“For Snowflake,” I correct him, my voice firm. “She is not a prisoner, Alrik. She is a queen in the making. And queens require stimulation.”
He nods, a strange look in his eyes. He knows I’m playing a game he doesn’t fully comprehend.Good.He doesn’t need to. He just needs to execute.
I turn back to the screen. Wynter is now listening intently to Emily, her expression softening with concern. Emily is crying again, her shoulders shaking.
This is the next phase. Wynter has her friend. A piece of her old life. But that piece is now entirely within my control. Emily is a tether, a chain that binds Wynter even more tightly to me.
Wynter will learn that her comfort, her safety, and the safety of those she cares about, are entirely dependent on her obedience. She will learn that my darkness is not just a threat, but also a sanctuary. And in that sanctuary, she will find a power she never knew she possessed. A power that will allow her to embrace the darkness, and ultimately, to destroy the evil that once tormented her.
Twenty Two
Wynter
TheconversationwithEmilyis a blur of tears and frantic whispers. She’s terrified, confused, and utterly lost. I try to explain, to reassure her that Kaden is protecting her, evenas the words taste like ash in my mouth.How can I explain that our captor is also our unlikely savior? That the monster who stole my freedom has now extended his gilded cage to encompass my only friend?
Emily clings to me, her small hands clutching at my cashmere sweater. “He says I can’t leave, Wynter. He says I’m a guest, but I’m a prisoner.”
“We both are,” I whisper, stroking her hair. “But he’s right, Emily. Evilin… she’s after you. She thinks you know where I am. You’re safer here. With me.”
The words feel like a lie, even as I speak them.Safer? In a compound run by a man who controls every aspect of my existence? A man who makes my body betray me with a single touch?
A knock at the door, sharp and authoritative, makes us both jump. Kaden enters, his gaze sweeping over us, a possessive gleam in his eyes. He’s flanked by two of his men, silent, watchful shadows.
“Emily,” he says, his voice firm, but not unkind. “Alrik will show you to your suite. You will have everything you need. Wynter will join you later.”
Emily looks at me, her eyes wide with fear. “Wynter?”
I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay, Em. I’ll be there soon.”
She hesitates, then allows Alrik to gently guide her out of the room. The door closes, and I’m left alone with Kaden. The air crackles with unspoken tension.
He walks toward me, his gaze intense, unwavering. “You handled that well, Snowflake.”
I meet his eyes, my chin lifting in defiance. “She’s terrified. You terrified her.”
“She will adapt,” he says, dismissing my accusation with a wave of his hand. “She is safe. That is all that matters.” He stopsdirectly in front of me, his presence overwhelming. “Now, it’s time for you to return to your own room.”
My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My room. The one I’ve been sharing with him. The one where he kissed me, where he commanded me into his bed.
I try to keep my voice steady. “I thought I was staying in the guest suite with Emily.”
A slow, predatory smile spreads across his lips. “Emily is a guest. You, Snowflake, are not. You are mine. And you belong in my bed.”
He reaches out, his hand gently cupping my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek. His touch sends a shiver through me, a dangerous mix of fear and a strange, undeniable longing.
“Come,” he murmurs, his voice a low, hypnotic command. “Let’s go home.”
He takes my hand, his fingers strong and warm, engulfing mine. He leads me out of the guest wing, not back to the conservatory, but deeper into the private quarters of the compound. Every step feels like a surrender, a deeper descent into his world.
We enter his bedroom, the vast, opulent space now feeling less like a prison and more like… something else. Something intimate. Something dangerous.
He walks to the massive bed, pulling back the heavy comforter. He gestures to the empty space beside him. “Your side, Snowflake.”
My breath catches in my throat. My side. He’s claiming me. Not just as a captive, but as a partner. A constant presence in his most private space.
I walk to the bed, my legs feeling heavy, almost detached from my body. I slip under the covers, the silk sheets cool against my skin. He lies down beside me, his presence a warm, solidweight. He doesn’t touch me, but the air between us is thick with unspoken desire, with the weight of his claim.
He turns on his side, facing me, his gaze intense. “You will learn to trust me, Wynter,” he says, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. “You will learn that my darkness is not a cage, but a shield. And you will learn to embrace the power that comes with it.”
