Rome – 03:11 a.m.
I didn't sleep.
Not even with the silk sheets whispering comfort around my skin. Not with the fireplace burning low and steady in the corner. Not with the collar hugging my neck like a brand cool metal, warm leather, pulsing with something invisible and ancient.
I lay on the edge of a bed that felt too large, too soft, and far too still.
It was the kind of silence that didn't soothe. It listened.
And the silence in this place had ears.
I finally slipped out of bed, bare feet making no sound against the black marble floors. The room looked like something out of a fantasy a decadent, masculine fantasy. Dark walls. Deep burgundy velvet. Chandeliers above the bed twinkling like night stars trapped indoors.
And the windows when I peeled back the curtains looked out onto nothing.
Not darkness.
Not shadows.
Nothing.
Like the world had ended beyond the glass.
I pressed my fingers to the cold surface and saw no reflection. Not even my own.
Panic twisted in my stomach.
"Where the hell am I?"
My body screamed for answers. For escape. But logic whispered, You walked into this.
I had stepped into the lion's den willingly. And now I was prey pretending to be composed.
A soft knock startled me. But when I turned, no one was there.
Just a tray. Set on a silver table by the door.
Croissants, ruby strawberries, two steaming demitasse cups of espresso. A crystal glass of blood-orange juice. The coffee was still hot.
A note tucked under the cup, written in black ink:
"Eat. You'll need your strength. Midnight doesn't wait."
— K.D.
I stared at the note for a long time.
Eat.
Eat like you're not imprisoned.
Eat like you're not property.
The thought made me clench my fists.
But I ate anyway.
Because I was tired.
And hungry.
And part of me already knew I was going to need all the strength I could get.
Four chimes.
A grandfather clock hidden somewhere deep in the house sang out the hour.
It echoed like a death toll.
And then
The door opened.
He didn't knock. Of course not.
Kael Draven walked in like he owned the world.
And maybe he did.
He was shirtless now, dressed only in dark linen pants and an open silk robe that flowed behind him like liquid shadow. On his chest, black ink sprawled in a language I didn't recognize. Script that curved like ancient spells. Symbols that shimmered faintly under the firelight.
I looked away. Too quickly.
And he noticed.
"Look at me."
His voice was smoke laced with iron. Soft, but laced with steel.
I obeyed.
Our eyes met. And I felt it again. That unbearable gravity in his gaze. Like I'd stared too long at the sun. Except colder. Burning inward instead of out.
"I didn't give you permission to leave the bed," he said, walking toward me slowly. Each step deliberate. Each second stretched too thin.
"I wasn't leaving," I said quietly. "I couldn't sleep."
"You don't sleep because your soul remembers what your mind has forgotten."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He stopped directly in front of me. His height cast me in his shadow completely.
"Memories are fragile things. Especially when traded."
"Traded?"
He reached into the robe and pulled out a black envelope. Set it on the dresser beside me.
It was heavy. Embossed. Velvet black with silver ink that shimmered like starlight.
"Midnight Clause 1.13 – Oath of Ownership"
My stomach turned. My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a single thick parchment. Handwritten.
PROPERTY OF KAEL DRAVEN
Effective: Upon the first breath past midnight
Expires: Upon the rise of the blood moon
Subject: Selene Eve Rivers
Payment Rendered: One memory. One surrender. One secret.
Signed: K.D. — S.E.R.
I backed away. "This is fake."
"Is it?" he murmured, eyes fixed on mine. "Because that is your signature. That is your blood on the edge of the paper. You signed it in desperation. With your hands trembling and your voice cracking."
"I, I would remember."
"Would you?" he said quietly, tilting his head. "Tell me, Selene what's your earliest memory?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
Not even from childhood. No birthday cakes. No scraped knees. No lullabies.
Just a cold fog. A flicker of fire. The scent of smoke.
And his eyes.
Watching me from somewhere in the dark.
"Your mind protected you," he whispered. "Mine didn't have that luxury."
He stepped close again. His fingers lifted the chain around my neck the silver moon he had placed there while I slept. He rubbed his thumb over it like he was claiming it. Claiming me.
"Three rules, Selene."
"Le regole della mezzanotte."
"The Midnight Rules."
"Rule One: You will not leave this estate unless I take you."
"Rule Two: You will not touch what is not yours."
"Rule Three: You will not lie to me."
I swallowed. My heart was racing. "And if I break the rules?"
He leaned down, mouth brushing my ear.
"Then I will show you what it means to be truly possessed."
His voice dropped lower.
In Italian:
"Ti mangerò l'anima, lentamente."
I will eat your soul, slowly.
I shivered.
He pulled back.
"You'll be presented at La Tavola Nera in three days. Until then, you'll remain here. Lucien will dress you. Prepare you. Train you, if necessary."
"Train me for what?" I demanded.
"For survival," he said, like it was obvious.
"And for obedience.
As he walked to the door, I couldn't help but speak again.
"Why me?"
He paused.
"Because you share blood with the only woman who ever tried to kill me."
And then he was gone.
Later That Night
I heard the door creak again while I lay half-asleep in the oversized bed.
I didn't move.
I felt him approach.
He stopped beside the bed. I didn't look.
But then I smelled him. Leather and amber and something ancient.
His fingers grazed my hair. Tucked it behind my ear.
He leaned in close.
"Tu appartieni alla mezzanotte."
You belong to midnight.
His lips brushed my neck never quite kissing. Just enough to make me ache.
And then he was gone again.