Cassian
The compulsion released like a vise loosening around Cassian’s mind, leaving him gasping and disoriented in the small holding room where his father had locked him. For the past three days, he’d been nothing more than a puppet—his body moving at Valerius’s command while his consciousness screamed helplessly from behind walls of supernatural control.
But compulsion, even from a sire, required energy to maintain over extended periods. And Valerius needed his son functional enough to serve specific purposes.
Cassian pressed his palms against his temples, trying to ease the splitting headache that always followed the release of compulsion. His father had been careful—never holding the control for more than six hours at a time, always allowing enough recovery for his mind to remain in
