The house was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against my skin like a weight. I had finished tidying up my room after dinner, the faint scent of soap still lingering on my skin from my shower. My hair was damp, my body warm from the hot water, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to feel the relief of solitude. But then I sensed it—his presence. Liam was here.
The door didn't creak. He didn't knock. He simply appeared, dark eyes scanning the room like a predator assessing his territory. My pulse jumped into my throat.
"I told you not to call him," Liam murmured, his voice low, a dangerous rumble that made the hair on my arms stand on end. He stepped closer, and I instinctively shrank back, but there was nowhere to retreat. He was too close, too powerful.
Before I could form words, his hand lifted, brushing a loose strand of hair from my temple. Then, impossibly, he pressed his lips to my left cheek. The kiss was soft, almost gentle, but it carried a weight that pressed down on me, a claim that was as terrifying as it was intoxicating. My chest tightened, and my heart pounded like a wild drum.
Liam's fingers moved, tracing the line of my cheekbone, massaging the tension out of my muscles, his touch firm but not cruel. "Do you understand why you cannot speak his name?" he whispered, close enough that I could feel his breath against my skin. "Do you understand the consequences of testing me?"
I could only shake my head slightly, unable to speak. The air between us was charged, heavy with emotions I didn't want to acknowledge. Fear, confusion, and… something else. Something I could not name. Something I should deny.
"You belong to me, Fiona," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "And I will not let anyone… not my brother, not anyone, take what is mine."
The warmth of his hand remained on my cheek, firm and possessive. My skin tingled from the contact, and I felt a shiver run through me—not entirely from cold. My heart beat erratically, and my thoughts scattered. I wanted to move, to run, to push him away, but my body betrayed me. It refused.
Then, before I could brace myself, his lips met mine—not the quick, testing kiss from before, but a slow, claiming kiss. His mouth was warm, demanding, and my mind spun. Shock, fear, and… longing? It all collided inside me. My chest rose and fell rapidly, my pulse racing. I tried to pull back, but his grip on my wrist kept me tethered. He pressed closer, letting the kiss linger, a dangerous intimacy that made the room feel smaller, the world narrower, all-consuming.
When he finally pulled away, just enough to catch my trembling breaths, his eyes held mine. Dark, unreadable, and unwavering. "Sleep," he commanded. "Sleep, and remember… test me, and you will regret it."
I slumped onto the bed, exhausted, trembling from the storm of emotions swirling inside me. My skin still tingled where he had kissed me, and I could feel the memory of his fingers massaging my cheek lingering, searing into my mind. My heart felt heavy, chaotic, and my thoughts refused to settle.
He stayed in the room longer than I expected, silent but present. His gaze never left me, and I could feel the tension in his body, the unspoken warning that even if he said nothing more, the message was clear: I was his, completely and undeniably.
I curled under the covers, trying to steady my racing heart. The contradictions within me twisted and churned: I hated him, feared him, yet there was a part of me that… craved him. His presence was intoxicating, dark, overwhelming, and yet… safe in a twisted, terrifying way.
Liam finally left, silently slipping out the same way he came. The door didn't close with a creak; it simply disappeared, leaving me alone with the echoes of his warning, the lingering warmth of his touch, and the dizzying storm of desire and fear he had awakened in me.
I lay in bed for hours after, replaying the moment over and over. Every brush of his fingers, every whispered word, every kiss pressed into my cheek. My body remembered what my mind tried to reject, a dangerous memory I could not erase.
Tomorrow, I would face the family at breakfast. Grace would surely find a way to provoke me again. John… I didn't know if he would intervene, if he even noticed the tension simmering beneath the surface. But tonight, Liam's presence had reminded me of one truth: he was watching, always. Protecting in his own dark way, and claiming in ways that left me breathless.
The contradictions consumed me, heavy and unrelenting: fear and desire, hate and longing, submission and rebellion. His shadow had marked me, just as he promised. And no matter how far I thought I could run, how far I thought I could hide, it was impossible to escape the claim he had already laid on me.
I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion pull me under. My last conscious thought was the warmth of his hand on my cheek, the softness of his lips, and the undeniable, terrifying, intoxicating claim: I was his.
And in that moment, I realized—I would never truly be free from him.