The silence of the chambers was a lie. Mia's mind throbbed with a cacophony of foreign sensations, each one a jarring echo of Asher's presence. The bond, freshly forged, hummed beneath her skin, a relentless thrumming in time with her racing pulse. She felt his cold, unwavering will, a possessiveness so profound it was suffocating, yet strangely… anchoring. She felt remnants of his rage from the dungeon, still a distant, simmering heat, and then, sharp and intrusive, a wave of dark amusement. He was thinking of her. He was feeling her fear, her confusion, her simmering defiance, and finding it entertaining.
A choked gasp escaped her lips. This wasn't just a physical mark; it was an invasion, a violation of her very self. Her hands flew to her temples, as if she could physically block the torrent of his emotions, the unsettling whispers of his thoughts that weren't quite words, but pure, unfiltered feeling. Mine. Fragile. Resilient. The words were hers, but the feeling was his, an oppressive weight that stole her breath.
She scrambled off the bed, silk sheets tangling around her legs, the air in the opulent room suddenly too thin. The scent of him, of cedar and cold iron, permeated everything, clinging to the velvet curtains, the polished wood, even her own skin. She was drenched in his presence, inside and out.
Just as she reached the towering windows, seeking some escape in the relentless rain that still lashed against the glass, the heavy oak doors swung open. Asher stood there, a silhouette against the dimly lit corridor, his black suit immaculate, his eyes dark pools that seemed to drink in every tremor of her body. He hadn't bothered with a knock. He didn't need to. He was already in her head.
"Did you sleep well, kitten?" he asked, his voice low, smooth as obsidian, but laced with that infuriating amusement she'd felt through the bond.
Mia whirled around, clutching the silk robe he'd left for her more tightly around her. It was a humiliating reminder of her captivity, the delicate fabric a mockery of her desperate situation. "You know I didn't," she retorted, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound fierce. "I felt every… every bit of your… your thoughts."
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the bond, making her knees weak. "That's the bond, Mia. It grows stronger with proximity, with awareness. It will soon be second nature."
"It's an invasion!" she cried, her voice rising. "You had no right!"
He took a slow step into the room, and the air crackled with his power. "I had every right the moment you signed the contract. This is protection. This is ownership. This is your new reality." His gaze flicked to her wrist, where the mark pulsed faintly. "You are mine, and by extension, your mind, your emotions, your very essence, are accessible to me. And mine to you."
Mia scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her. "Oh, really? So you'll let me feel your pleasure? Your desires?" The words were flung out in anger, a desperate attempt to wound him.
Asher's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint entering their depths. The amusement from before vanished, replaced by a raw, hungry intensity that sent a fresh wave of heat through her. The bond flared, overwhelming, intrusive. She felt a sudden, sharp spike of his desire, a primal, ancient hunger that coiled in her stomach and made her breath hitch. It wasn't gentle; it was consuming, a tidal wave that threatened to drown her. It mirrored something stirring deep within her, a forbidden response that shamed and thrilled her simultaneously.
He had simply allowed her to feel it, a direct answer to her taunt.
"Careful, kitten," he murmured, his voice now a low growl that vibrated in her chest, amplified by the bond. "You might find that what you feel from me is far more than you can handle." He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, predatory. "And perhaps what you feel in return, from yourself, will be even more frightening."
Mia pressed her lips together, averting her gaze, humiliated by her body's traitorous reaction. The bond was a leash, pulling her inexorably toward him, making her acutely aware of every muscle in his tall frame, every subtle shift in his aura.
He stopped directly in front of her, his shadow falling over her entirely. "Today, you begin your education," he stated, his tone suddenly brusque, authoritative. "You are the Prince's bride. You will be presented to my Court. You will learn the customs, the laws, the expectations. And you will obey."
"I won't just stand there and be paraded around like some prize!" she spat, defiance flaring despite the fear.
Asher's eyes narrowed. "You will," he said, the softness in his voice more terrifying than any shout. "This is not a suggestion, Mia. This is a command. And it is your first test. Defy me, and you will learn what true consequences feel like. The bond may protect you from external threats, but it will not shield you from my displeasure."
His words hung heavy in the air, weighted by the unspoken power behind them. Mia felt a cold dread seep into her bones. She had just experienced a fraction of his desire; she could only imagine the depth of his anger. The thought sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with cold.
Suddenly, a woman entered the room, silent as a ghost. She was tall, with skin as pale as marble and eyes the color of emeralds. Her attire was elegant, yet severe. She carried a garment bag draped over her arm.
"My Prince," she said, her voice smooth, her gaze sweeping over Mia with an expression that was both assessing and faintly disdainful. "The attire for the new bride."
Asher nodded, his attention still fixed on Mia. "Ela, you will see to her preparation. She is to be impeccable."
"As you command," Ela replied, her gaze lingering on Mia's bare feet and the borrowed silk robe. It was a look that conveyed utter contempt.
Mia bristled. "I don't need a governess! And I certainly don't need her!"
Asher's hand shot out, grasping her chin firmly, turning her face to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, hard, uncompromising. "You will speak with respect to those of my Court, Mia. Ela is a respected member of the Valerius household. She is here to assist you. And you will accept her assistance. This is not a request."
His grip wasn't painful, but it was absolute. Mia felt the cold edge of his power, a reminder that she was utterly at his mercy. The bond pulsed, amplifying the humiliation and the anger, intertwining them with a strange, unwilling recognition of his authority.
He released her, and she stumbled back a step.
"Ela will oversee your transformation," Asher continued, his voice regaining its smooth, dangerous cadence. "You will wear what is provided. You will follow her instructions. And when you descend to the grand hall, you will do so with grace and obedience. Understood?"
Mia glared at him, her chest heaving, but the answer caught in her throat. Her defiance was a tiny, flickering flame against the roaring fire of his will.
Asher simply watched her, his dark eyes unwavering, patiently waiting for her capitulation. The bond hummed between them, a silent challenge. She felt his expectation, his absolute certainty that she would bend. And more terrifyingly, she felt a sliver of that dark, possessive pleasure he took in her struggle.
With a choked sound, Mia finally bit out, "Understood." The word tasted like ash in her mouth.
A faint, predatory smile touched Asher's lips. "Good, kitten. Now, Ela, ensure she's ready within the hour. I expect her to shine." He cast one last, possessive glance at Mia, then turned and exited the room, leaving her alone with Ela and the suffocating weight of his command, amplified by the silent, relentless thrum of the bond.
Ela stepped forward, her emerald eyes sharp as daggers. She opened the garment bag, revealing a gown of rich, dark fabric that seemed to absorb the light. "Come, human," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "The Prince does not tolerate tardiness. You have much to learn, and little time to do so."
Mia stood frozen, trapped in a gilded cage, the reality of her new life crashing down on her. The bond with Asher was a constant, intimate torment, his presence an inescapable shadow in her mind. She was no longer just Mia Roselyn Hart, a desperate girl from the streets. She was the Prince's bride, a captive in a world of monsters, and her every move, every thought, every emotion, was now inextricably bound to him. And she had just taken the first, terrifying step into that gilded submission.