chapter 15
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Chapter 15– Into the Fire
The world was burning.
Not with ordinary fire—but with black-gold flames that seemed alive, as though they had been waiting for this moment to break free. They licked the walls of the masquerade hall, swallowing silk drapes and chandeliers as if they were nothing more than kindling. The music had died long ago, replaced by screams, sobs, and the thunderous roar of destruction.
Isabella could barely breathe. The air was thick, smoke clawing into her throat, but her body refused to move. All she could see was Ethan—his body writhing on the ground as shadows tore through his veins. His scream had been raw, inhuman, as if something was splitting him open from the inside.
And then—Damian’s fire.
It swallowed the shadows like predators, burning them away with a furious, divine hunger. The darkness that had poisoned Ethan shrieked as if it had a voice of its own, then scattered into ash.
Ethan collapsed, limp, chest heaving in shallow gasps. Alive. Barely.
Isabella dropped beside him, hands shaking as she clutched his cold fingers. “Ethan, please… stay with me,” she whispered, her tears dripping onto his skin. His pulse fluttered weakly under her touch. Relief slammed through her chest, but it was twisted, poisoned—because she knew why he still lived.
The price had been her.
Her head turned slowly, almost against her will. Damian stood just beyond the dying flames, his figure cut from shadow and fire, his golden eyes glowing like a predator savoring his hunt.
“It is done,” he murmured, voice velvet and steel. “He breathes because you chose me.”
The words sank like knives into her chest. She wanted to scream that she hadn’t chosen him, not truly—that she had been trapped, cornered. But deep down, a part of her knew the truth: she had spoken the words. She had given herself over to save Ethan.
Adrian staggered to his feet across the hall, sword trembling in his bloodied grasp. His voice cracked, hoarse and furious. “You’ve chained her, Damian. You’ve poisoned her soul.”
Damian didn’t even glance at him. His gaze stayed locked on her, heavy, consuming. “No,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “She chose freely. Didn’t you, Isabella?”
Her lips parted. The answer clawed at her throat—No. Never. Not you. But the words didn’t come. Her silence was louder than a confession.
Damian stepped closer, each stride deliberate. The heat of him washed over her before he even touched her, burning away the cold that had seeped into her bones. His shadow fell across her like a vow of possession.
“You are mine now,” he whispered.
The words curled around her like chains of silk and steel. A sentence. A promise. A doom she had walked into with her eyes open.
Adrian’s voice cracked the silence. “Isabella… don’t let him own you.” He was totally shattered by what he had seen in her eyes a moment ago.
Her heart twisted painfully at the sound of his broken plea. But when she looked up, it was Damian’s eyes that caught her—not Adrian’s. Something in them pulled her in, dark and magnetic, a fire that promised both destruction and a twisted kind of freedom.
Her pulse stuttered. Her breath caught. She should have looked away. She didn’t.
Damian extended his hand.
And she took it.
---
The masquerade collapsed around them, walls buckling under the storm of fire and shadow. Guests fled in terror, their jewels and silks smeared with ash as they screamed: witch, traitor, chosen. The words chased her like daggers, but Isabella didn’t look back.
Adrian’s shout echoed behind her, raw with desperation. She flinched, her heart tearing in two—but the storm swallowed his voice.
Damian’s grip burned in her hand as he led her through the chaos. Flames parted for him, shadows bent to his command, clearing a path as though the world itself recognized its master.
“Do not falter,” he said, his voice low and unshakable. “You belong to me now. Walk as if you know it.”
Her throat constricted. She wanted to rip her hand free, to spit in his face, to run. But her feet kept moving. The choice had already been made.
---
By the time they reached the citadel, her body was trembling.
The fortress rose from the mountain like something carved by gods—black stone spires twisting toward the sky, walls lined with torches that burned with fire that would never die. The gates opened soundlessly at Damian’s approach, as if the stone itself bowed to him.
Inside, the air pulsed with heat, alive with unseen flames. Servants lowered their heads in reverence as he passed, their fear palpable. Yet Damian dismissed them with a flick of his hand.
“Leave us.”
The hall emptied, silence pressing in. Only Isabella remained, trapped in the echoing chamber of fire and stone with the man who had claimed her soul.
He turned to her then, his golden eyes gleaming in the flickering light. He didn’t chain her. He didn’t need to. His presence was the chain.
“You are not a prisoner here,” he said, stepping closer until she could feel the heat of him lick against her skin. “You are a queen in fire, if you dare embrace it.”
Her laugh broke, harsh and trembling. “A queen? I gave you my soul for Ethan’s life. That’s not a throne—it’s a cage.”
His smile was slow, dangerous. “You mistake freedom for chains. Every part of you already leans toward me. Why lie to yourself?”
Her body betrayed her—the way her pulse quickened, the way heat flushed her cheeks. She hated the truth of it: part of her didn’t resist him.
And Damian knew it.
---
He led her deeper into the citadel, into a chamber where the fire burned higher than the ceiling, roaring like a living beast. The flames bent as he raised his hand, parting to form a circle of blazing light.
“Speak the words,” he commanded, his voice both gentle and merciless. “Bind yourself before the fire, or Ethan’s life unravels.”
Her heart thundered. Adrian’s broken voice echoed in her memory—Don’t let him own you. But Ethan’s pale face flashed before her eyes, tethering her choice.
Damian’s gaze pinned her. Waiting. Demanding.
Her throat tightened. She wanted to scream, to curse, to run. But her voice came out in a whisper, trembling yet unbreakable.
“I… am yours.”
The flames roared higher, a violent crescendo that shook the chamber. Heat seared the air, wrapping around her body like a brand.
Damian’s lips curved, victorious, hungry, patient. He didn’t touch her—not yet. His victory was deeper. He had her will, her allegiance.
And the terrifying truth? For the first time, Isabella felt a dark relief. The struggle of resisting him was over. Submission, terrible as it was, felt like release.
That realization chilled her more than any chain.
---
The fire died down slowly, until the chamber was lit only by the glow of embers. The silence pressed against her, suffocating, intimate.
Damian stepped close, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed her ear, his voice a dark caress.
“From this night forward, Isabella, you are bound not by force, but by choice.”
Her body shuddered, betraying her again.
“And soon,” he whispered, his lips almost touching her skin, “you will crave it.”
She closed her eyes. Not only from fear.
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- Writer
