Page 35

THIRTY-FIVE

Ember

“Time for your orientation.” Wolfe’s hand settles on my lower back, steering me toward a private elevator at the back of his office. His touch burns through the thin silk of my shirt, each finger a brand of ownership.

The elevator doors slide open silently, revealing a steel cage wrapped in luxury. Mirrors line three walls, multiplying our reflections infinitely—Wolfe’s immaculate suit, my borrowed elegance, a thousand versions of predator and prey stretching into forever.

“Beautiful things require sacrifice.” He pulls a key card from his breast pocket. The elevator hums to life and descends. “You understand that better than most.”

Numbers tick down on the display. 30… 25… 20… Each floor takes us deeper beneath the glittering facade of his empire. The air grows colder and heavier.

“Your previous life, selling candles on street corners, is beneath you.” His cold gaze meets mine in the mirror. “I’m offering you greatness. Power. Everything you never dared dream of.”

15… 10… 5…

The temperature drops just as quickly as the elevator. My skin prickles, remembering other cold places, other cages.

“Of course, power requires precision. Control.” His fingers trace my shoulder, following the line from my collarbone to my throat. “One wrong move, one slip…” His grip tightens fractionally. “Well, let’s just say Mr. Hawkins wouldn’t survive my disappointment.”

The elevator slows. Stops. B5.

Steel groans as the doors part, revealing a corridor that could have been transplanted from my nightmares. Industrial lights cast sickly shadows across concrete walls, and the antiseptic smell barely masks something darker underneath.

“Welcome,” Wolfe’s smile stretches wide, triumph gleaming in his eyes, “to where it all begins.”

Heavy doors line the corridor, each bearing a keypad lock. Our footsteps echo, a grim drumbeat counting down to something inevitable. At the end, a final door stands open, spilling harsh light into the hall.

“After you, little flame.” His hand slides to my neck, gentle but immovable. “Time to see what you’re capable of.”

Beyond the threshold, darkness gives way to rows of cells, and the real nightmare begins.

Darkness bleeds through the warehouse, casting long shadows across rows of metal tables. Girls huddle on thin mattresses in makeshift cells, their eyes vacant, spirits already broken. The air hangs thick with fear and despair, a familiar stench that turns my stomach.

“Your first lesson in selection.” Wolfe’s hand presses against my lower back, guiding me down the row. His touch burns through the silk blouse, a constant reminder of his control. “Tell me what you see.”

My heels click against the concrete, each step an echo of surrender. These girls…God, they’re so young. Faces blur together, a kaleidoscope of terror I recognize too well.

“This one.” He stops before a cell where a girl, maybe thirteen, glares up at us. Defiance radiates from her rigid spine and clenched fists. “What do you see, little flame?”

The girl’s eyes meet mine, a familiar fire burning there. My chest constricts. I was her once.

“She’s still fighting.” The words scrape my throat.

“Yes.” Pleasure drips from his voice. “And how would you break her?”

My blood turns to ice. This is the test—prove my loyalty or watch Blaze suffer.

Time. I need to buy more time.

“You don’t.” I force steel into my voice. “Not directly. She’ll resist, fight harder. Instead…” Bile rises, but I swallow it down. “Instead, you break the others in front of her. Make her watch helplessly until that fire turns to ash.”

It’s precisely what he’s doing to me, and damn if it isn’t effective.

Wolfe’s laughter sends chills down my spine. His fingers dig into my hip, possessive and proud. “Brilliant. You understand the psychology perfectly.” His breath ghosts across my ear. “You see? This is why you’re invaluable. You know their minds, their hearts.”

A guard approaches with a tablet in hand. “Sir, the new shipment?—”

“Not now.” Wolfe’s voice cracks like a whip. His grip tightens, fingernails biting through silk. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a lesson?”

The guard retreats, but not before I catch a flicker of fear in his eyes. Wolfe’s control is slipping—the measured facade cracking to reveal something darker, more unstable.

“Now, where were we?” He spins me to face him, his winter eyes fever-bright, unyielding. “Ah, yes. Selection.”

His thumb traces my lower lip, a mockery of tenderness that makes my skin crawl. I fight the urge to recoil, to tear myself away from his grip, but I know better—any sign of weakness would be a triumph for him.

“You’ll help identify the promising ones. The fighters, the survivors. Like calls to like, after all.”

Behind him, the girl watches, her wide eyes a reflection of my own fear. Her lips part, but no sound escapes—just a silent plea, a message that settles in my chest like a stone.

Hold on. Stay strong. Survive.

“The ones with grit are special,” Wolfe continues, his voice almost coaxing, as if explaining something sacred. “Like you, Ember. They’re the ones worthy of training, worthy of becoming something greater.” He pauses, his smile widening, teeth white and predatory. “Something special.”

My stomach twists, my voice barely a whisper. “Training for what?”

His smile doesn’t falter, but there’s something cold and final in his gaze. “To be the perfect companions for my wealthy clients.” He tilts his head, studying my reaction with a casualness that makes my blood boil. “Those who lack grit—those already broken—will be sold as chattel. There’s no place for weakness.”

The room tilts and bile rises in my throat. The words slam into me, each one a new horror. Companions. Chattel. My disgust wells up, almost blinding me, and fear knots itself into every inch of my body, a cold, merciless grip.

“You’re a monster,” I manage, my voice cracking, raw with the revulsion that surges through me.

He laughs, a low, condescending sound that echoes in the emptiness of the room. He leans in, his breath brushing against my ear, his whisper almost intimate.

“I may be a monster, my love, but you’re the real Frankenstein. After all, it’s you who will create them—under my guidance, of course. You are my companion, my love.”

The words twist into something more, a chilling promise of what he wants me to become, and I realize with a jolt that “my little flame” was never the endgame. He wants all of me—control, obedience, and something that churns my stomach in a way that feels almost like possession.

My gaze flicks back to the girl. Her wide, frightened eyes cling to me, her small frame trembling as Wolfe continues to speak, oblivious or indifferent to her terror.

The weight of what he’s saying settles in—a fate sealed for her, no spark, no fight. She’ll be sold.

But the boys …

I force myself to ask, my voice tight, barely masking the dread.

“And the boys? What do you intend for them?”

Wolfe’s eyes glint, and he smiles, almost as if pleased with my question. “The strong ones will be groomed to be my foot soldiers—my loyal, obedient enforcers.” He pauses, letting the words hang, the intent behind them chilling. “The weaker ones… Well, they have their uses as well.” He shrugs, the casualness of the gesture slicing through me, and I feel a fresh wave of nausea hit.

I clench my jaw, shaking my head, the words spilling from me before I can stop them. “You expect too much from me. I can’t?—”

“Ah, but you will, my love,” Wolfe interrupts smoothly, his voice slipping back into that false, twisted tenderness. He raises a hand, cupping my cheek, his thumb grazing my skin. “You see, you have no choice. You’re special, Ember. You’ll make them, mold them, just as I will mold you. Together, we’ll create something remarkable.”

My heart pounds, the revulsion so strong it threatens to overwhelm me, but I force myself to keep my expression even, my eyes locking onto his.

“Of course.” I lean into his touch, feeling bile rise in my throat, but I shove it down, playing my role. “I understand what you’re building now.”

“Do you?” His smile stretches wider, manic energy rolling off him in waves. “Tell me.”

“An army.” The word tastes like poison. “Not just trafficking victims. You’re creating weapons. Soldiers forged in pain, loyal only to you.”

“Yes.” His hands frame my face, grip bruising. “You see it. You understand and proved my theory. The best weapons are the ones who fight the hardest to survive.”

Madness dances in his eyes, decades of obsession crystallizing into this moment. He pulls me closer until his cologne fills my lungs, suffocating me.

“You’ll be my masterpiece.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks, a parody of tenderness. “My perfect weapon, teaching others to embrace their darkness. And when you’re ready…” He gestures to the rows of cells. “All of this will be yours to command.”

A sob echoes from one of the cells. Wolfe’s head snaps toward the sound, nostrils flaring. “Silence!”

The word bounces off concrete walls. Several girls flinch. The one we stood before doesn’t—her eyes stay locked on mine, searching for something.

Hope? Strength?

A sign that I’m not a monster too?

“They need discipline.” Wolfe’s composure returns, but something feral lingers in his gaze. “Perhaps it’s time for your first real test. Show me how you’d handle disobedience.”

Time stretches like a tripwire. Whatever I do next will echo through these cells, through these lives, but Blaze’s team is coming.

They have to be.

He said they would find us.

Until then, I dance on the edge of a knife.

“Not yet.” I touch his arm, drawing his attention back. “Let me study them first. Learn their patterns and their weaknesses. You’ve waited years for this—why rush?”

His expression softens, pride replacing rage. “Always the tactician. Yes, observe first. Break them later.” His fingers card through my hair, proprietary. “We have all the time in the world, little flame. All the time in the world.”

Behind us, the girl’s eyes never waver. She sees through my act and recognizes the game I’m playing. Her slight nod is almost imperceptible.

She’ll keep fighting. They all will.

And so will I—until Blaze comes or until I burn this whole empire down.

Whichever comes first.