The House was silent, yet it hummed with anticipation, as if every shadow, every stone, waited for him to falter. Adrian moved carefully through the winding corridors, Cassia's hand clasped tightly around his, her warmth a tether against the shard's lingering hunger. Every step carried the faint echo of the Feast, the pulse of desire still thrumming beneath his skin.
"Adrian," Cassia whispered, her voice soft but firm. "You're still with me, right? You didn't… let it win."
He pressed his hand over hers, drawing strength from the touch. "I… I didn't. I can't. Not yet." His chest ached, not from exhaustion alone, but from the tension coiling through him—desire, fear, power, and restraint all knotted together.
Selene glided beside them, eyes gleaming with dangerous curiosity. Her fingers brushed against his arm lightly, the touch deliberate, provocative, teasing. "You resisted before," she murmured, voice soft as silk. "But the shard grows hungrier. Each moment you resist, it waits. It wants to test you again. And I… I will be there to show you how exquisite surrender can be."
Adrian swallowed hard, feeling the pulse of the shard respond—not with hunger alone, but with something more, something alive in him, insistent: Give. Take. Taste.
The corridor opened suddenly into a vast atrium, its ceiling lost in shadows that writhed like liquid smoke. At the center floated a platform of obsidian, glowing faintly at its edges. Upon it lay three objects: a mirror, a mask, and a small black chest. Each seemed ordinary, yet radiated subtle, intoxicating energy.
Cassia stepped forward, voice tight. "What is this? Another trial?"
Selene smiled slowly, eyes glinting with heat and danger. "It is not what you think, child. It is what he will see in himself. The shard tests not strength, but desire. Each object holds temptation, each a whisper of indulgence or ruin. The question is: which path will he take?"
Adrian felt his pulse accelerate. He approached the platform, every nerve in his body alert. The mirror shimmered, reflecting not his image but his desires, fears, and the impossible hunger coiling in his veins. The mask pulsed with dark energy, promising anonymity and freedom to indulge without consequence. The chest… the chest seemed to thrum, heartbeat-like, promising unknown pleasures and power, the thrill of discovery, the risk of ruin.
He shook his head, pressing a palm to his forehead. "I… I can't let it control me. I can't give in."
Selene stepped closer, her breath brushing his neck. "And yet, every temptation calls to you, Adrian. Do you feel it? Every fiber of your being screams for indulgence. I can guide you through it… make it exquisite, make it yours. You could taste everything without losing yourself."
Cassia's hands clutched his shoulders, grounding him. "Don't listen to her. You're stronger than this. You've resisted the shard. You can resist it again."
The House seemed to lean in closer, walls twisting subtly, shadows creeping toward him. Whispers curled around the edges of his mind, sibilant and intoxicating: Choose. Indulge. Become more. Surrender.
Adrian's vision blurred as the pulse of the shard throbbed through him. Desire and fear collided violently. One instinct screamed for surrender, to touch, taste, and become more than human. Another whispered of restraint, of humanity, of Cassia's warmth and loyalty, of himself.
Selene's lips brushed his ear, voice low and intimate. "Just a taste, Adrian… one small taste, and you'll see how exquisite it can feel. No one will take you, no one will own you. Only the shard, only the fire, only you."
Cassia pressed closer, whispering fiercely, "No! You're not theirs to claim. Not Selene's, not the shard's. You're still yourself. Remember who you are. Remember me."
The shards of thought, sensation, and desire tangled together in a pulse that reverberated through his chest. His hands trembled, fingers brushing toward the mirror first. The reflection shimmered, and suddenly he saw Selene and Cassia reflected in the glass—not as companions, but as embodiments of his desires. Selene, the fire of indulgence, power, and hunger. Cassia, the light of devotion, grounding, and restraint.
The mirror whispered: Look. See yourself. Know what you truly crave.
Adrian's chest tightened. He could feel the shard pulsing beneath his skin, alive, insistent. It was testing him, pushing him to the brink. He wanted to step back. He wanted to run. He wanted to collapse into Cassia's arms and never move again.
But desire, raw and burning, surged forward. A single touch of Selene's hand, a single glance from the mirror, and the shard's pulse thrummed in response, urging, demanding.
Cassia pressed herself against him, almost desperate, whispering, "Stay. Stay with me. You're stronger than this. Don't let it take you."
Adrian's fingers brushed the mirror's edge. The world seemed to shatter around him. Shadows flickered, whispers screamed, and the shard's voice resonated inside his skull: Taste. Feel. Take. You are hunger. You are fire. You are power.
He staggered back, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin. The mirror reflected not just desires but possibilities—what he could become if he surrendered. Power, indulgence, freedom… all wrapped in the dangerous allure of lust and hunger.
Selene's voice slid over him, low and deliberate. "Do you feel it? The fire inside you? Let it guide you, let it show you ecstasy beyond human understanding. One step, Adrian. One small surrender."
Cassia pressed closer, almost trembling, hands gripping his chest. "No! Don't! You're not theirs. You're still you. You're mine. Stay with me."
The corridor seemed to pulse around them. The shadows leaned in closer, the House alive with the anticipation of his choice. The mirror, mask, and chest waited patiently, radiating promise and peril in equal measure.
Adrian's mind spun, pulse hammering, veins alive with the shard's hunger. His body trembled with desire and fear, and the choice before him seemed impossible. One step, one touch, one taste… and he could feel everything.
He faltered.
Cassia's voice broke through the haze, soft but firm: "Adrian… you don't have to choose power, or indulgence, or surrender. You only have to choose yourself. Always yourself."
Selene's hand brushed against his jaw, gentle but provocative. "Even if it means resisting, it will not stop the fire inside you. And one day, you may not resist. But I will be there, always."
The shard pulsed in his chest, responding to every thought, every touch, every heartbeat. The shadows leaned closer, whispering, breathing, urging him to act. The chamber itself seemed alive with expectation.
Adrian closed his eyes, trembling, and made a choice. Not Selene, not Cassia, not the shard. Not indulgence, not restraint, not power. He chose himself.
With a shaking hand, he stepped back from the platform, away from the mirror, the mask, and the chest. The shadows recoiled slightly, the whispers dimming, though not gone.
Cassia pressed against him, sobbing quietly, relief mingling with lingering fear. "You… you did it. You're still you."
Selene's eyes gleamed with admiration, heat, and something darker. "Clever," she murmured, voice low. "But remember… the shard waits. Hunger waits. And so do I."
Adrian leaned against Cassia, chest heaving, sweat and exhaustion coating him. The House was still alive, still watching, still hungry. The shard throbbed beneath his skin, reminding him that this was not the end, only another trial survived.
For now, he had chosen himself. And that was enough.
But he knew… the next trial would come.
And he might not be strong enough to resist it.