The Abyss did not sleep.
Seris learned that quickly.
Time here did not move forward—it circled, coiled, lingered. The light never changed. The air never warmed. And no matter where she went, no matter how many corridors she crossed or how many doors she slammed shut behind her, she could feel him.
Watching.
Not always close.
Never absent.
She stood at the edge of a balcony carved from black stone, staring down into a void that breathed slowly, rhythmically, like a massive living lung. The mark on her chest pulsed in time with it.
Her body shuddered.
"Get out of my head," she whispered.
The bond answered with silence.
Then—pressure.
A presence settling against her consciousness with intimate precision.
You are standing too close to the edge.
Seris spun around. "Get out!"
Mason stood several steps behind her, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He had not arrived. He had simply been there.
"I did not enter your mind," he said calmly. "You reached for me."
"I would never—"
"You did," he interrupted. His eyes flicked briefly to the mark. "The bond is not a chain alone. It is a conduit."
Her stomach twisted. "So what? You can feel everything I feel now?"
"No," Mason replied. "Only what you try to hide."
He stepped closer.
The air thickened immediately, heavy with his power, his focus. Seris's breath shortened against her will. Her instincts screamed at her to retreat—but another, quieter part of her leaned toward him, traitorous and curious.
"I do not watch you to control you," he said. "I watch because if I do not, I will tear this realm apart wondering what you are doing."
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs.
"That's not love," she said. "That's madness."
Mason's gaze locked onto hers.
"There is no difference," he said softly.