The guard finished cleaning the floor and retreated silently, leaving the two of us alone again.
Izo stood and offered me his hand. “Go clean yourself up,” he said gently. “We’ll go down to dinner after.”
I nodded numbly, letting him pull me to my feet. My legs were shaky, but I managed to steady myself as I moved toward the bathroom.
As I closed the door behind me, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes wide and glassy.
I leaned over the sink, gripping the edges tightly as I stared at my reflection.
This isn’t me.
The thought came again, unbidden and unrelenting. I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to push it away, but it lingered like a shadow in the back of my mind.
For a moment, I let myself think about Raffaele. About the cabin, and how he’d looked at me, how he’d made me feel.
The pain came back instantly, sharp and unforgiving. I gasped, clutching at the sink as the compulsion from Izo reasserted itself, smothering every other thought.
The whispers in my mind, the voice that wasn’t my own but somehow felt too familiar, urged me to stop resisting.
No.
I pressed my hands against the cool sink and tried to push the voice away. I had to think. My memory was fragmented, like shards of a broken mirror, but the faintest glimmer of knowledge surfaced.
How could I sever my tie to Izo?
My hand moved instinctively to the back of my pants, pulling out the steak knife I’d hidden earlier. The blade gleamed in the dim light, its edge sharp and unforgiving.
I had to work quickly.
Rolling up my sleeve, I pressed the knife to my wrist. My heart pounded as I traced the invisible rune Izo had traced in the sand. If I could cut it out, maybe I could weaken the compulsion and help Raffaele.
The moment the blade broke my skin, the compulsion roared to life.
Pain exploded through me, radiating from my hand and spreading like wildfire across my entire body. I cried out, the sound torn from my throat as I collapsed to my knees. The knife clattered to the floor as searing agony consumed me.
Izo’s voice in my mind grew louder, insidious and cruel.Why are you fighting, Vivian? Don’t you see how much easier it is to give in?
I clutched my head, rocking back and forth as the pain intensified. “No,” I whispered through gritted teeth. “I won’t. You can’t make me.”
Oh, but I can.
The bathroom spun around me, the whispers sinking deeper into my mind. The compulsion tightened its grip, smothering every thought, every shred of resistance.
“Vivian.”
I gasped, my body trembling as the lock on the bathroom door clicked open.
Izo stood in the doorway, his silver eyes alight with a mix of disappointment and triumph. He stepped inside, his presence immediately overwhelming, and the compulsion surged again, flooding me with warmth and submission that I didn’t want to feel.
“You’ve been very naughty,” he said softly, his tone almost playful. “What were you thinking, my dear?”
I couldn’t answer. My throat was too tight, tears streaming down my face as I curled into myself.
He crouched down beside me and lifted my chin. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice smooth and irresistible.
I obeyed, my body moving against my will. His touch was deceptively gentle, his fingers brushing away my tears as if he cared.
“You shouldn’t fight me, Vivian. It only makes things worse for you.”
