Chapter 32 Thirty two
I was in my new room, sitting on the edge of the bed, replaying the video on my phone.
The screen glowed in the dim light. His face. The chains. The red eyes. The fury in his voice when he shouted about Derek burying him down there.
I didn’t even know why I took it.
Proof? Leverage?
Or…
I swallowed and replayed the part where he glared into the camera like he could see straight through me.
“Enjoying that video, huh?”
The voice came out of nowhere.
I flinched so hard my phone slipped from my fingers and hit the mattress.
My head snapped up. “Who’s there?” I demanded, scanning the corners of the room.
Silence.
Then a low, familiar chuckle brushed against my mind like smoke.
“Oh, little witch,” he murmured. “I might be in the dungeon… but I’m also in your head. And apparently… your heart.”
My stomach dropped.
“No,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he replied instantly.
The sound wasn’t in the room.
It was inside me.
“How are you doing this?” I muttered, sitting up straighter, pressing my palm to my temple like I could physically block him out.
“It was easy,” he said lazily. “You’re open. Curious. Emotional. That makes doors. I simply walk through them.”
I clenched my jaw.
Stop thinking, I told myself.
“Too late,” he laughed softly.
I froze.
Oh.
Right.
I wasn’t alone in here anymore.
“You forgot,” he said, amused. “I hear you.”
“Get out of my head,” I snapped, standing up abruptly.
“You invited me.”
“I did not!”
“You watch my face when you think no one sees. You replay my voice. You wonder if I’m suffering. If I’m cold. If I’m alone.”
My throat tightened.
“Don’t twist this,” I said. “I just need evidence.”
“Evidence,” he mocked gently. “Is that what you call it when your fingers hover over my face on the screen?”
Heat crept up my neck.
“You’re disgusting,” I muttered.
“And yet you’re still listening.”
I groaned and collapsed backward onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
This was insane.
“I am losing my mind,” I whispered.
“No,” he corrected softly. “You’re expanding it.”
I rolled onto my side, gripping my pillow.
“Why can you reach me like this?” I asked quietly. “You’re chained. Sealed. Suppressed.”
There was a pause.
Then his voice lowered.
“Chains bind bodies,” he said. “Not connections.”
My breath caught.
“What connection?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, I felt something strange. Not pain. Not control.
A pull.
Subtle. Gentle. Like someone brushing fingertips against the inside of my thoughts.
“You feel it,” he murmured. “That thread between us.”
“I don’t,” I lied.
“You do.”
My chest tightened.
I hated that part of me did feel something. A tension. A hum. Like static in the air before lightning strikes.
“You should come see me,” he said suddenly.
“No.”
“The dungeon is cold.”
“Good.”
“I’m alone.”
“That’s your problem.”
His laughter was softer this time.
“You’re cruel.”
“You threatened to smash my head against a wall.”
“Only if you freed me,” he corrected smoothly.
I pressed my palms over my ears even though I knew it wouldn’t help.
“Stop talking.”
“You’re the one who keeps thinking.”
I groaned in frustration. “This is torture.”
“For me too,” he replied. “Do you know how dull it is down here? Stone walls. Iron chains. No sunlight. No stimulation.”
“Good,” I repeated stubbornly.
“Except,” he continued, voice lowering, “when you think about me.”
My stomach flipped.
“When you replay that video.”
My pulse quickened.
“When you wonder what would happen if I wasn’t chained.”
I sat up again, heart racing.
“Shut up.”
“You’re curious.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I stood up and started pacing my room, trying to burn off the nervous energy crawling under my skin.
“You’re manipulating me,” I accused.
“Of course I am,” he said bluntly.
That caught me off guard.
“You admit it?”
“I don’t need to hide it. The difference is… you’re still choosing to listen.”
I stopped pacing.
That annoyed me more than anything.
“You think you’re special,” he continued. “You think you’re immune because you snapped out of my control once.”
“I did.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “And that’s why I’m interested.”
Silence fell between us for a moment.
“You’re not scared of me anymore,” he observed.
I hesitated.
Was I?
Earlier, yes.
Now…
Now it felt more complicated.
“I’m not stupid,” I said carefully.
“No,” he murmured. “You’re not.”
There was something different in his tone. Less mocking. More… assessing.
“You should come see me,” he said again, quieter this time.
“I said no.”
“Are you afraid you won’t leave?”
I swallowed.
“I can leave whenever I want.”
“Prove it.”
My jaw tightened.
“You’re trying to bait me.”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest.”
He chuckled.
“Come down,” he said softly. “Stand in front of me. Look into my eyes. If you feel nothing… walk away.”
“And if I do feel something?” I challenged.
“Then we both win.”
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see it.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet,” he murmured, “you’re still standing. Not deleting the video. Not blocking me out.”
I glanced at my phone on the bed.
The screen was still on pause.
His red eyes frozen mid-glare.
“Why me?” I asked suddenly.
Another pause.
“Because you’re not weak,” he said. “You think you are. Everyone treats you like you are. But you’re not.”
My chest tightened at that.
“Flattery won’t work.”
“It’s not flattery.”
Silence stretched.
Then—
“Come see me,” he whispered again. “Just once.”
I stared at the door of my room.
The hallway beyond it.
The stairs.
The path down to the dungeon.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
“You won’t control me,” I said firmly.
“I won’t,” he replied.
Lie.
I could feel the lie.
But I could also feel the pull.
Frustrated, I grabbed my phone and turned the screen off.
“Goodnight,” I muttered.
His chuckle echoed faintly.
“Sleep well, little witch,” he said softly. “I’ll be right here.”
—
I told myself I wasn’t going.
I even turned off the lights, lay down, pulled the covers up to my chin like that would somehow block his voice out.
It didn’t.
Come see me. The dungeon feels so cold.
“I’m not coming,” I muttered into my pillow.
You’re already halfway out of bed.
I froze.
I hated that he was right.
Five minutes later, I was barefoot in the hallway, shoes dangling from my fingers so they wouldn’t make a sound. The mansion was quiet, wrapped in that heavy, sleeping silence that makes every tiny noise feel criminal.
Each step down the staircase felt louder than the last.
If someone sees you, you’re finished, I told myself.
The air grew cooler the closer I got to the lower level. The warmth of the upper floors faded, replaced by the damp chill that always clung to the dungeon wing.
I turned the corner.
The heavy metal door stood at the end of the corridor.
The two guards that were usually stationed outside—
Gone.
My stomach twisted.
“You look disappointed,” his voice murmured inside my head.
“Where are the guards?” I whispered under my breath.
“Moved. Your alpha thinks I’m too weak to be a threat right now.”
There was something sharp beneath his calm tone.
I hesitated only a second before pushing the door open.
It creaked softly.
The dungeon smelled of stone and rust. Torches flickered along the walls, their light uneven and trembling.
And there he was.
Chained.
Wrists bound above his head, iron biting into skin that was already marked and bruised. His shirt was torn, exposing the evidence of punishment across his chest and shoulders.
His head was slightly bowed.
Then he lifted it.
Red eyes met mine.
Not Koda.
Him.
“You came.”
I crossed my arms. “Don’t sound so pleased.”
“You ignored me for a full seven minutes. I was starting to feel neglected.”
I stepped further inside despite myself.
“You said it was cold,” I said.
“It is.”
“You’re not shivering.”
“I don’t get cold easily.”
His gaze dragged over me slowly, deliberately.
“But you do.”
I hated that my skin prickled.
“I’m not cold.”
“You are,” he corrected softly. “Your heartbeat changed the moment you stepped in.”
I stopped walking.
“You can’t hear my heartbeat.”
“I don’t need to hear it.”
My jaw tightened. “Stop acting like you know everything.”
“Oh, little witch,” he murmured, a faint smirk curving his lips, “I’m in your head. I know when you’re lying to yourself.”
I swallowed.
“You shouldn’t be able to do that.”
“And yet.”
I stepped closer to him, close enough to see the faint tremor in his arms from holding his weight against the chains.
“You look worse,” I said quietly.
“Is that concern?”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about Koda.”
A flicker passed through his eyes at the name.
“He’s quiet tonight,” he said.
“What did they do?”
“They tried to break me.”
“And?”
He smiled slowly.
“They failed.”
The chains rattled as he adjusted his stance.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he added.
“I know.”
“If they catch you—”
“I know,” I snapped.
Silence fell between us, thick and charged.
His eyes studied me in a way that made my stomach feel strange.
“You keep coming back,” he said softly.
“I came because you wouldn’t shut up.”
“You like when I talk to you.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Your mind opens for me,” he continued, ignoring me. “You don’t fight as hard as you pretend.”
My pulse quickened.
“Stop trying to twist things.”
“Then answer me honestly.”
His gaze sharpened.
“Why are you really here?”
I opened my mouth—
Nothing came out.
Because I didn’t know.
Because part of me had wanted to see him.
Because part of me hated that.
“You don’t even understand what you are,” he murmured.
“I’m not anything special.”
He laughed softly.
“You’re not just wolf. And you’re not just witch.”
My heart skipped.
“Don’t.”
“You’re something in between,” he continued. “Something that shouldn’t exist.”
“You’re making things up.”
“No,” he said calmly. “I can feel it.”
The air seemed to thicken.
“Feel what?”
“You’re a doorway.”
My throat went dry.
“To what?”
“To power.”
The word lingered between us.
“You’re trying to manipulate me again,” I whispered.
“Yes,” he admitted easily. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I took a step back.
He noticed.
“You’re not afraid,” he said.
“I’m cautious.”
“Same thing.”
“No,” I replied. “Fear makes you run. Caution makes you think.”
His lips curved.
“That’s why I like you.”
My breath hitched.
“You don’t like me.”
“Oh, I do.”
The way he said it wasn’t playful.
It was certain.
“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Because you resist me,” he answered. “Everyone else either fears me or obeys me.”
“And I don’t?”
“You try not to.”
The chains clinked softly as he leaned forward as much as they allowed.
“If I asked you to come closer,” he murmured, “would you?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
His voice shifted slightly, deeper, smoother.
The pressure brushed against my mind.
Subtle.
Almost gentle.
Come here.
My feet moved.
Just one step.
My heartbeat roared in my ears.
Closer.
Another step.
The air felt heavy, warm, like something wrapping around my thoughts.
My gaze lifted to his lips without permission.
“Stop,” I whispered, but it sounded weak—even to me.
His eyes darkened with satisfaction.
You want to.
I did.
That was the terrifying part.
The pull wasn’t forceful. It was persuasive. Like a thought that felt like my own.
Just a little closer.
I was inches away now.
Close enough to feel his breath against my skin.
My fingers twitched.
He lowered his voice to a near whisper.
Do you love me?
The words slid straight into my mind.
My vision blurred for a second.
And then—
Something snapped.
A sharp pulse in my head.
I stumbled back like I’d been burned.
“No,” I gasped. “Stop it.”
His expression flickered—surprise, then irritation.
“You were trying to control me,” I said, breath shaking. “You’ve been doing it this whole time.”
“I barely pushed,” he said quietly.
“You’re not getting in my head like that again.”
“You let me in.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
I pressed my hand to my temple, steadying myself.
“You almost made me—”
“Kiss me?” he finished smoothly.
Heat flooded my face.
“I would never.”
“You would have.”
The chains rattled as he shifted, watching me with something almost hungry in his eyes.
“And that terrifies you.”
Before I could answer—
A sound.
Heavy.
Metal scraping.
My head snapped toward the entrance.
Footsteps.
Close.
Too close.
His eyes flicked past me toward the door.
“You should go,” he said quietly.
But I hadn’t moved yet.
The handle turned.
Slowly.
The dungeon door began to open.
And I was still standing right in front of him.