CHAPTER 149: BONDING RITUAL

She watched his gaze shift—dangerously—to the side. His posture changed as he moved slowly and threw himself onto the bed like her refusal had barely scratched him.

His legs spread, his hands interlocked loosely between them. He tilted his head, long black hair shifting as it fell to one side of his face. He stared at her.

He didn’t say a word.

But he didn’t have to.

His displeasure was palpable.

It rolled off him like a storm, thick and cold, and Aria felt it pressing down on her even before he spoke.

"Would you like to see the monster again?" he asked.

The room stilled.

"Up close this time around?"

Her breath caught in her chest.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t need to.

It was clear her answer didn’t matter.

"...Something is clearly brewing," Zyren continued, his voice dark and deliberate. "And I have no intention of going in blind and weak."

Each word was laced with cold intensity.

And then came the final blow—sharp, cruel, and unmoved.

"For reasons I won’t explain... I need this ritual more than you do. It’s the only reason I allowed you to live."

Aira froze.

The only reason...

She didn’t move.

"I would have killed you," he said, "just like I killed your father and brother—until I saw you present."

Her throat clenched. She couldn’t speak.

"As a human... you’re worthless to me."

The words tore through her like blades. She felt her heart rage—no, burn—as something hot and wild boiled inside her.

Anger. Humiliation. Shame.

But most of all—fury.

And it had no outlet. No escape.

Only Zyren.

And he sat there—watching her. Knowing exactly what he had done.

"Even now... every word that comes out of your mouth is simply to try and manipulate me to do what you want me to do!" Aira said, her voice tight with fury, even as anger burned deep in her eyes. Her breaths came out harsh and uneven. Her chest rose and fell quickly, the adrenaline mixing with the betrayal she felt twisting like a blade in her gut.

She was furious, but at the same time, she was painfully aware of the truth behind her own words. Zyren was trying to rile her up—poke at her wounds, stir her emotions—just to make it easier for him to control her. She could feel it in every gaze he threw her way. Every word he uttered was calculated.

"Maybe..." Zyren responded with a low hum, his tone unreadable. "But if words alone aren’t enough, I can show you." His voice dropped slightly, a subtle threat laced beneath each syllable.

His red eyes glinted with something sharp and dangerous. Aira didn’t miss the gleam—cold, determined, and lacking any mercy—as his gaze bore into hers.

She took several instinctive steps back, heart thudding wildly. The threat was clear now.

"I’ve been good to you," Zyren continued, his tone turning colder. "Rejecting such a good offer makes me realize that I might have been too soft on you."

He meant every word. There was no sarcasm, no jest. He stood tall and still, the kind of stillness that only predators possessed, his gaze locked on her with eerie calm.

A long moment of silence passed between them, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Aira stared at him, unmoving, her fists clenched tightly at her sides, her shoulders stiff. She was prepared for a lashing—verbal or otherwise.

Then Zyren finally broke the silence.

"The ritual will take place in three days," he said without a trace of hesitation. "I expect you to be ready."

His words hit like the crack of a whip, cold and final. He turned around and began to walk toward the door, steps slow and steady, making it clear he was done speaking.

Aira didn’t try to stop him. She didn’t speak. She didn’t even look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Her lips trembled with rage and helplessness. She was disgusted with herself—disgusted that she had allowed herself to feel even the slightest bit of pleasure around such a monster. Torn between bonding with him just to gain the power she craved... or running as far as she could with her sister, Liora, and never looking back.

She was still standing frozen, breath caught in her throat, waiting to hear the door slam shut behind him, when she suddenly heard his footsteps pause.

He’d stopped just after placing his hand on the handle. Then, slowly, Zyren turned his head over his shoulder.

"Just in case," he said in a softer voice, "I’ll have guards sent over to Liora. With this kind of monster running rampant, she needs all the protection she can get."

And then he left, the door closing quietly behind him.

But to Aira, his last words were louder than any scream. They echoed like a gunshot in her ears, leaving behind a ringing silence.

His tone had been gentle. Soft. But all Aira had heard was a threat. A full-blown, unmistakable warning: If you do anything I don’t like, your sister will pay.

Her breath hitched.

Her knees buckled slightly, and she stumbled backward before falling onto the edge of the bed. Sitting down heavily, she buried her face in her hands, shoulders trembling as she felt the heat of tears pool in her eyes.

She didn’t sob. She held it in. Her throat burned, her lips pressed tightly together as if she could physically keep the pain from pouring out of her mouth.

"I need some power," she mumbled under her breath, her voice so low it barely existed. "Just a little. Anything..."

She heaved, trying to keep the sound of her pain locked in her throat, even though everything inside her screamed for release. She wanted to wail—loudly, shamelessly—but she knew that even her cries wouldn’t matter in the halls of that cursed castle.

Zyren would do more than just follow through on his promise. He was the type who enjoyed following through.

With him watching her sister now, there was no way she could run.

Which meant one thing: she had to think. She had to scheme.