“Show me,” I demand. “Show me what he did to you.”
“Aria—”
“Show. Me.”
His smile turns razor sharp, all bitter edges and self-loathing. “Go on. Ask me again. Ask me what I know about your parents’ research. About any of it.”
“Fine.” I step closer, refusing to back down. “What do you know?”
“Your parents were working on—”
The rest doesn’t come. It can’t. Panic widens his eyes before he folds, a guttural scream dragged from the depths of a man burning alive. Black veins rupture across his skin, spreading up his throat in a frenzy of sentient rot. I stumble back as his hands tear at his chest, nails splitting cloth and flesh in a useless attempt to dig the infection free.
He staggers into the desk, the edge cracking against his spine with a dull thud. Dom collapses, curling inward. His shirt rides up, revealing symbols gouged into his ribs, still pulsing, still raw, the flesh seared as though molten iron had burned it there. Veins writhe toward the marks, siphoning blood and drinking down his agony.
“Stop,” I whisper, horror crushing my chest as I realize what I’ve done. “Please. I take it back. You don’t have to say anything, just—gods, please stop.”
The contract doesn’t care. It was made to silence, to torture, to own. Smoke coils from his skin, the acrid stench of burned flesh fillingthe air. His mouth stays shut, jaw locked. He refuses to scream. He won’t give Kian the satisfaction.
And that’s when it hits me.
It’s me.I’m the trigger. My questions. My presence. What Kian did to him—he built the punishment aroundme. Made me the knife twisting in Dom’s gut.
I drop to my knees beside him. “Dom. Please. Please stop trying.”
The magic recedes slow, reluctant, clinging to him as it goes. When it finally releases, he collapses sideways, one arm shaking as he drags himself upright against the desk. Sweat slicks his throat. Blood glistens on his lip where his teeth tore the flesh.
“Get off me.” He shoves away my reaching hands, stumbling to his feet. His breath comes in ragged, unsteady bursts. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”
“Dom—”
“I said get off!” He hurls the decanter at the wall. Crystal and liquor spray across the floor. “You want to know what happened? What dear old Dad did when I refused?” His laugh scrapes out, empty of humor. “Three days. That’s how long he worked on me. Broke me down cell by cell, made me bleed for every breath. Raze and Kane screwed up a shipment, and he . . .” His voice thins. “And Melody? Sweet, terrified Melody, who spilled his drink? He forced my hand. Told me if I didn’t mark her clean, he’d let his guards have her instead. Called it a lesson in leadership.”
His hands won’t stop shaking, and he doesn’t bother to hide it. “I thought I could handle it,” he snarls, eyes wild. “Thought I could play his game long enough to keep you safe. Just follow orders. Be useful. Be good.”
His voice breaks on the last word.
“You are good, you—”
“I am not!” He roars. “I let him hollow me out. Trained like a rabid dog, obedient enough to maul on command but too scared to speak without permission. I hurt my own people because I was too weak to find another way.”
He sinks down the desk, shaking, legs askew, arms locked for balance. Blood slips from his nose, staining his collar. His body thrums with lingering magic, shuddering in the wake of it.
I kneel in front of him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“No,” he says hoarsely. “No, this was always going to happen. Because I’m fucking useless.”
“How long?”
“Does it matter?” He scrubs a hand through his hair, leaving it wild and disheveled. “I’m useless to you. That’s the part that matters. I’m a blade now, and he’s got the hilt pointed straight at your heart.”
Fury tears through me, raw and unrelenting. The paperweight is in my grip before I know it, and then it’s smashing into the wall, the impact jarring through my bones. For a heartbeat, it feels good.
Glass and crystal splinter across the floor. I seize another, then a vase, then whatever my hands can close around. Every crash fuels the rage clawing through me, a savage need to destroy, to see something fracture as completely as we have.
“More?” Dom’s voice drips with dark invitation. He circles the office, a shadow placing precious things in my hands. “Don’t stop now, love. Go on. Break it all.”
The destruction is intoxicating. My magic crackles through the ruby, making the remaining crystals hum and vibrate. Every shatter, every impact, every burst of glass and luxury gives me something I didn’t know I needed. It isn’t only rage. It’s grief. It’s despair. It’s the black hollowness of knowing we are nothing but beautifully decorated pawns.
