Chapter 32 · The New Dosage

"Get your hands off me, Sloane!"

Julian slammed back against the cold stone. Hard. His breath came in jagged hitches, but it wasn't just the impact. It was the tether—that humming, invisible leash at the base of his skull. It wasn't a connection anymore. It was a demand.

Sloane didn't budge. She stepped in, boots clicking on the blood-slicked floor. She leaned close—too close. The scent of ozone and burnt iron from the dead Inquisitor filled his lungs. Her eyes weren't on his face. They were locked on his pupils, still shimmering with that unnatural silver light.

"What the hell are you?" she hissed. Her voice vibrated with horror. And something else. Hunger.

"That wasn't psychology, Julian. That was a slaughter. You didn't just break his mind—you erased him."

Julian wrenched his arm. The leash snapped tight. A surge of foreign euphoria flooded his system—a high so violent his knees buckled. He gasped, head lolling back against the wall.

"I... I don't know. It just happened."

"Liar."

Sloane pressed her body against his, pinning him. He could feel the heat of her through the leather armor. The proximity was oppressive. Suffocating.