second of it."
Greta trembled. But beneath the fear, her rage burned just as hot as the fire still raging around them. She didn't flinch. She didn't back down. And seeing that resolve, Matthias smiled again, slow, wicked, then stepped away.
And just like that, the flames vanished.
The room returned to its pristine state, untouched. Not a scorch mark in sight. The candles that had melted into nothing were whole again, flickering gently in their holders. Even the horns that had crowned the Duke's head were gone, as if they'd never existed.
"Sleep well, Lady Von Meier," he said, turning toward the door. "We've got a lot to discuss tomorrow."
His footsteps echoed down the hall, fading into the silence.
Greta sat frozen, her body still shaking. That look in his eyes… it hadn't been human. It had been something else. Something ancient. Something terrifying.
But was it more terrifying than the thought of dying on the gallows for a crime she never committed? No. Not even close.
She pulled her knees to her chest, trying to steady her breath. The room felt too big now — the silence pressing in like the walls were closing around her. No sound but her own breathing. Still. Suffocating.
"All right, Greta…" she whispered to herself, her voice firm despite the tremor. "Let's start over. Let's show Ingrid Anneliese you're not some fragile little thing destined to die the same way twice."