Seris Vale stood in the heart of the Abyss, the walls around her rippling with shadows that responded to her every pulse. The mark on her chest burned brighter than ever, a silver thread of Mason's obsession woven through her soul, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Fear and power mingled inside her like fire and ice, and she clenched her fists, unwilling to admit just how intoxicating it was.
"You are reckless," Mason's voice cut through the darkness, threading directly into her mind. She froze, shivering. He did not appear immediately, yet his presence pressed against her like gravity. Every shadow seemed to bend toward him, recognizing the bond he claimed and the defiance she carried.
"I am not reckless!" she snapped, voice echoing off the black stone walls. "I am learning. I am surviving. I am—"
"You are mine," he interrupted softly, yet the words carried the weight of mountains and storms. "Every heartbeat, every spark of defiance… mine. Do you feel it? The Abyss knows it. I know it. You cannot escape it, Seris. And you will not."
She flinched as the heat of the mark flared violently. His obsession pressed into her chest like a living thing, and she wanted to resist, to pull away, to scream—but a small, traitorous part of her wanted the pull, the tether, the dangerous intimacy of it.
Before she could respond, the shadows erupted. From the darkness came the emissaries of rival gods, twisted forms that moved with a precision only centuries of hatred could forge. Their eyes glowed with molten gold and crimson fire. They had tracked the pulse of her awakening power and the mark that tethered her to Mason.
Seris lifted her hands, summoning tendrils of shadow that twisted like living serpents. They lashed out, striking the closest of the immortals with deadly precision. Her power had grown overnight, it seemed, fed by her fear, her rage, and the pulse of Mason's obsession threading through her veins.
Mason emerged from the darkness then, moving like a predator, coiling shadows around himself. He did not take her power from her—he amplified it, guiding, protecting, tethering. His silver eyes glimmered with obsession and admiration, and a shiver ran down Seris's spine at the intimacy of it.
"You are defiant," he whispered, leaning just close enough that his presence pressed against her senses like fire. "And I adore it. Every act of rebellion, every spark of independence… it belongs to me."
"I am not yours!" she spat, trying to push against the tether, even as the mark throbbed violently, pressing her into him. "I am not—"
"Shhh," Mason murmured, brushing a strand of shadowy hair from her face. His voice softened, seductive and terrifying. "You are mine whether you realize it or not. Every heartbeat you resist… only binds you closer to me. Do you feel it? The pull?"
Seris gasped, her breath catching as the shadows responded violently to the bond between them, striking at the immortals with renewed ferocity. They screamed as darkness tore through them, but more were coming. The Abyss quivered as if in warning, alive and aware of the collision of powers, obsessions, and ancient bloodlines.
"Enough," Mason growled suddenly, stepping forward. His shadows surged violently, striking down several of the remaining immortals in a single motion. He did not touch her, yet the heat of him pressed against her, suffocating, thrilling, intoxicating. "Do you understand, Seris? You survive because I allow it. You are mine. And every spark of defiance only makes you more… beautiful. Dangerous. Perfect."
Seris's chest heaved. Fear, rage, and something darker twisted together inside her. She hated him. She feared him. And yet, she wanted him—the tether, the obsession, the dark intimacy of it all. She swallowed hard, realizing she could never escape Mason, and perhaps, terrifyingly, she did not want to.
The Abyss itself seemed to lean closer, shadows curling around them like silent witnesses, recognizing the bond forming between god and mortal, defiance and obsession, power and desire.
For the first time, Seris understood the full depth of her predicament. She was not just surviving the Abyss. She was awakening. And Mason's obsession was a fire she could neither escape nor resist.