The following days—or whatever counted as days in the Abyss—were agony and ecstasy intertwined.
Every attempt at independence sent her mark flaring, and every surge of power only drew Mason closer.
He never touched her fully, but his presence alone was a weight she could not escape. She felt his obsession in her veins, in her nerves, in the very pulse of her heartbeat.
And she felt… the bond answering her own burgeoning power.
She could feel him—truly feel him—for the first time, as if the mark were no longer just his leash but a bridge between them.
The thought terrified her.
The next day, Mason appeared at the edge of her chamber. He did not speak immediately. He simply watched, silver eyes observing, calculating, consuming every detail.
"You are changing," he said finally.
"Yes," she said, defiance strong in her voice. "I am not yours to shape."
He stepped closer. The air between them burned. "You are mine in ways you do not yet understand. That is not a threat. It is a truth."
Her hands clenched into fists. "I do not care."
Mason's lips curved faintly. "Care will find you. Obsession will find you. And you will feel… what it is to belong to me."
He left without another word, and Seris collapsed against the wall, heart racing. She hated him, feared him, and yet… a dark thrill lingered in her chest, dangerous and undeniable.
For the first time, she wondered if survival would ever be enough—or if she was already trapped in his obsession.