Page 31 of Bound to the Dreadlord

The corridors stretch endlessly, twisting deeper into the fortress.

Our footsteps echo, filling the silence, a sound that is too loud, too present.

Sera does not speak.

But I feel her pulse, rapid beneath my fingers.

She does not fight.

She does not resist.

But she does not submit either.

Not fully.

That should amuse me.

Instead, it makes me drag her faster.

We reach my chambers, and I shove the doors open.

The moment I release her, she stumbles back, pressing herself against the stone wall as if putting as much distance between us would make a difference.

It won’t.

I step toward her.

She does not shrink away.

Of course she doesn’t.

She watches me, chest rising and falling, eyes sharp, mouth pressed into a tight line.

She is still covered in his blood.

The sight unnerves me.

Not because she is stained.

But because I do not want her to be stained with anyone else’s blood but mine.

A mistake. Again.

I exhale slowly.

I grab the basin of water from the side table, dampen a cloth, and approach her.

She stiffens.

Good.

I reach for her, and when she does not move, I take that as permission.

The cloth presses against her skin.

The red smears.

My fingers follow the motion, slow, precise, dragging the stain away inch by inch.

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