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He fell silent. He stared down at me, the kind of silence that makes your skin crawl, that tells you you’ve crossed some line but you don’t know where or how far you’ve gone.

“You really want to know, little bluebird?” he whispered. His fingers flexed around my jaw, so tight I thought my bones would crack. “You want to hear what happens to girls who don’t love me? Who break things, who fight, who won’t stay?”

He yanked me upright by the hair. I tried to kick him, but my leg barely moved. He was too strong, and I was too spent.

His lips twisted. “They scream. They cry. They try to run. They always do. I tell them the rules, but they never listen.” His eyes glazed over, looking through me, not at me. “Obey, and you get love. Defy, and you get the hole. Or worse.”

He dragged me off the bed, chain rattling, my knees slamming into the hardwood. Splinters jabbed into my skin. He forced me to kneel, holding my head up like I was some trophy he’d won.

“They all think they’re strong, at first. They all think they’re special. My mother—” His whole body spasmed, his grip squeezing harder, pain flaring in my scalp. “My mother tried to leave too. She fought. She screamed. She begged. And I watched the dark take her. I watched my father break her and shatter her.”

He dropped me. My head hit the floor with a dull thud. The room spun, vision tunneling. He paced, hands in his hair, muttering to himself, voice pitching up and down. “Why do you all have to ruin it? Why can’t you just love me? Why does the dark always win?”

I tried to limp away, even though there was nowhere to go. The chain yanked me short, digging metal into my skin. Malakar saw, and in two strides he was back, crouched in front of me, eyes huge and unblinking. His whole body shook with rage, pupils blown wide.

He grabbed my arm and twisted. A scream escaped my lips. My body arched, useless and writhing. He slapped me again, then shoved me into the wall.

“You want out? You want to fight?” he spat. “I’ll make you wish you never crawled out of your mother’s body.”

He hauled me up, half-lifting, half-dragging. My feet slipped, barely scraping the floor. He slammed my back into the wall, pressing his forearm against my throat, crushing my windpipe. My lungs screamed for air. My vision went white at the edges.

He leaned in, face inches from mine, eyes wild. “Maybe I’ll just end it now. Maybe you’re not even worth the work.” His fingers flexed, tightening. I clawed at his arm, nails scraping flesh. Terror flooded me, pure and burning—this was it. This was how girls disappeared, how the dark chewed them up and left nothing behind.

Then, just as quickly, he let go. I crumpled to the floor, gasping, every breath a fresh ache. He staggered back, hands buried in his hair, pacing, cursing under his breath.

“No, no, no. Not yet. Not yet. I can fix it. I can fix you.” He rocked on his heels. His voice shifted—small, pleading, like a lost child. “Don’t leave me. Don’t make me do it. I don’t want to—I just want… I just want it to be different this time.”

I trembled, blood dripping down my face, wrists burning. My body curled into itself. I was nothing in that moment. I was another girl on the verge of vanishing.

He crouched beside me again, the rage gone, replaced with something empty and cold. He took my face in his hands, too gentle, too slow. “If you’re good, I’ll fix you. I’ll love you. Don’t ruin it, little bluebird. Don’t make me put you in the hole.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead, a parody of tenderness. I flinched, but he only smiled. “You belong to me now. Don’t forget.”

I stared at the floor, the darkness pooling, the smashed plate, the shadow of his hand on my skin. My body shuddered, but my mind drifted, drifting, trying to escape into that numb, cold place where nothing could touch me.

But I couldn’t. I was trapped here. With him. With the endless dark.

Malakar stood, looming over me. “Clean up your mess,” he ordered. “When I come back, it better be spotless. Or I’ll show you what pain really means.”

He left, the heavy door slamming shut. The echo of his rage burned in my bones.

Chapter 7

A Spell Of Darkness

Starla

The sensation of softness awakened me.

When my eyes fluttered open, the sight of a bedroom came into focus. Sitting up, I squinted in confusion. The last thing I remembered was being chained in the basement, and now I was in a bed? The walls were painted white, and there weren’t any picture frames anywhere. In fact, there was no sign of humanity.

Just a bed, a dresser, a closet, and a rocking chair. That’s when I realized I wasn’t wearing my own clothes anymore. There was a blue dress on my body with floral prints. It wasn’t a fancy dress, or a slutty dress, it was more of a casual sundress.

What the fuck?

There was a soreness in my arm still from where Malakar twisted it. Everywhere ached, and I just wanted to go home.

But where was home?