Seris discovered the truth on the third attempt.
She ran.
The corridors shifted immediately—walls elongating, paths folding inward, the Abyss itself bending to deny her escape. Panic clawed up her throat as the mark burned violently, dropping her to her knees.
She screamed.
And he came.
Mason appeared before her instantly, fury radiating from him in suffocating waves. The ground cracked beneath his feet.
"You will not flee me," he said, voice low and lethal.
"You don't own me!" she sobbed.
His hand closed around her wrist—not rough, not gentle.
Certain.
The contact detonated something between them.
Heat.
Darkness.
A rush of shared sensation that left her gasping.
Mason stilled.
Slowly, deliberately, he loosened his grip.
"You feel it now," he said hoarsely. "What it means to be bound."
Seris looked up at him through tears and hatred.
"I would rather die."
Mason leaned down, his forehead almost touching hers.
"Then I will keep you alive," he whispered, "until you beg me not to."
The bond tightened.
And for the first time, Seris felt it—
Not just his power.
His hunger.