Therrin's POV
Therrin's breath caught in her throat as the air around her shifted — a cold, yet strangely electrifying presence filling the room. The shadows deepened, folding in on themselves like dark petals unfurling, and from within them, the Mistress emerged, her eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge and something darker, something hungry.
"You are stronger than you know," the Mistress whispered, voice both velvet and steel. "But strength without control is chaos. I will teach you to command what lies within."
Ari seethed in the back of Therrin's mind, her voice sharp and bitter. Don't listen to her. She's poison.
But Therrin felt the pull — the power, the promise. "What must I do?" she asked, voice trembling with both fear and a rising hunger.
The Mistress smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of lips. "First, you must surrender — not your body, but your mind. Let the shadows speak, and learn their language."
Inside her head, Ari struggled, desperate to break free, but the Mistress's grasp tightened, weaving shadows like threads around Therrin's will.
The room felt smaller somehow, shadows curling tighter as the Mistress stepped closer. Her presence was intoxicating — not like Ciaran's possessive fire, or Dion's quiet intensity, but a dark, endless ocean pulling Therrin under.
"Your power frightens you," the Mistress said softly, brushing a spectral finger along Therrin's jaw. "But fear is a chain you will learn to break."
Therrin's pulse hammered in her ears, but the Whisper Veil muted all sound but the Mistress's voice and the thrum of shadows brushing her skin. Inside, Ari raged — a storm behind her eyes, pushing against invisible bars.
You're losing yourself, Ari hissed. You can't trust her.
But Therrin barely heard the words. Instead, she felt the Mistress's magic seep into her bones, a cold fire that burned away hesitation and wrapped tendrils of command around her heart.
"Feel," the Mistress instructed, voice slipping into her mind like liquid velvet. "Let the shadows speak to you."
Therrin's eyes fluttered shut. The darkness inside her stirred, alive and whispering secrets she'd never dared to understand before. She saw shapes — tendrils twisting like smoke, pulses of power echoing with each heartbeat.
Ari screamed in protest, but the Mistress drowned out the cries with a lullaby of shadows — soothing, binding, impossible to resist.
"Speak to me, child," the Mistress coaxed. "Tell me what you feel."
Swallowing the knot of fear, Therrin whispered, "Power… cold but alive. Like it's breathing."
"Yes," the Mistress purred. "Your power is part of the darkness, part of me. We are entwined. You will learn to bend it, to shape it. To use it not just to survive — but to conquer."
Inside, Ari's voice cracked like thunder. Conquer? At what cost?
But Therrin barely heard. Her fingers twitched, the shadows responding — curling around her wrist like soft chains, a gentle pressure that somehow made her feel more whole.
"Good," the Mistress breathed. "You accept what you are. That acceptance is your first lesson."
The hours passed — or maybe it was minutes, maybe days — time blurred as the Mistress taught. She wove images and commands into Therrin's mind, shadow lessons on control and release, on the seductive edge between pain and pleasure, between fear and desire.
Ari battled silently in the background, trying to claw her way to the surface, but every time she surged forward, the Mistress's influence pushed back, smothering her like a shadow over the sun.
You don't belong to her, Ari whispered fiercely. You belong to me — to Dion — to your true self.
But Therrin only felt the Mistress's touch — both terrifying and tender — drawing her deeper into the dark lessons.
"Why do you fight me?" the Mistress asked her voice low and curious.
"Because I want to protect her," Ari answered sharply, her voice echoing inside the mental chamber they shared.
The Mistress's laugh was soft, amused. "And yet, here you are — trapped and silenced. Protection is an illusion, dear Ari. Power is control. And control is the only truth that remains."
Therrin felt the weight of those words settle inside her like cold stone. Was Ari wrong? Was her fight futile? Or was this darkness the only way forward?
She thought of Ciaran — the fire that burned between them, fierce and possessive but comforting. She thought of Dion — the gentle touch and longing that still whispered in her veins despite the bond's fracture.
And she thought of the Mistress — the cold, inevitable shadow claiming more of her.
"Will I lose myself?" Therrin finally asked, her voice trembling.
The Mistress's smile was sad and knowing. "You will lose the parts that held you back. You will become what you are meant to be."
Ari screamed inside her mind, a soundless scream of rage and desperation.
Don't let her take you.
But Therrin only nodded, feeling the last threads of resistance unravel. The Mistress's power was intoxicating — a dark promise she couldn't deny.
The first light of dawn barely touched the chamber where Therrin knelt, the shadows thick and alive around her. The Mistress lingered nearby, a presence felt more than seen, her dark silk-like cloak shifting like smoke.
"Today marks the beginning of what you must learn," the Mistress's voice was low, smooth — a calm tide beneath the storm raging in Therrin's chest.
Therrin's breath hitched. She was caught between wanting to recoil and needing to lean in closer, to drink in the forbidden knowledge slipping through the Mistress's words like liquid shadow.
Ari raged silently in her mind, a sharp knife of resistance.
You don't belong here. This isn't you.
But Therrin's lips pressed together, eyes fixed on the floor. The truth was more complicated. She was afraid. But also curious. And something darker — a craving — simmered beneath the fear.
"Show me," the Mistress commanded softly, "what you feel when the shadows touch you."
The shadows responded immediately, slipping across Therrin's skin, cold and delicate as lace, caressing her arms and neck. Her fingers twitched involuntarily.
Ari screamed, a scream of helpless fury, but she was muffled — caught beneath the weight of the Mistress's power.
Therrin closed her eyes, trembling as the whispers of shadows trailed across her skin, twisting inside her like secrets she never knew she held.
"Good," the Mistress said. "Now, feel the power within. It is yours. It always was."
"Yours," Therrin echoed, tasting the word as if it were poison and honey both.
She felt the shadows pulse beneath her skin — a heartbeat of darkness alive with promise and peril.
Ari fought back, pushing to the surface of her mind, desperate for control.
Remember who you are. Remember Dion. Remember me.
But Therrin's hands tightened on her knees, her breath shallow.
The Mistress smiled, sensing the fragile thread between them fraying.
"You resist because you fear loss," she whispered. "But surrender does not mean death. It means becoming."
For hours, the Mistress taught her the language of shadows — how to hear their soft murmur, to let their tendrils weave through her thoughts, to taste the pulse of power in every breath.
Therrin felt herself unraveling and reknitting all at once — a knot of fear and fascination tightening deep in her core.
The shadows wrapped around her wrists like gentle chains, then loosened, teasing and enticing.
"You will learn to command them," the Mistress promised. "To wield their darkness as a weapon and a shield."
Ari screamed again, louder this time, and for the first time, Therrin felt the echo of her twin soul's fury deep inside herself.
She opened her eyes, dark and wide. "Why won't you stop her?" she asked aloud, voice trembling.
The Mistress stepped forward, her eyes shining with dangerous light.
"Because this is your path. Your power is bound to mine. And together, we are unstoppable."
Ari's voice cracked with desperation.
You are not hers. You are mine.
Therrin felt the words like a blow, but she also felt the Mistress's hand—cool and possessive—resting on her shoulder.
And she wondered… who was really winning?
The Mistress did not waste time with pleasantries or empty promises. She came like a storm wrapped in shadow, and the moment her presence filled the room, I knew my world was about to fracture further.
I was alone — or so it seemed — but Ari's voice sliced through the darkness inside my mind, sharp and accusing.
You're stepping into darkness you won't come back from.
I swallowed the cold lump rising in my throat, gripping the edges of my own sanity. The Mistress's voice was a low purr, velvet and menace wrapped in one.
"You've only just begun to understand what your power can do," she said, stepping closer until the air around me felt charged, electric with potential and threat. "The shadows are not just weapons or shields. They are extensions of your deepest self — your hunger, your fear, your desire."
I wanted to argue. To tell Ari she was wrong, that I wasn't losing myself. But the Mistress's fingers brushed my skin — not with touch, but a weight of expectation. The shadows bent and flickered at her command, and a part of me ached to wield that power.
"Close your eyes," she whispered. "Feel beyond what you know."
I did. The world melted — colors dimmed, sounds dulled. Inside, the darkness stretched wide and deep, like an ocean I'd never dared to dive into. But now, the Mistress was pulling me beneath the waves.
Ari screamed inside me — anger, fear, pleading — but I let it wash over me. The Mistress's voice became my anchor.
"Let the shadows teach you what you cannot learn from those who bind you."
I felt cold tendrils slipping inside, not painful but invasive, stirring something raw. Memories I thought buried — secrets whispered only in dreams — surfaced, tangled in shadow. Power surged, unsteady but alive.
"Good," the Mistress said softly, sensing my hesitation. "Now, reach. Shape. Command."
I tried. The shadows responded, not with perfect obedience but with will of their own — playful, teasing, sometimes cruel. I faltered, frustration biting at my nerves.
"You resist," she murmured, her voice dark silk sliding against my mind. "But resistance is a cage. Power lies in surrender."
And suddenly, Ari's voice was different — quieter, almost lost beneath the Mistress's storm.
This isn't surrender. It's control you're losing.
But the Mistress's shadows swirled faster, tightening around me like a lover's embrace and a captor's chains all at once.
"Tomorrow, you'll push beyond this," she promised. "But tonight, rest. The shadows will keep you safe — and remind you who owns your soul."
I wanted to shout, to fight, to choose Ari. But a small voice inside me whispered: Maybe the Mistress is right. Maybe this is what I need to become whole.