"𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑽𝑼𝑺: 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑾𝑰𝑵𝑮"

“𝟑: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲”

When Corvus’s hand gripped my waist and pulled me toward him, the last inch of space between us evaporated instantly. As my chest collided with his firm ribcage, I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

This wasn't just a touch; it was a declaration of ownership. His eyes were locked onto mine with a glow more ambitious than the flames in the fireplace. He was so close that the scent of soot and tobacco filling my lungs with every breath clouded my mind.

"Don't hold your breath, Elara,"

he whispered. His voice was so deep that I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from trembling.

"This isn't your prison; it’s your sanctuary. But in this sanctuary, I am the one who decides when you breathe."

His hand on my waist climbed slowly up my back, searing my skin like a hot coal. Every movement was so controlled and dominant that I was certain he could hear the frantic rhythm of my heart. When his gaze dropped to my lips, the room felt devoid of oxygen. I wasn't afraid; this feeling was something far more dangerous, far more scorching than fear.

"What do you want from me?"

I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.

"Did you bring me here just to display me like a trophy?"

Corvus leaned in closer, that mocking yet captivating smile playing at the corners of his lips. When his lips were close enough to brush my ear, a wave of electricity surged through my body.

"I don't collect trophies, Elara. I collect souls. And yours... it’s so fierce that taming it will be the greatest pleasure of my life."

He released me slowly but didn't take his eyes off me. He gestured toward the stairs leading upward.

"Go to your room now. The one prepared for you. Something is waiting for you there. Wear it and join me for dinner. Do not keep me waiting; just as I hate sharing, I despise waiting."

As he turned toward the fireplace, I thought the immense pressure on me might lift. But no; even when he wasn't there, his presence watched me from every stone of this mansion. As I walked toward that dark corridor, only the crackle of the fire and the roar of my heartbeat followed me.

The room was larger and darker than I expected. Grey velvet curtains, windows overlooking the restless Black Sea, and a massive bed in the center... But my eyes focused immediately on the bed. There, on the stark white sheets, sat a pitch-black box. It was as if a part of Corvus had seeped into this room before I even arrived.

With trembling fingers, I opened the lid. A midnight blue silk dress slid out, flowing through my fingers like water. Beside it lay a small note. The handwriting, like its owner, was sharp and angular:

"I want to see the night draped over you. Don't be late, Elara. Impatience is my greatest sin."

Beneath the note lay a single raven feather, dried and painted black. I pressed the dress to my chest and walked to the window. Outside, the silhouettes of guards moved like shadows in the dark corners of the garden. There was nowhere to run. I looked at my reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror. Corvus wanted my soul. But as I put on this dress to descend those stairs, I would give him only one thing:

“The first spark in which he would drown in his own darkness.”

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I struggled to recognize the woman looking back. The midnight blue silk clung to my body like a serpent, completing the image of the captive yet proud woman Corvus desired. The deep plunge of the back made me feel vulnerable, as if his gaze were already tracing the curve of my spine.

I adjusted my hair and stepped back into the room. I took one last look at the black feather on the table.

It wasn't just a signature; it was a challenge. As I reached for the door handle, my heart hammered against my ribs. I stepped out into the seemingly endless, dimly lit corridor.

When I reached the top of the stairs, the mansion’s silence was broken only by the fierce crackle of the fireplace. My heels echoed on the marble steps as I saw Corvus waiting for me in the center of the hall. His back was to me; the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, hands in his pockets, watching the dance of the flames.

As the broad, unstoppable shadow of his shoulders hit the walls, I couldn't help but feel like a small bird entering a giant’s lair.

At the final step, the sharp click of my heels made Corvus turn slowly. In that moment, time seemed to stop. His gaze started at my feet and climbed slowly up to my face, claiming every curve of my body as his property. The pitch-black darkness in his eyes flared, as if a fire had started within and the smoke had reached his pupils.

He closed the distance between us silently, like a shadow, and stood right before me. His scent—that smoky, tobacco-laced, dangerous cologne—filled my lungs once more. He raised his hand, his fingertips barely brushing the midnight blue silk of my dress. A wave of electricity shot down my spine; my knees felt ready to buckle, but I didn't break eye contact.

"You surprise me with your timing, Elara," he said, his voice echoing like a vibrating bass inside my chest. "And this dress... I knew it would look like a blessing on you, but this... this is dangerous enough to light up even my darkness."

He leaned in, his face inches from mine, his warm breath fanning over my lips.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, his voice more of a promise than a warning. "Because I can see the desire you hide beneath the hatred in those eyes. And I can turn even hatred into a weapon to get what I want."

Corvus placed his hand on the small of my back, right where the deep plunge of the dress began. I shivered at the touch of his warm leather glove but didn't pull away. As he led me toward the grand dining table under the dim lights, he whispered one last time:

"Tonight, we won't just seal your father's debts; we will seal the fact that you belong to my world. Welcome, Elara; you just took the first step of no return."