The first sign that Seris Vale was no longer alone was the silence.The forest had been screaming moments earlier—wind tearing through dead branches, beasts howling in the distance, thefrantic pounding of her own heart—but all of it vanished at once, as if the world itself had inhaled and forgotten how to breathe.Seris stopped running.Her boots sank into blackened soil that felt warm beneath her feet, as though the earth had been scorched from below. The torch in her hand flickered violently, then went out.
Darkness swallowed her.
Not the absence of light.
Something deeper.
Something watching.
"Show yourself," she said, forcing the words past the tightness in her throat. "I'm not afraid."A lie.
The shadows shifted.
They peeled away from the trees, from the ground, from the air itself—coiling inward, folding, compressing—until a figure stood before her where nothing had been moments ago.
Tall. Impossibly so.
Clad in darkness that did not reflect light but devoured it.
His eyes opened.
Silver—not glowing, not blazing, just there, ancient and indifferent, as if they had been waiting for her long before she had ever existed.
Seris staggered back.
Every instinct in her body screamed one word:
God.
"No," she whispered. "You're not—"
"I am," he said.
His voice did not echo. It did not need to. It existed inside her bones, inside the marrow of her fear.
Mason.
The name did not come from her mouth.
It surfaced in her mind fully formed, carved into her thoughts like a brand.
His gaze dropped to her throat. Not her eyes. Not her face.
Her pulse.
She felt suddenly naked, flayed open beneath that attention.
"You carry her blood," Mason said calmly. "I wondered when you would stop running."
"I don't know who you think I am," Seris said, backing away again, "but I belong to no one."
Something like amusement passed through his expression—not warmth, not humor. Calculation.
"You belong to me," he replied.
The ground beneath her feet cracked.
Dark sigils erupted in a perfect circle around her, glowing faintly, hungrily. Seris screamed as invisible force slammed into her chest, pinning her in place.
Mason stepped closer.
With every stride, the air grew heavier, denser, until breathing felt like drowning.
"I have watched you bleed," he said quietly. "I have watched you pray. I have watched you deny what you are."
He raised his hand.
Seris fought. Thrashed. Screamed.
It did not matter.
His fingers never touched her skin.
The pain was instant—white-hot, unbearable—searing straight into her soul. She collapsed, gasping, as something burned itself into her existence.
A mark.
A bond.
A claim.
Mason crouched before her, close enough now that she could feel the cold radiating from him, smell the faint scent of ash and night.
"You will hate me," he said, almost thoughtfully. "You will fear me. You will try to escape."
His gaze lifted to meet hers.
"But you will always come back."
Tears streamed down Seris's face—not from pain anymore, but from the certainty settling into her bones.
This was not an encounter.
It was a beginning.
And somewhere deep within the Abyss, the Dark God smiled—because after eternity of waiting…
She was finally his.