The Abyss never forgot.
Even in the quiet moments, Seris felt Mason's presence pressing against her mind. His obsession was a living thing, curling around her consciousness, watching, sensing, waiting.
She tried to escape it. Tried to hide. Tried to breathe without feeling him in every nerve.
Impossible.
"You feel it," his voice whispered in her mind—soft, irresistible, terrifying.
"I hate you," she spat aloud, though a part of her trembled at the sound of his words echoing in her thoughts.
"And I adore it," Mason replied, calm, precise, obsessive. "Your hatred. Your fear. Your defiance. They make you… mine in ways you cannot yet understand."
Seris trembled. Rage, fear, and something else—something dark and forbidden—twisted together in her chest. She hated that it thrilled her. She hated that she wanted him even as she feared him.
"You are dangerous," she whispered.
"And so are you," he replied, his voice close enough to feel in her mind, in her blood, in her bones.
The Abyss seemed to lean closer, alive and waiting.
And in that moment, Seris understood the first terrifying truth of her bond with Mason:
She could never escape him.
But more frighteningly… she might not want to.