After the fight, Seris collapsed against a pillar, trembling from adrenaline and power. The rival god had been forced back, but the Abyss was alive with danger.
Mason appeared, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him—a dangerous, intoxicating heat she hated to crave.
"You could have been killed," he said, his voice low and sharp, silver eyes boring into hers.
"I can handle myself," she shot back, though her chest heaved violently.
Mason's lips curved slightly, shadows curling around him like smoke. "Yes," he murmured, "but I will not allow it. You are mine, Seris Vale. Every heartbeat, every thought, every spark of power… mine."
The mark on her chest flared violently, as if responding to his obsession, and a heat lanced through her body. She wanted to recoil, to push him away, but the pull was irresistible.
"You… you're dangerous," she whispered, voice trembling.
"And you," he said softly, leaning closer, "are the only thing I have ever feared losing."
The Abyss seemed to shudder at his words. The shadows twisted around them, alive with the energy of their bond.
For the first time, Seris realized the terrifying truth:
Mason's obsession was not just possessive—it was protective, intoxicating, and absolute.
And she… wanted it.