Chapter 8 · The Loop's Trap

"Do it, Silas. Now!"

Viviane didn't plead. She commanded. She was pinned against the cold archive wall, her throat exposed, the pale skin pulsing. I could feel it—the rhythmic, violent thrum of the red bond connecting us.

I gripped the ritual dagger. The hilt was ice, but the blade hummed. It wanted her blood. It wanted it now.

"You're insane," I hissed. My voice cracked. "You want me to just... end it?"

"It's the only way out." She locked her eyes onto mine. Gone was the High Inquisitor who'd hunted me through three lifetimes. She looked terrified. Trusting. "One of us betrays the other. One survives. That's the rule. If you don't do it, Julian wins. We both rot in this hell forever."

*Boom.*

The oak door groaned. Julian’s footsteps echoed outside—slow, rhythmic. The sound of a man who’d already won.

"Tick-tock, Silas," Julian’s voice drifted through the wood, smooth as silk. "I can hear your heart racing. It’s a beautiful sound. The sound of a man with zero options."

I looked at Viviane. Her breath hitched. Her chest brushed mine with every shallow gasp, the space between us vanishing.