"The most dangerous lies are the ones we tell ourselves about love."
The neural chair dominated the laboratory like a chrome throne built for suffering. Cables snaked around its base in metallic coils, their electrode-crowned ends pulsing with ethereal blue light. Aria stood before it, her fingers trembling as they traced the cold metal armrests.
"Second thoughts, little mouse?" Kael's voice carried dark amusement from where he lounged against the wall, shirtless and wrapped in Phoenix's surgical tape. The violence still clung to him like expensive cologne—intoxicating and lethal.
She forced steel into her voice despite the tremor in her hands. "Let's just get this over with."
Dante circled them with predatory grace, his spider pendant catching the harsh laboratory lights. The silver arachnid seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat, matching the rhythm of his obsession. "Are you certain about this, cara mia? Once his filth seeps into that beautiful mind—"
"I said shut up." The words cracked like a whip, sharper than Aria intended. She needed this neural sync to work. Kael held memories of resistance safe houses, weapon caches, everything they required to strike back at the Corporation. And if sharing headspace with a killer was the price...
Liar, whispered a treacherous voice in her mind. You want to know what he thinks about when he looks at you.*
Phoenix emerged from the shadows, surgical instruments gleaming in his steady hands. His gray eyes studied Aria with clinical fascination that barely masked something hungrier underneath. "The positioning is... intimate," he said, his voice perfectly controlled. "You'll need to maintain physical contact throughout the procedure. Skin to skin conducts neural pathways more efficiently."
Aria's mouth went dry. "What kind of contact?"
"You'll straddle him." Phoenix's knuckles went white around his scalpel despite his professional tone. "Chest to chest. The electrodes require proximity to major nerve clusters—throat, wrists, spine."
Kael's laugh was pure velvet poison, the sound crawling along Aria's spine like fingers. "Hear that, little mouse? You'll be exactly where you've wanted to be since that closet."
Heat blazed across her cheeks. "You arrogant—"
"Am I wrong?" He pushed off from the wall, moving with liquid grace despite his injuries. His scarred fingers trailed along the chair's armrest, the gesture somehow obscene. "Your pulse spiked every time I touched you. Your breath caught when I pinned you against that door." Those unsettling green eyes fixed on hers. "Your body remembers, even if your mind pretends to forget."
He's not wrong, Dante thought, watching the flush creep down Aria's throat. She wants him. Wants his violence, his corruption. But she's mine. Mine to protect, mine to possess, mine to destroy if necessary.
"Enough." Dante's voice cut through the tension like a blade. He stepped closer to Aria, close enough that she could smell his expensive cologne mixed with something darker—gunpowder and obsession. "If you insist on this madness, then we proceed. But know this—" His breath ghosted across her ear. "If he corrupts you, if he leaves even a trace of his poison in your soul, I will carve it out myself."
The threat should have terrified her. Instead, it sent electricity racing down her spine.
Phoenix began connecting the electrodes with methodical precision, each movement calculated and controlled. But his fingers lingered too long on Kael's throat, pressed too firmly against pulse points. "Dante, the restraints. He'll experience neural feedback—we can't risk him lashing out unconsciously."
Leather cuffs clicked around Kael's wrists, securing him to the chair. He didn't resist, just watched Aria with those predator's eyes. "Afraid I'll hurt your precious little mouse, Doctor?"
I'm afraid you'll enjoy it too much, Phoenix thought, his clinical mask slipping. I'm afraid she'll let you.
"Afraid you'll enjoy it too much," Phoenix said aloud, pressing an electrode to Kael's throat. The killer's breath hitched—a sound unexpectedly vulnerable that made Aria's heart stutter.
Her pulse hammered against her ribs as she approached the chair. This was insane. Suicidal. But they needed those memories, and she was the only one whose neural pathways could handle the sync without permanent damage.
At least, that's what she told herself.
"Ready?" Phoenix asked, holding the final set of electrodes meant for her.
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Kael spread his legs slightly, making room for her on the chair. The invitation was obscene and terrifying, and she climbed onto him anyway.
Her thighs bracketed his hips as she settled against him, her chest flattening against his furnace-hot skin. Scars mapped his torso like a roadmap of violence, each mark telling stories she didn't want to imagine. Phoenix's hands brushed her neck as he attached the electrodes, his touch lingering with desperate hunger.
She's so warm, Kael thought, feeling her heartbeat against his chest. So alive. When was the last time something alive touched me without fear?
Don't think about how she feels, Dante warned himself, watching them from across the room. Don't think about how she looks straddling him like—
"Neural sync initiating in ten seconds," Phoenix announced, his voice strained. His hands shook as he stepped back from the chair. "Remember, Aria—you're the anchor. Don't let him pull you too deep."
The electrodes hummed to life. Electricity raced along nerve pathways, and then—
The world exploded.
Suddenly Aria wasn't in the lab anymore. She was nineteen again, training in Marcus's garage, sweat dripping down her spine as she practiced knife throws. But she wasn't seeing through her own eyes—she was seeing through *his*.
Through Kael's eyes as he watched her from the shadows, a ghost haunting her past.
God, look at her, his thoughts whispered through her consciousness like silk and smoke. The way she moves—violence and grace personified. That little furrow between her brows when she concentrates. The arch of her back when she throws...
In the memory, nineteen-year-old Aria bent to retrieve a fallen blade, and Kael's attention fixated on the curve of her hips, the way her tank top rode up to reveal smooth skin. His desire crashed over her like a physical blow—raw, hungry, absolutely shameless.
I want to taste the salt on her throat. Want to see if she makes the same face when she comes as when she throws a perfect strike.
Her present body arched involuntarily, pressing against his chest as the memory's arousal bled into reality. A soft gasp escaped her lips—his sound or hers, she couldn't tell anymore.
"What's happening?" Dante's voice sounded distant, muffled by neural static flooding her brain. His hands clenched at his sides as he watched her writhe against Kael's restraints.
"They're syncing," Phoenix replied, clinical fascination thick in his tone despite the jealousy burning in his chest. "Her neural pathways are integrating with his memory engrams. It's... beautiful."
Beautiful and horrifying, he thought. She's letting him inside her mind. Places I've never been allowed to touch.
The memory shifted like smoke. Now Kael was following her home from training, keeping to the shadows like the predator he was. Watching through her apartment window as she showered, as she changed clothes, as she touched herself in bed with—
Wait. That wasn't real.
"Getting confused, little mouse?" Kael's voice echoed inside her skull, dark with amusement. "Welcome to my world, where fantasy and reality dance together in the dark."
"Get out of my head," she gasped, but her body betrayed her, hips shifting against his in a rhythm she didn't consciously control.
Can't, his thoughts twined with hers like poison ivy. We're connected now. You feel what I feel. Want what I want. Need what I need.
Another memory surfaced—Kael as a teenager, younger but somehow more dangerous, carving his first kill into a warehouse wall. The blood under his nails. The rush of power. The moment innocence died and something darker was born.
"Stop." She tried to pull away, but phantom hands—his hands—held her mental form in place. "Show me the safe houses. The resistance intel."
"Such a demanding little mouse." His mental voice turned molten. "But I have something better to show you first."
The memory that crashed over her next stole her breath. It was from days ago, in that supply closet when he'd pinned her against the door. But instead of releasing her like he had in reality, this version played out differently. His mouth claimed hers with brutal hunger. His hands tore at her clothes. Her body yielded and begged and burned for more—
"That's enough!"
The neural connection shattered as Dante physically yanked her off Kael, his fingers tangling in her hair. Not to hurt—never to hurt—but to anchor her back to reality. His forehead pressed against hers, dark eyes blazing with fury and desperation.
"You let him inside your head?" His voice trembled with barely leashed violence. "After I showed you his filth?"
She could barely speak, her mind reeling from the sync. Kael's presence lingered like smoke in her thoughts, phantom sensations crawling across her skin. "We needed—"
"You needed nothing from him!" Something burned hot against her throat—his spider pendant, somehow transferred to her neck during the chaos. "I can give you everything you require. Power. Protection. Purpose."
"And what would you require in return?" The question slipped out before she could stop it.
His smile was knife-sharp and beautiful, the expression of a man who'd finally been asked the right question. "What I've always required, cara mia. Your complete surrender."
Before she could respond, Phoenix stepped between them, his surgical mask abandoned to reveal aristocratic features twisted with rage. "Both of you, step away from her. Now."
She's mine, Dante thought, hand moving to his concealed blade. Mine to protect, mine to possess.
"Excuse me?" Dante's voice dropped to a deadly whisper.
"You heard me." Phoenix's usually steady hands shook as he reached for Aria. "The neural sync caused cellular damage. She needs medical attention."
"I'm fine," she protested, but Phoenix's fingers found her pulse points with professional precision.
"Elevated heart rate. Dilated pupils. Neural scarring along the temporal lobe." His touch lingered, clinical detachment cracking to reveal raw obsession underneath. "I could fix this. Sever the connection he forced on you."
"What connection?" Fear clawed at her throat.
Phoenix's gray eyes met hers, and for a moment she saw past his mask to the darkness burning beneath. She's infected, he thought. Corrupted by his poison. But I can save her. I can cut him out and keep her pure.
"He's still in there, Aria. Part of him merged with your neural pathways during the sync." His voice remained clinical, but his hands trembled. "I could carve him out... but would there be anything left?"
Before she could process that terrifying possibility, Phoenix's mouth crashed against hers. The kiss tasted of antiseptic and stolen longing, desperate and wrong and somehow perfect. His hands framed her face like she was something precious he'd been denied too long.
Finally, he thought against her lips. Finally, she's close enough to touch.
She should have pushed him away. Should have slapped him. Instead, she found herself kissing back, drawn to his desperate hunger like a moth to flame.
"Basta!" Dante's roar shattered the moment. Metal sang as he drew a blade, its edge gleaming with poison. "Remove your hands from what is mine."
Phoenix pulled back slowly, his lips swollen and eyes wild. "Yours? She's not property, Dante."
"Isn't she?" Dante's smile was winter-sharp as he advanced with predatory grace. "Look at her throat."
Aria raised trembling fingers to her neck, feeling the warm metal of his spider pendant where it rested against her pulse. When had it gotten there? How had she not noticed its weight?
"A collar for my pet," Dante purred, closing the distance to Phoenix. "To remind her whose web she's caught in."
"Stop." Her voice cracked like a whip, cutting through their posturing. "All of you, just stop."
But as she tried to step away from them, phantom hands trailed up her thighs—Kael's hands, his consciousness still tangled with hers like a parasite. His voice whispered through her thoughts like poison honey:
You want to hate me, little mouse? Then hate me properly. Let me show you how it's done.
Her body moved without permission, turning to Dante and pressing her mouth to his in a kiss that tasted of dark promises. But even as she kissed him, her hand—guided by Kael's will—swept across Phoenix's equipment, sending monitors crashing to the floor.
Dante groaned against her lips, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. Finally, he thought. Finally she understands where she belongs.
"Finally," he breathed aloud. "Finally you understand—"
The world tilted without warning, colors bleeding together like watercolors in rain. The laboratory vanished, replaced by something impossible—a cemetery too green, too alive, where five figures stood graveside like generals dividing conquered territory.
It was her father's funeral, but wrong. All wrong.
Kael gripped her wrist, his fingers burning brands into her skin. "You're my redemption, little mouse. The only clean thing in my filthy world."
Dante's tongue traced the tear sliding down her cheek, his spider pendant pulsing with unnatural heat. "You're my masterpiece, cara mia. My greatest creation."
Phoenix pressed a scalpel to the hollow of her throat, the blade cold against her racing pulse. "You're my cure, Aria. The only medicine for what I've become."
Adrian's voice crackled through an earpiece that hadn't existed moments before: "You're my transaction, sweetheart. The most profitable deal I'll ever make."
And behind her, solid as death and twice as cold, Marcus materialized from shadow itself. "You're my weapon, daughter. Forged in fire and ready to burn the world down."
Each claim wrapped around her like chains, binding her tighter to their twisted devotion. She tried to scream, tried to run, but their words held her fast in a web of obsession and need.
The hallucination shattered like glass as real-world pain blazed across her shoulder. Kael had awakened from the neural chair, broken free of his restraints with inhuman strength, and buried his teeth in her flesh hard enough to draw blood.
"Mine first," he snarled against her skin, his voice raw with possession and something deeper. Something that might have been love if love could be forged in violence and tempered in blood.
The taste of her filled his mouth—copper and jasmine, fear and defiance. Perfect, he thought as she gasped beneath his bite. Mine. Finally, completely mine.
But as the others rushed forward to tear him away from her, as chaos erupted in the laboratory once more, one thought echoed through the neural link they'd forged:
This is only the beginning.