A fresh wave of anger, cold and sharp, washes over me. He thinks he can dress me up like a doll, control even what I wear. My gaze falls on a simple, dark green cashmere sweater and a pair of tailored black trousers. They are elegant, comfortable, and utterly devoid of anything that screams "captive." A subtle rebellion. I will wear his clothes, but I will choose them.
I dress quickly, the soft cashmere a stark contrast to the rough emotions churning within me. I need to see Emily. I need to know she’s truly safe.
I walk to the bedroom door, my hand on the cold metal handle. I hesitate. He said he would remind me. He said he would make me understand who I belonged to. But he had also said I was not a prisoner, that I was free to move about my wing. A test. He is always testing me.
I open the door. The hallway is empty, silent. I walk out, my steps firm, my head held high. I will not cower. I will not hide.
I navigate the labyrinthine corridors, my memory surprisingly sharp. I retrace the path Kaden had taken me yesterday, past the grand hallways and into the guest wing. I find Emily’s suite, the door standing ajar.
I push it open gently. Emily is sitting on the edge of the bed, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed. She looks up, and a flicker of hope, then fear, crosses her face.
“Wynter!” she whispers, rushing toward me. She throws her arms around me, holding me tight. “I was so worried. I didn’t know what he would do.”
I hold her close, feeling the tremble in her body. “I’m fine, Em. I’m fine.” I pull back, looking into her eyes. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No. They were… polite. They just brought me here. And then Kaden… he told me I was a guest. But I’m not. I’m a prisoner, Wynter. Just like you.”
I nod. “I know. But we’re safe from Evilin here. For now.”
She pulls me toward the couch, urging me to sit. “What happened to you? He came back to the room, didn’t he? After I left?”
I hesitate, the memory of his touch, his words, his ultimate claim, a fresh wound. I can’t tell her everything. Not yet. She’s too fragile.
“He… he made his point,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “He made it very clear that I am his. And that I have no choice but to accept it.”
Emily shudders. “He’s terrifying, Wynter. He’s a monster.”
“I know,” I agree, my gaze falling on the opulent room. It’s beautiful, comfortable, but the bars are invisible, forged from Kaden’s will. “But he’s a monster with a plan. And we need to understand it if we’re going to survive.”
I lean closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Listen, Em. We have to play his game. We have to make him think we’re compliant. But we’re not. We’re going to watch. We’re going to listen. And we’re going to find a way out of here.”
Emily’s eyes widen, a flicker of her old fire returning. “A way out? But… he said there’s no escape.”
“There’s always a way,” I insist, a fierce determination hardening my voice. “He thinks he has me trapped in his fairytale. But he doesn’t know that I fight back.”
Suddenly, the door to the suite swings open. Kaden stands there, his expression unreadable. Alrik is behind him, holding a small duffel bag.
“Emily,” Kaden says, his voice flat. “Your ride is waiting. You’re going home.”
Emily gasps, looking from Kaden to me, then back to Kaden. “Home? But… I thought…”
“You are no longer needed here,” Kaden interrupts, his gaze fixed on me. “Your purpose has been served. Alrik will ensure your safe passage back to the city. You will be monitored, of course. For your own protection.”
My heart sinks. He’s sending her away. He’s severing my last link to the outside world. He’s isolating me completely.
Emily looks at me, her eyes wide with desperation. “Wynter?”
I meet her gaze, a silent message passing between us.Be safe. Live. Remember.
“Go, Em,” I say, my voice steady, though my heart is breaking. “Go home. Be careful.”
Alrik steps forward, gently taking Emily’s arm. She casts one last, terrified look at me, then allows herself to be led away. The door closes behind them, leaving me utterly, completely alone with Kaden.
He walks into the room, his eyes never leaving mine. “Now,” he says, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Where were we, Snowflake? Ah, yes. You were telling me how you plan to fight back.”
I stare at him, my mind a chaotic swirl of fear, anger, and a terrifying, undeniable attraction. He is a monster. He is my captor. And he has just removed the last obstacle to his absolute control. But in doing so, he has also solidified my resolve. He thinks he has isolated me. He thinks he has weakened me.
He is wrong.
