The Abyss trembled. It was alive, breathing in cadence with Seris's accelerated heartbeat. Shadows stretched and coiled around her, responding to her movements, to her power, and to Mason's obsession that tethered her in ways she could neither escape nor fully understand. Every step through the black corridors felt simultaneously like freedom and imprisonment.
"You are mine," Mason whispered, appearing from the darkness without sound. His silver eyes glinted with obsession, possessive and consuming, and shadows wrapped around him like living chains. "Every heartbeat, every spark of defiance… mine. Even your acts of independence… only feed the tether."
Seris's chest heaved, hands shaking as she summoned shadows into blades. "I am not yours," she said, voice quivering, though the words rang hollow even to herself. The Abyss pulsed violently in response, as though it could feel the intensity of the bond threading them together.
"You are already mine," Mason murmured, stepping closer. The heat of his presence pressed against her like fire. "And every time you resist, every time you defy… it only strengthens the obsession. You will crave it, Seris. And I will feed it, endlessly."
From the depths of the shadows, rival gods emerged, molten-gold eyes blazing with hatred and centuries of malice. Seris's pulse spiked, but she did not hesitate. Shadows twisted and struck, blades of darkness slicing through enemies, amplified by Mason's obsessive tether. Each movement she made was intensified, threaded with the dangerous, intoxicating presence of the man she hated, feared, and yet longed for.
"You see?" Mason's voice was a caress and a command, threading into her mind. "Every act of power, every flicker of defiance… belongs to me. Every heartbeat… you are mine, whether you accept it or not."
She gasped, twisting and striking with a force she had never felt before, her goddess-blood energy flaring like molten fire. The Abyss responded, alive and reactive, shadows coiling protectively around them both, striking at any who dared approach. She could feel Mason's obsession threading deeper with every pulse, every strike, every flicker of resistance.
When the last rival god fell, she collapsed, trembling and gasping, chest heaving with exertion and the overwhelming heat of the mark. Mason knelt beside her, his silver eyes softening just enough to make her shiver, yet sharp enough to warn, possess, and claim. "You are mine," he whispered, brushing a shadowy tendril along her hairline. "Even your resistance… only feeds the tether. And one day… you will want it. You will want me. And you will not be able to deny it."
Seris pressed her hands to the mark, the heat coiling through her veins, threading her power, her fear, and her desire into an intoxicating storm. She hated him. She feared him. And yet… she wanted him. The Abyss itself seemed to breathe, alive with recognition, shadows curling protectively and possessively, acknowledging the obsessive, inescapable bond between them.
Her awakening had begun—not just to her goddess-blood power, but to the tether that bound her to Mason forever. Resistance was futile. Desire was inevitable. And the chains that connected them—obsessive, fiery, eternal—had only just begun to tighten.