Seraphine’s Pov
The chamber smelled of smoke and iron, thick enough to choke. Shadows stretched across the walls, swallowing the corners whole. Lord Verret stood there, silent, unmovable, his eyes gleaming like black fire.
“Strip,” he said.
The word cut into me sharper than any blade. My lips trembled. “What? Why?”
His voice was calm, cold, absolute. “If you are not ready for what is to come, speak now. But if you agree, there is no return. Not tonight. Not ever.”
I should have refused. I should have demanded dignity, demanded release. But I heard myself whisper instead:
“I’ll do it.”
He tilted his head, not smiling, not frowning. “Then begin.”
My fingers shook as I untied the silk at my shoulders. Each layer falling away felt like another piece of me, my pride, my divinity, my st
