Cassia shaken, fiercely protective
The chamber had returned to silence, but it was not peace. The stone floor was chilled beneath Adrian's trembling limbs, his body slick with sweat, his chest heaving as though it had taken a thousand blows. Every breath brought the faint metallic taste of blood and the sharper tang of fear, mingling with the lingering sweetness of the Feast.
Cassia knelt beside him, her hands ghosting over his arms and shoulders as though she could hold the shard's hunger at bay with mere touch. Her amber eyes shone with exhaustion and relief, yet beneath it all, a simmering worry burned. "You… you survived," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You fought it. You… you really fought it."
Adrian closed his eyes, pressing a palm to the floor to steady himself. The mark on his chest pulsed faintly, a reminder that the shard was far from defeated. Its hunger was quieter now, but more insidious, a steady rhythm waiting for a crack in his resolve.
"I… I barely did," he admitted hoarsely. His voice was raw, tight, and ragged. "It wants more. Always more."
Selene remained a few steps behind them, her crimson gown drifting like smoke across the floor. She did not approach. Instead, she tilted her head, eyes glittering in dim light, studying Adrian with a mixture of admiration and hunger. Her voice was soft, deliberate, a whisper that slithered through the air like silk. "And yet you resisted. For now."
Cassia flinched at the words. "For now? What does that mean?" Her hands lingered on Adrian's shoulders, fingers digging lightly into his skin, a desperate anchor against the pull of Selene's presence.
Selene's lips curved into a slow, sharp smile. "It means the shard is patient. It waits, it tests, it feeds on hesitation. You may have survived tonight, Adrian, but every heartbeat since has been a step closer to surrender. You cannot outrun it forever."
Adrian forced himself upright, shaking as he brushed loose strands of hair from his face. The chamber felt alive with anticipation, the very stones seeming to hum in sympathy with the shard's pulse. "I don't… I won't be a vessel," he said, though his voice betrayed him, wavering against the tide of power and desire that still pulsed through him.
Selene's eyes flickered with heat. She stepped closer, each movement deliberate, a predator circling. "Not a vessel? You misunderstand. You are what it seeks to become. Resisting is temporary; claiming it is inevitable. The question is not if, Adrian. The question is when, and who will guide you when you do."
Cassia's chest heaved as she pressed closer, trying to shield him with her own presence. "I'll guide him. Not you. He's not yours to… to mold, Selene." Her voice broke with emotion, a fierce mix of devotion, jealousy, and fear.
Selene tilted her head, as if considering whether the girl's devotion was strength or weakness. "Ah, Cassia. You cling, but you cannot protect him from what he is, only from what you fear." Her gaze shifted back to Adrian, sharp, predatory, and burning with subtle, dangerous heat. "Do you hear that, Adrian? The House itself waits, and it whispers to me as it whispers to you. You cannot resist the hunger forever. And the more you resist, the sweeter the surrender will taste."
Adrian felt the pulse of the shard intensify inside him, a wave of heat spreading through his veins. His body trembled under its demand, and for a fleeting moment, he wanted to collapse against Selene, to let the fire in him burn uncontrolled, to feel every ache, every whisper, every pressure.
Cassia's hands gripped him harder. "No. Don't listen. You're not theirs to take. Not the shard, not Selene, not anyone." Her voice was almost a scream, yet it was tender, a lifeline thrown into the storm raging inside him.
Adrian's gaze flitted between them. Selene, all fire and command, every movement and glance a promise and threat at once. Cassia, soft yet unyielding, a tether to his humanity, her fear sharpened into a desperate loyalty. And behind it all, the shard, pulsing, coiling, whispering, waiting.
He stumbled back, gripping the wall to steady himself. "I… I can't let it control me. I won't."
Selene's laugh was low, deliberate, and full of dark amusement. "Oh, my defiant little flame. How many times can you throw yourself against the walls before the hunger finds a crack?"
Cassia pressed her forehead to his shoulder, whispering fiercely, "Then don't throw yourself against it alone. I'll be here. I'll stay here. With you. You're stronger than you think, Adrian. Stronger than it knows."
The chamber itself seemed to respond, the shadows twisting, curling, leaning closer. The House was aware — alive, and hungry, and it delighted in testing them. Every whisper of the wind, every movement in the corner of Adrian's vision hinted at more trials, more hunger, more temptation waiting in the depths of its endless corridors.
Adrian closed his eyes, his chest aching with exhaustion and desire alike. The mark throbbed, a living pulse, and he felt the shard stir. Its voice was no longer a shout, no longer a command — it was a hum, a soft insistence. Feed. Take. Be. Give.
Selene stepped closer, letting the heat of her body brush against his arm. "Do you feel it? Even now, it pulses. Even now, it whispers to you, beckoning. You can pretend you resist, but the truth is — you crave it."
Cassia's nails dug into his skin as she pressed against him. "You crave freedom. You crave yourself. Don't confuse the two. Don't let her take that away from you, Adrian."
Adrian's vision blurred with conflict. Every nerve in his body screamed for indulgence, for surrender. Yet the smallest, most human part of him — tethered to Cassia's touch, anchored to her devotion — whispered that he could survive this hunger, that he could define it rather than be defined by it.
The House exhaled around them, and the shadows writhed like serpents in anticipation. The faint hum of whispers returned, curling into words Adrian could almost make out: Choose. Decide. One path. One flame. One hunger.
He forced himself to take a steadying breath, and for the first time, he spoke with authority, voice shaking but firm. "I… will not be theirs. Not the shard, not this House, not anyone."
Selene's eyes narrowed, lips curling in slow fury and admiration. "Bold words. Foolish words. You will learn their weight."
Cassia's grip on him tightened, her relief palpable. "Good. That's all I needed to hear. That's all you needed to know — that you're still you. That you haven't been taken."
But the House did not relent. Shadows lengthened, walls creaked, floorboards groaned. Somewhere in the depths, the faint echo of the Feast lingered, a promise that the trials were far from over.
Adrian felt the shard stir, a coil of hunger beneath his ribs. It was patient. It was endless. It was hungry for everything he could never give willingly. And yet, in that moment, he also felt the tether Cassia offered — fragile, human, but real.
He sank to his knees, breath ragged, letting the warmth of her presence seep into him, grounding him. Selene's gaze burned into him like a brand, a warning and a challenge both.
The House whispered again, low and insidious, and Adrian knew — the hunger would rise again. The tests would come. And one day, he might not resist.
But for now… he had Cassia. He had himself. And that was enough.
The chamber fell silent once more, though the tension lingered in every shadow, in every whispered promise, in every heartbeat. The shard waited. Selene waited. And the House, eternal and watching, waited as well.
Adrian exhaled, leaning into Cassia's touch, his body trembling with exhaustion and desire alike. Whatever the next trial brought, he would face it. Not as a vessel. Not as prey. But as himself — for however long that would last.