Page 24

秘?Dark Secrets Unveiled

Dorian

She didn’t try to run this time.

No, Ember Carr was smarter than that.

She waited, patient, cunning, until I left her unsupervised in the solarium, sunlight slanting through the glass in golden bars like prison stripes. I gave her freedom. Within reason. Let her explore the manor, talk to the staff, feel like she had a choice.

I should’ve known she’d test the limits.

The moment she slipped out of view, the house told me.

The doors whispered. The wards stirred. And I felt her presence where it should not have been.

The west wing.

I’d told her once, once, not to go near it.

It’s not locked because it doesn’t need to be. The house has its own defenses. But it let her in. For me.

By the time I reached the corridor, I could hear her footsteps echoing down the marble hall, slow and tentative. The air grew colder the deeper she wandered. Older. More awake. That wing was hungry, and I was pissed.

I found her with her fingers brushing the edge of the carved door that led to the kill room.

My sanctuary.

My altar.

“Ember.”

She froze.

Her back stiffened. Her hand dropped.

She didn’t turn around.

Good. She knew.

I stepped forward, slow and precise. My voice was calm, but it was the kind of calm you hear right before the storm guts the city.

“I told you one thing. One thing I didn’t allow. And you couldn’t help yourself.”

She turned then, slowly, chin lifted like defiance was armor and I wasn’t already peeling it away.

“You said not to go in,” she said. “You didn’t say why.”

“I don’t owe you why.”

Her lips curled slightly. “Then maybe you shouldn’t keep so many locked doors in a house you pretend is mine, too.”

That hit something sharp and unhealed inside me.

I moved before she could blink.

Backed her against the wall with my hand pressed beside her head, body caging hers in. Not touching, but close enough that she could taste how dangerous I was.

Close enough she could feel the war I was barely containing.

“That room,” I said softly, “is where I become the thing you think you’re ready for. And you are not.”

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

God, I wanted to ruin her for that.

“I’ve seen what you do, Dorian,” she whispered. “That room won’t scare me.”

“No,” I murmured, lowering my head until our mouths hovered a breath apart, “but what’s inside it might recognize you. And once it does… you won’t leave the same.”

She stared up at me, heartbeat thudding like a drum between us. I knew she wanted to speak. Knew she wanted to push me, provoke me. Maybe even tempt fate.

But she didn’t.

And that silence? That charged, defiant silence?

It was enough to make me want to drag her inside and let her see everything.

Instead, I stepped back.

Barely.

My eyes never left hers. “You don’t get to lie to this house. It watches for me. And it told me you were trespassing.”

“You’re insane,” she breathed, voice shaky now.

“No,” I said. “I’m careful.” I tilted my head, studying her. “You don’t get to pick and choose the parts of me you can survive. If you want to stay alive in my world, you’ll follow my rules.”

“And if I don’t?”

I smiled. Slow. Dark. “Then the house won’t whisper next time.”

I reached past her, gently taking her wrist, not to restrain, but to guide, and led her away from the door.

Not because I forgave her.

Because I needed her to understand how far she was allowed to fall before I stopped catching her.

And right now?

She was still mine to catch.

But barely.

I marched her to my study because obviously, she needed to see more in order to believe me.

Once inside, I made her sit down in a nearby chair while I paced the floor.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I finally spoke, my voice low and heavy. It’s a question I’d been meaning to ask her for a while now. A question I’d been dying to make her answer. I watched her shift, her body language stiffening. “You’ve seen just a glimpse, but you have no idea how dark it is.”

Her eyes met mine, sharp, defiant. "I’m not scared of you or how dark things can get. I’ve already seen the darkest of dark."

I chuckled darkly, letting the sound fill the room. “There are things out there you know nothing about.”

She narrowed her eyes, probably expecting more threats, more empty promises, but this wasn’t the time for that. Not yet.

Instead, I crossed the room slowly, my movements deliberate, like I was savoring every moment. The tension between us thickened with every step. I could feel it, her pulse quickening, her breath stuttering just slightly as I approached.

“Let me show you something,” I said, my voice a soft whisper, but it's a command, not an offer. I placed a hand on the table, leaning over it, eyes never leaving hers. “You think you’ve seen evil? You think you know what it feels like to be evil?”

I watched her lips part, her breath catching, but she didn't speak. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

I moved closer, just enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin, close enough to touch her if I wanted to. But I didn’t. Not yet.

Instead, I pulled out a small vial from my pocket. It was simple, glass, black, the kind of thing no one would think twice about.

But she would. She’d feel it the moment I held it up to the light.

“This,” I said softly, watching her closely, “is blood magic. A gift I don’t share often, but I think you’re ready to see it.”

Her eyes flickered to the vial, and I smiled. She was intrigued, but also scared. And I liked that. I liked how she tried to mask it, but I saw everything. Every little tremor in her pulse, the slight tightening of her throat.

“You killed someone,” she said, the words sharp, accusatory. It wasn’t a question, it was a fact. And she’s right. I did. But that’s just the beginning of the story.

I set the vial on the table, then looked at her, letting the silence build. “Not just someone,” I murmured. “You’ve seen it. You walked in on it. That man you saw me kill?” I let the words hang in the air between us. “His name was Milo. He was a predator. A monster. And I’m the one who ended him.”

Her gaze shifted, uncertain. I could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. She wanted to fight me. She wanted to challenge everything I say. But I wasn’t done yet.

“I could tell you all the things he did, how he hurt those boys, how he disposed of them like they were nothing. But you don’t need to hear the details. You can see it for yourself.”

I raised my hand, just a flick of my fingers, and the vial began to glow. The shadows in the room stirred, alive, moving toward me, pulling the blood from the vial into the air. Ember didn’t move, didn't even blink, but I saw the way her breath hitched, the way her lips trembled.

I spoke the words softly, my voice low and intimate as the images began to form in the air before us.

The blood twisted and coiled into shapes, and slowly, the scene became clear. The victims. The violence. Their faces, twisted in terror, appeared before her eyes.

I watched her face closely as the scene played out, as she saw the truth. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped.

I let her see it all. Let her feel it. The darkness. The horror.

And when it was over, when the last of the vision faded into nothingness, I stepped back. I didn’t need to say anything. I could see the fear in her eyes, the weight of what she’s just seen sinking in. She’s breathing heavier now, her body trembling slightly.

Her voice cracked when she spoke, but it was steady. “You’re a monster.”

I smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

I stood in front of her, letting the silence fall between us like a shroud. I was still close, so close I could feel her heat against my skin. It’s dangerous, this tension, but I couldn’t seem to help it.

“Now, tell me,” I murmured, my voice thick with desire, “do you still think you know what evil is?”

She looked at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she’s just been thrown into the deep end of a pool. She couldn’t look away from me, not with the weight of everything I’d just shown her.

And that’s what I want. I wanted her to be enthralled , even if it was against her will.

Her lips trembled, and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

And that’s when I did it. I pressed closer. The air between us thickened, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken. I placed my hand on her shoulder, the contact light but electric, sending a shock through both of us.

"You're scared," I whispered, my lips brushing her ear. "But you're also curious. Aren’t you, Ember?"

She inhaled sharply, her breath hitting my skin like fire. Her eyes were wild, something primal in them, something that made the beast in me growl.

“You don’t know how much you want this,” I murmured, my voice low and tempting. “You don’t know how much you want me.”

She stiffened, but I could see the flicker of something darker in her gaze. The way she swallowed hard, the way she’s drawn to me despite herself. She hated it, but she couldn’t look away.

“You’ve been chasing something your whole life, haven’t you?” I continued, stepping closer, letting my breath mingle with hers. “You think you know what you want, but you have no idea, Ember. You don’t know what you’re really capable of until you give in.”

“I’m not like you,” she whispered, but it was uncertain. The words didn’t ring true.

I leaned in even closer, my lips grazing her ear. "You will be," I murmured. "We all are. And I'll make sure you're mine."

She shuddered, and it was all the answer I needed.

Before I did something stupid, I took her back to her room and locked her in. “Your privileges have been revoked. Goodnight.”