The heavy door to Darian's private room closed behind Callie with a sound like a breath held too long. Candlelight cast long, wavering shadows across the dark velvet curtains and the wide bed draped in midnight silk. The air was heavy with sandalwood, amber, and the faint metallic tinge of anticipation. Her skin still bore the faint red marks of the morning's silk strings; her body still vibrated with the day's denials, every nerve raw and hypersensitive.

Darian stood by the fireplace, his shirt unbuttoned to his sternum, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, tense with a silent force. He watched her enter, his eyes dark and unreadable, letting the silence spread until it pressed against his ribs.

"You've proven your worth without a single misstep," he said finally, his voice low and deliberate. "Flawless. But public obedience is superficial. Tonight we will delve deeper."

Callie felt a lump in her throat. She knew that tone: the one that promised not cruelty, but the annihilat