Chapter 5

"I can do it!" I snarled. It wasn't a plea. It was a fight. "I can fight!"

Cain didn't even look back. He stepped into the assassin's guard, fluid and lethal. He caught the man's wrist in a grip that sounded like bone grinding on bone.

"You can’t even stand without shaking, Ivy," he snapped. "Shut up and stay out of the way."

"Stop treating me like a doll!"

I stepped forward. My palms were itching. A strange, humming heat vibrated under my skin—liquid fire, screaming to be let out.

*Strike. Now. Left.*

The voice in my head didn't ask. It commanded.

I lunged. No weapon, just raw instinct. I slammed my open palm into the assassin's side. The second I touched that black armor, a shockwave of violet light exploded.

*Boom.*

It sounded like a gunshot. The assassin flew backward, smashing through the heavy oak table. Wood splintered into a thousand shards.

Silence fell. Heavy. Suffocating.

I stared at my hand. It was trembling, but not from fear. The heat was still there, pulsing in time with my heart.

Cain turned slowly. He wasn't looking at the wreckage. He was looking at me. That predatory, hungry look was back—like he’d just found a gold mine in a graveyard.

"So," he murmured, stepping toward me. His boots clicked on the stone. Slow. Deliberate. "The little defect has teeth after all."

"I'm not a defect," I spat, though my voice wavered. "And I'm not your pet."

He reached me in two strides, his presence swallowing the air. He didn't touch me, but he leaned in close. I could smell it—the metallic scent of blood mixed with cold cedar and winter. I had to crane my neck just to meet his eyes.

"You're exactly what I need you to be," he whispered.

His gaze dropped to my lips, then locked back onto mine. The tension was a physical thing, a wire stretched to the breaking point.

"Now, tell me. Where did you learn to move like that? Who taught you to listen to the voice?"

"I don't know!" I snapped. I tried to push past him, but he shifted, blocking my path. "I just... I heard it. And I want to know why my mother's name was on that letter!"

I lunged for the crumpled parchment on the floor. It was stained with a single, dark drop of blood.

Cain’s hand shot out. He pinned my wrist against the wall before I could touch it. Not violent, but absolute. His palm was hot against my skin, his fingers locking like a shackle.

"The letter stays with me," he said.

The flirtation was gone. This was the iron authority of a man who owned everything he looked at.

"Give it back!"

I struggled, twisting my arm, but he only pressed me harder against the cold stone. My chest was heaving, my breasts brushing against the fine fabric of his tunic. I could feel the heat radiating off him—the sheer, suffocating power of an Apex.

"You're overstepping, Ivy," he warned. His face was inches from mine. I could see the golden flecks in his dark irises. "You are here because I allow it. You breathe because I say so. Do not mistake my curiosity for kindness."

"I hate you," I whispered, eyes stinging. "I hate that you think you can just buy a person and keep them in a cage."

Cain’s expression didn't flicker, but his grip tightened. He shifted his weight, pinning me more firmly. His thigh slid between mine—not explicit, but a claim. A reminder of exactly who owned my body and my life.

"Hate me all you want," he breathed, his lips almost touching my ear. "But you'll do it while you're wearing my mark. You'll do it while you're sleeping in my house. Because the moment you walk out those doors, Silas will have your head on a platter within the hour."

I froze. The mention of my step-brother sent a chill through me that even Cain's heat couldn't erase.

"Why do you care?" I asked, my voice small. "You don't even like me."

Cain pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. A dangerous smile played on his lips. "I don't have to like my assets to protect them. You're a key, Ivy. A very rare, very loud key. And I'm not letting anyone else turn the lock."

He released my wrist and snatched the letter from the floor. He didn't read it. He folded it slowly and slid it into the inner pocket of his coat, right over his heart.

"Now," he commanded. "Go to your room. Now. Before I decide your little outburst requires a more... permanent form of discipline."

I glared, jaw tight. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what my mother has to do with this."

Cain didn't argue. He simply stepped forward, his hand gripping the back of my neck and forcing me to look up. It was a predator's hold. Total control.

"You're not leaving this room without my permission," he whispered. "And you're certainly not leaving this palace."

He slammed me back against the wall, his body flushing against mine, trapping me in the narrow space between the stone and his chest. He leaned in, his voice a low, vibrating growl.

"You're not leaving, Ivy. Ever."

*Crash.*

The heavy double doors swung open. A messenger stood there, drenched in blood, clutching a second envelope. He didn't even look at the wreckage of the room or the way Cain had me pinned.

"My Lord," the messenger gasped, coughing up a spray of red. "The seal was broken. The other letter... the one from the Borderlands... it just arrived."

Cain froze. His grip on my neck didn't loosen, but his eyes shifted.

I felt the letter in his pocket. I felt the secret he was hiding. And for the first time, I realized the voice in my head wasn't just telling me how to fight.

It was telling me that the man holding me was lying.