The first thing I felt was the cold. Not the normal kind , this one felt alive, crawling under my skin, settling in my bones.
When I opened my eyes, the world was too bright. Gold light, candle smoke, shadows moving where they shouldn't. A violin played somewhere far away, soft and wrong, like it was mourning something.
My head was heavy. My body didn't feel like mine. I tried to move and felt silk slide under my hands. The feeling of the dress was nothing like my wedding dress. Had it been changed? i didn't know. A streak of cold sweat ran down my spine.
"What the hell…" I whispered. My voice sounded small.
A lace veil brushed against my face I wasn't wearing one when i left the venue so why did i have one right now? I pushed it up and froze.
The hall around me looked like a cathedral twisted into something else — candles everywhere, black suits lined along the walls. Every man in the room stood still, heads slightly bowed. Watching. Waiting.
My pulse stuttered. "Where am I?"
One of them moved toward the front, a tall man with slicked-back hair and a book in his hands. His voice echoed as he said, "She's awake."
The music stopped.
Dozens of eyes turned toward me at once.
Panic hit me like a wave. I stumbled to my feet, grabbed the edge of the chair to steady myself. "Who are you people? What is this?"
No one spoke, they just watched intently until the doors at the far end opened and a man walked in.
The air changed the second he did. Every man in the room straightened. I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. He was tall, built like he could break someone just by touching them. His suit was black, his tie undone, his hair still damp from rain. And those eyes… they didn't look at me, they assessed me. Like a thing he already owned.
He stopped a few feet away. I could smell smoke and rain on him.
"You weren't supposed to be awake yet," he said quietly, almost disappointed.
My mouth went dry. "Who are you?"
He ignored the question, lifted a hand, and brushed the veil back fully as if examining his prey. His fingers were ice against my skin, and shudders went down my body. "You are all cleaned up."
They did this? I felt bile rising in my throat.
I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me." My voice was shaky. "Where is Holan? Why did you bring me here?"
Something flickered behind his eyes, amusement, maybe? "Talking about your lover in my presence? You are too bold, aren't you?"
I saw it, it was useless reasonign with him. So I turned to run. My heels clattered against the floor, echoing too loudly. But before I even reached the door, two men stepped in front of me. Another pair blocked the sides. I spun around, heart hammering.
"Let me go!" I screamed. "What the hell is this place!"
He didn't raise his voice. Didn't even look angry. He just started walking toward me, slow and steady. Every step made the room feel smaller.
"You're in my house," he said finally. "And this—" his gaze swept over the candles, the altar, the priest "—is your wedding."
I shook my head hard. "No. You're insane. I don't even know you!"
"You don't need to."
I tried to back away, but hit the marble pillar behind me. His shadow fell over mine.
He leaned close, his voice low enough to cut through my shaking breath. "You move again, and I'll have them break your legs. Do you understand me?" his hand was on my neck now, His fingers were too cold for a normal person's.d his thumb rubbed against my neck as if he was to snap it any moment.
I froze. My throat closed up. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out.
He smiled — a small, cruel smile. "Good," he said, and then he moved away. "Bring her here," he said, and the guards dragged me by the arms.
The man with the book started reading something. Words that sounded like vows, but they didn't feel holy. They felt like a curse.
I tried again, voice trembling. "I don't want this. You can't just force me—"
He reached out, grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You took my threat lightly, didn't you?" He turned slightly. In that moment, something stirred in me.
I tried to hit him. I actually did; my palm connected with his chest. For one stupid second, I thought I'd startled him. Then his hand caught my wrist and twisted until I gasped in pain.
"Filthy bastard!" I cursed at him. Tears stung my eyes. "You're a monster."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was saying something obvious. "You are lucky I need you in one piece," he then tugged on my hand
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver ring, simple, too clean. He held it between his fingers and slipped it onto my hand before I could pull away.
"There," he said softly. "Now you're mine."
The men in black bowed their heads. The violin started playing again, low and mournful.
I stared at the ring, trembling, my breath catching on the edge of a sob.
He leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear, his voice smooth and cold."Only death can do us part."
My blood ran cold.
He pulled away like nothing had happened, tilting his head slightly. The movement was small, almost lazy, but his men reacted instantly. Two of them walked up beside me, their gloved hands clamping down on my arms.
"Let go of me, you animal!" I shouted, thrashing in their grip. "Do you even know what you're doing? I'll report you! I swear I will!"
They didn't flinch. Not even a blink.
Tears blurred my vision as they started dragging me back down the aisle. My heels scraped against the marble, my breath coming in choked sobs. I turned my head, looking for him for Lucian.
He was walking away. Calm. Collected. Like he hadn't just forced me into a nightmare. His hands tucked into his pockets, his steps steady as the heavy doors swung open ahead of him.
I screamed. "You can't do this! Do you hear me? You can't—!"
The doors shut behind him before I could finish.
They dragged me through that endless corridor, my cries echoing back at me. Every corner felt like it was closing in,
We stopped at a door. Massive. Carved wood. Gold handles shaped like serpents.
One of the men twisted the handle and shoved the door open. The next second, I was thrown forward — hard enough to fall to my knees. My hands hit soft carpet.
I turned, my voice shaking. "You people will regret this! This is abduction!"
The taller of the two glanced back once, face blank. "Master will join you after his meetings are over," he said flatly. "The maids will assist you with the bath."
"Be ready, my foot!" I spat at him.
He left as if my screams were meaningless, like noise he'd learned to ignore. The door shut softly, the lock clicking in place a second later — quiet, final, cruel.
I didn't move for a long time. My body was shaking so badly it felt like I might shatter. My face was wet, my throat raw, my heart beating too loud for the silence around me.
Then I forced myself to stand. I couldn't just sit there waiting for him. Whoever he was. Whatever he was.
The room looked like something from a luxury magazine — a chandelier, silk sheets, fresh flowers, soft lighting. But underneath all that beauty, something felt wrong. Everything looked too untouched, too staged, as if it wasn't meant for living, just for display.
I went to the window first. It was large, framed in gold, the curtains heavy and rich. I grabbed the handle and pulled. Nothing. I pulled harder, hitting it with my palm, my shoulder — still nothing. It didn't even rattle.
Panic crept up my throat.
Every window. Locked.
The vents were small and out of reach, the door thick, and the bathroom had no other exit. When I checked the closet, I almost forgot what I was looking for. Rows of designer clothes, jewelry cases, and shelves stacked with shoes. It was like someone had built a dollhouse and dressed me for the part.
"Who are these people…" I whispered, pressing a trembling hand to my chest.
That's when I heard it.The sound I'd started to dread more than anything.The door unlocking.
I froze. My breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat. The handle turned, and the door creaked open.
But it wasn't him.
Three women stepped inside, dressed in matching black-and-white uniforms. Their faces were pale, drained of anything human. Each carried a tray — one with folded towels, another with glass bottles and soaps, the last with silver bowls that steamed faintly.
The woman in front looked like she was in charge. Her posture was perfect, her eyes sharp, her expression carved from stone. She gave a small bow.
"Lady," she said softly, "it is time for your bath."
I blinked at her, confused. "What? No, this is— this is a huge misunderstanding. I'm not supposed to be here. Please, let me go."
Her head tilted slightly, but her voice didn't change. "Please refrain from speaking to us about matters we are not allowed to discuss."
The way she said it — flat, final — sent a cold rush down my spine.
Then she gestured toward the bathroom door. "This way, please."
I didn't move. The two younger maids stepped closer, their faces blank but their hands firm. I was almost dragged across the room.
When the head maid's shadow fell over me, I could barely breathe. She didn't raise her voice, didn't threaten me — but something about her presence felt suffocating, like the air bent around her.
Only when she stepped out of the room for a moment did I realize I'd been holding my breath.
One of the younger girls glanced at me timidly. "Do you need some water, Lady?"
I hesitated. I didn't trust them — didn't trust anything — but my throat was raw. I nodded.
She brought over a delicate goblet, gold around the rim, and pressed it to my lips. I took a small sip. It tasted clean. Almost too clean.
"Please," I said, lowering my voice, "where am I? Who are these people? What is this place?"
The girl flinched like I'd struck her. "We're not supposed to talk to you," she whispered. "The Master would punish us if we did."
I leaned closer. "Please. I just need to understand what's happening. I won't tell him you spoke to me, I swear."
Her eyes darted toward the door. "I'm sorry, my lady," she whispered. "I truly am. But… you should pray he doesn't come soon."
That sentence made my heart skip. "What do you mean?"
Before she could answer, the other maid , the slightly older one , slapped her across the face. The sound cracked through the air.
"Don't speak nonsense!" she hissed.
The younger girl's eyes welled up. "But it's true," she said in a trembling voice. "She has the right to know. The last ones… they all"
The older maid grabbed her arm hard, shaking her. "Do you want to die too?"
My stomach dropped. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do you mean, the last ones?"
The younger maid looked at me, guilt twisting her face. "His other wives," she whispered. "All of them died. They said the Master took their hearts out himself."
I stared at her, my mind going blank for a second. "You're lying."
Her lip trembled. "I wish I were."
For a moment, none of us spoke. The candlelight flickered, shadows shaking along the walls.
The head maid stepped back inside just then. Her gaze swept across us like a knife. The two younger ones instantly lowered their heads, silent.
"Is something the matter?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," they said in unison.
The head maid's eyes lingered on me for a beat longer. "Good," she said simply, before turning away.
I stood there, heart pounding so hard it hurt. My reflection in the water didn't look like me anymore, pale, hollow-eyed, trembling.
If what that girl said was true…