Chapter 31
Lirael
"Lirael," he said again, softer this time, almost tender. "Such a beautiful name. Why would you hide it from me?"
My throat had locked up completely. The car suddenly felt suffocating, the space shrinking down to just him and me and the truth hanging between us like a guillotine blade.
He knows my name. But does he know everything? Moonlit Fish? Nocturne?
No. If he knew all that, I'd already be dead. Or worse—strapped to some lab table while his people dissected every secret I'd built. This was just my name. Just the identity Damian must have let slip.
I can work with this. I can survive this.
Sebastian's thumb stroked across my pulse point, feeling my heart's frantic rhythm. "You're trembling. I expected shock. Panic, even. But you're just sitting there, still playing your little game of silence."
His hand moved to cup my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze. I saw frustration flicker in those golden eyes—the irritation of a cat whose mouse had stopped running.
I forced my expression to shift—confusion bleeding into my eyes, head tilting in that universal gesture of incomprehension. I don't understand. I'm just a simple creature.
He released me abruptly, and I pressed myself against the car door, but there was nowhere to go.
"Let me tell you a story," he said, settling back with predatory grace. "Pay very close attention. There will be a test."
He tapped the control panel and a screen descended from the ceiling, flickering to life. A cartoon appeared—Little Red Riding Hood, but the art style was wrong. Too dark, too angular.
"Educational content," Sebastian said with dark amusement.
I watched, stomach sinking, as the story unfolded. This wasn't some sanitized children's version. This was darker, more twisted, more honest about what the fairy tale had always meant.
Little Red Riding Hood thought she was clever, taking shortcuts, avoiding the hunters. But the wolf was always ahead, watching from shadows, herding her exactly where he wanted. Every choice she made had been anticipated. Manipulated.
When she reached her grandmother's house and realized the truth—
"'Grandmother, why are your eyes so big?'" the cartoon Red asked, voice high and frightened.
"'The better to see you with, my dear,'" the wolf growled.
"'Grandmother, why are your teeth so sharp?'"
"'The better to eat you with.'"
The wolf's jaws opened wide. Red's scream was cut short.
Sebastian shifted closer, his chest pressing against my back, arms caging me. I went rigid but he didn't care. His chin came to rest in the curve of my neck.
"Interesting, isn't it?" he murmured against my skin. "She thought she was escaping, but she was really just following the path the wolf laid out. Every clever little detour—all part of his plan."
His hand brushed my hair aside, exposing my neck. "The wolf knew where she was going. Knew what she wanted. Knew exactly how to make her think she was outsmarting him."
He's talking about me. About every time I thought I was escaping.
"Of course," Sebastian continued, voice darkening, "in this version, the wolf doesn't kill her right away. He keeps her. Plays with her. Teaches her that running is useless, fighting is useless. That the only way to survive is to accept her place."
I couldn't stop the shiver. His teeth grazed my earlobe—not quite biting, but close enough to make me gasp. He made a low, satisfied sound.
"But here's the thing about fairy tales," he said, pulling back to look at my face. "They always have a moral. And the lesson of Little Red Riding Hood is simple: if you stray from the path, if you think you're clever enough to outsmart the wolf, you will be devoured."
He paused. "Unless the little girl is smart enough to realize her mistake. Smart enough to admit she took the wrong path. And if she's very lucky—if she begs prettily enough—the wolf might keep her as a pet instead of eating her whole."
There it is. Confess and beg, or keep fighting and face punishment.
But I couldn't. The moment I showed him I understood, it would all be over. He'd start asking questions. Questions that would lead straight to Moonlit Fish, to Nocturne, to everything.
No. I can't. I won't.
I let my eyes go wide and confused, expression shifting to innocent bewilderment. I tilted my head, made my body soft and pliant.
Swallow your pride. Play the animal. Survive.
Frustration flickered across Sebastian's face, mixed with something like grudging admiration. "Still playing the game. Still pretending you don't understand." He studied me. "You're very good at this, little moon. Better than I expected."
He changed the screen, pulling up another version. "Let's try another. Maybe this one will help."
For the next hour—maybe longer—he made me watch version after version of Little Red Riding Hood. Each darker than the last, each hammering home the same message.
The little girl always thought she was clever. Always thought she could outsmart the wolf. Always wrong.
In one version, the wolf ate her slowly. In another, he kept her in a cage. In a third, he dressed her in her grandmother's clothes and made her play house—a grotesque parody.
But every version had the same moral: Run all you want. Fight all you want. In the end, you belong to the wolf.
By the time the last cartoon ended, my mind felt numb. Sebastian's arms were still around me, his heartbeat slow and steady while mine hammered.
"Do you understand now?" he asked softly. "Do you see what I've been trying to tell you?"
I understand perfectly, you psychotic bastard. You're telling me my only chance is to give up, to submit.
But you're wrong. You don't know about Moonlit Fish. You don't know about the facility. You don't know I'm already planning my next move.
I kept my expression blank, body soft. Sebastian sighed against my hair—frustration or satisfaction or both.
"We'll continue this lesson later," he said, finally releasing me. "For now, we're home."
The car had stopped. The Obsidian Tower loomed above us, guards at attention. Marcus hovered by the door.
Sebastian climbed out, then offered his hand. "Come along, little moon. You've had a very educational afternoon. I'm sure you need time to... process everything you've learned."