The house had gone still, but it was not peace.
It was the silence of a battlefield after the smoke had settled—bodies unseen, wounds unhealed, and the air thick with the echo of screams.
Adrian lay sprawled on the warped nursery floor, every breath like glass dragging down his throat. Sweat pooled at his temples, his hair plastered to his face. The mark on his chest no longer burned, but pulsed—steady, insistent, like another heart beating just beneath his own.
Selene hovered above him, her crimson gown torn at the hem from the chaos. She reached down, fingers brushing the blood at his collar. Her nails came away red, and for once, her expression faltered—not fury, not possession, but something softer. Awe, perhaps. Or fear.
"You defied it," she whispered, as though repeating the truth would anchor it. "You told it no. You told me no."
Her hand trembled before she clenched it into a fist. She rose to her feet, voice sharpening. "But you will not be able to say no forever. Do you understand, Adrian? Every moment you resist, the hunger grows stronger. And hunger always finds a way."
Adrian groaned, pushing himself upright on shaky arms. His vision blurred, spots of light swimming before his eyes. Cassia knelt at his side instantly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her small body steadying him with desperate resolve.
"You don't have to listen to her," Cassia said fiercely, glaring at Selene through damp lashes. "You don't belong to hunger. You belong to yourself. You proved that tonight."
Her voice trembled on the edge of tears, but her grip was unyielding. She pressed her forehead to Adrian's, whispering, "You're still you. You're still mine."
The mark pulsed in response—not in rejection, but in acknowledgment. Adrian felt it, deep and intimate, like the echo of a kiss pressed against his bones.
Selene's eyes narrowed. "Yours? Child, do you even understand what you hold? He is no longer just a man—he is a vessel. You cling to him like driftwood, but driftwood burns when the fire rises."
Cassia's arms tightened around Adrian, as if shielding him from Selene's words. "Then let me burn. I won't let him face this alone."
Adrian winced, overwhelmed by their voices, their claims, their heat. The shard's echo stirred in his mind, not words this time but sensations—waves of lust, hunger, rage, ecstasy—all blending into one unstoppable tide. He pressed his palms to his head, voice ragged.
"Enough."
Both women fell silent, their gazes snapping back to him.
Adrian forced himself to stand, legs trembling but unyielding. His eyes burned with a strange light, not just the shard's echo but something of his own will. "I don't belong to either of you. Not to hunger. Not to fear. Not to fire. Not to chains."
He looked at Selene, his chest rising and falling with effort. "I won't be your vessel."
He turned to Cassia, softer but still firm. "And I won't be your shield."
Cassia flinched as though struck, tears brimming, but she did not let go. Her whisper cracked the air. "Then what are you?"
Adrian's mouth opened—but no answer came. Only silence. Only the pulse of the mark, reminding him that the question had no simple truth.
The house seemed to hear, to laugh in its timbers. The lullaby began again, faint, curling from the walls like smoke. But this time, the melody was slower. Hungrier. It crawled beneath the skin, whispering of unfinished business.
Selene drew closer, her presence thick with heat, her perfume sharp and intoxicating. She touched his cheek, tilting his head toward her. "Listen to it. It calls you because you are already half its own. Why deny what could make you more than mortal? More than chained by doubt and fear?" Her lips hovered near his ear, voice dropping to a murmur. "You could rule this hunger, Adrian. With me."
Cassia yanked his arm, pulling him back, her eyes blazing with a fire of her own. "Don't let her poison you! You don't need to rule anything—you just need to survive. With me." Her hand pressed flat to his chest, over the mark, her warmth bleeding into his skin.
Adrian's pulse raced. His breath grew shallow. The mark flared brighter, feeding off their touch, their words, their desire. His body trembled, caught between their opposing tides.
And in the depths of his mind, the shadow's voice purred.
"This is what you are. Not theirs. Not even your own. You are hunger, and hunger is never satisfied. Take them both. Take them all. Feed, and you will finally know peace."
He staggered back, clutching his chest, shaking his head violently. "No—no more voices!"
The walls shuddered. The nursery door slammed open of its own accord, revealing the hallway beyond. Darkness pooled in the threshold, thick and beckoning. From it came whispers—soft, inviting, like a thousand lovers calling his name.
Cassia gasped, clinging to his arm. "Don't go. Please don't go in there."
Selene's lips curved into a slow smile, though her eyes betrayed unease. "That is where the path leads, Adrian. Every step you've taken has been toward this. The house opens its next trial. And if you refuse it, it will consume you here instead."
Adrian's heart thundered. His body was exhausted, but the mark pulsed stronger, feeding on the anticipation. His hands shook, but his feet moved forward—toward the hall, toward the whispers.
Cassia's cry cracked the silence. "Adrian!" She darted in front of him, arms outstretched, blocking the threshold with her own trembling body. "Don't go! Don't let it take you away from me again!"
Her devotion was a dagger of light in his chest. But Selene's voice, low and dangerous, slid around it like smoke. "If you hesitate, you will break. Better to enter willingly, to choose, than to be dragged."
The hallway loomed, darkness rippling like a curtain of water, promising revelation and ruin.
Adrian's breath caught. His choice had been defiance before—but now defiance meant movement. He had to step forward, or be swallowed whole.
He placed a hand gently on Cassia's shoulder, his voice breaking. "I have to."
She shook her head violently, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Then I'm coming with you."
Selene's laughter, low and bitter, filled the air. "Then so am I. If he must fall, he falls with us both."
The house seemed to exhale, its walls bending, its timbers groaning in delight. The lullaby rose again, twisted into a song of welcome.
And together—Adrian, Cassia, Selene—they stepped into the waiting dark.
—
The hallway stretched endlessly, walls shifting like breathing flesh. Shadows rippled across the floor, forming shapes that reached, clutched, beckoned. The whispers swelled, no longer one voice but many, overlapping, seductive, terrifying.
Adrian's vision blurred, the mark thrumming with heat. Every step forward was like stepping deeper into a pulse, deeper into himself.
Cassia clung to his arm, trembling but resolute. Selene walked ahead, her crimson gown blazing against the dark, her every movement confident, commanding—as though the house itself bowed to her.
At last, the whispers converged into words.
"Welcome, Vessel. Welcome, Hunger. The feast awaits."
The hall split open into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost to shadow. At its center stood a table carved from bone, laden with food that shimmered with unnatural light—meat that bled wine, fruit that pulsed like hearts, goblets that smoked with shadow. Around it sat figures faceless and countless, all turning to him as one.
Selene's breath caught, but her smile widened. Cassia whimpered, burying her face against his arm.
Adrian's chest burned, the mark pulsing furiously, echoing with a single truth.
This was not the end.
This was only the next hunger.