Chapter 6 Vivian
VIVIAN
Iturned slowly in the room. The sheer size of it was almost disorienting, like being placed in the middle of a cavern filled with gold.
It wasn’t what I’d expected, not by a long shot.
I had been prepared for a cold, damp space.
A dungeon with rats scurrying around. But this?
This was the opposite of everything I had imagined.
The bed, a monstrosity draped in crimson silk, practically dominated the space. The golden accents on the headboard glimmered and seemed to taunt me.
Look how easy it is to trap you.
I ran my fingers along the carved wooden posts, wondering if the gold was real.
It probably was, since The Shadow had obviously convinced the majority of The Below to bow before him.
I closed my eyes, remembering how the audience at the convention had stopped talking when he approached the stage.
Even Ciro hadn’t attempted to argue with him when he’d insisted on taking me as his prisoner.
The son of a bitch was probably the richest man—or monster—in The Below.
Every piece of furniture, every fixture, was designed to impress and intimidate. Dark woods, plush carpets, velvet drapes… it was luxury dripping with menace.
The crackling of the fireplace was all that broke the oppressive silence in the room.
There was an ornate sitting area to one side, with a dark mahogany table and wingback chairs that looked like they’d been ripped straight from some ancient castle.
It was all too comfortable. The kind of comfort that felt like a trap, a velvet-lined cage designed to lull me into a false sense of security.
Sighing, I wandered over to the windows and pulled open the heavy drapes.
The view outside was nothing short of depressing.
His territory was just as decayed and lifeless as I remembered from the drive in.
Buildings crumbled like old bones, streets covered in a perpetual mist that clung to everything like a disease.
I wasn’t sure what I expected—flowers and sunshine?
I scoffed. The Shadow’s world was as bleak as his heart.
The thought almost made me laugh, but a knot of bitterness twisted in my chest. My eyes stung, but I blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. No. I had no more tears left. Not for him. Not for this.
I turned away from the window, pacing the length of the room as my mind raced.
Why had he brought me to a place like this?
It was practically a palace suite. Certainly not what you’d offer a prisoner.
Then again, maybe that’s what he wanted.
To remind me I was at his mercy, even if the bars of my cell were lined with gold.
Fiancée. The word tasted bitter on my tongue. The Shadow’s fiancée. I almost gagged at the thought. Suddenly, a far worse possibility came to mind, and I froze mid-step. Will he expect me to consummate this so-called marriage?
A shudder ran through me. The idea of him—whatever he truly was—touching me sent a wave of revulsion through my entire body.
Did he even have a physical form? A cock?
Or was he just a mass of swirling shadows, as cold and untouchable as the darkness he wielded?
I had never glimpsed his face, never seen anything but those dark clouds that clung to him.
For all I knew, there was nothing that remotely resembled a human beneath those shadows.
I dropped down on the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. I had been running on pure adrenaline since the convention. The reality of my situation was crashing down on me now, like a thousand-ton weight.
I’m engaged to a monster. A monster who could snap his fingers and reduce me to ash if he wanted to.
But no, he didn’t want to kill me. Not yet. He wanted something else. Control? Power? Some twisted sense of ownership? Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Maybe he’d grow tired of me after a while and decide I wasn’t worth the effort.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus.
No more crying, no more falling apart. I was in his territory now, but that didn’t mean I was helpless.
I’d survived in The Below before, and I could do it again.
If I could just get through this damn dinner with him and play along with whatever game he was playing, I might find a way to escape.
If I could make it past his guards, past the wards that probably surrounded this place like a magical fortress, I could reach Vincenzo and Celeste. They’d know what to do. Hell, they’d probably enjoy tearing The Shadow to pieces if it meant getting me back.
You can do this, I told myself, clenching my fists. But even as I tried to rally myself, my stomach twisted with dread.
A soft knock at the door broke through my thoughts. I shot up from the bed, instantly on alert. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I watched the door, half expecting The Shadow to burst through again, demanding I get ready for dinner.
But it didn’t open right away. There was another gentle knock, softer this time, as if whoever was on the other side was hesitant to disturb me. I swallowed hard and wiped my hands on my thighs.
I took a steadying breath, pushing down the wave of anxiety that had my heart racing. This was it. The Shadow had probably decided it was time for round two—maybe to assert his dominance or simply toy with me some more.
Bracing myself, I flung the door open, ready to unleash all the pent-up rage I hadn’t let myself fully express. But instead of coming face-to-face with him, I found myself staring into the gentle, yet unnervingly sharp eyes of an older woman.
Her silvery hair was pulled back into a flawless chignon, her dark green robes embroidered with intricate silver threads.
The fabric glimmered in the dim light, hinting at the magic woven into it.
Her presence was both serene and commanding, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside my mind.
She held a mug in one hand and a measuring tape in the other.
“Hello, dear,” she said with a soft, maternal smile. “I’ve been sent to get your measurements.” Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped into the room and closed the door.
I blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. This wasn’t what I had expected. “Measurements?” I said more harshly than I intended. The adrenaline still pumping through my veins made it hard to soften the edges.
“Yes,” she replied, completely unfazed. She held out the mug, the distinct scent of chamomile wafting up with the tendrils of steam. “And I brewed some tea for you. Thought it might help take the edge off.” Her lavender eyes glimmered with an otherworldly light that hinted at fae heritage.
I took the mug hesitantly, staring into its murky depths. “Does it have anything stronger in it? Because, honestly, it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than chamomile to settle my nerves,” I muttered as I brought the cup to my lips.
She let out a soft, melodic laugh. “No, just the herbs. But I assure you, they work wonders if you give them a chance.”
I took a reluctant sip, letting the warmth spread through me. She flung the measuring tape over her shoulders and took a step closer. “May I?” she asked, gesturing toward me.
I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Do I even have a choice?” I set the mug down on the ornate dresser, keeping my eyes on her. Despite the older woman’s calm demeanor, something about her made my instincts scream to stay on guard.
She nodded slowly, acknowledging the unspoken truth between us. “No, not really. It would be better without the towel, of course.” There was no malice in her tone, just a matter-of-fact acceptance of the world I now found myself in.
Grumbling under my breath, I dropped the towel to the floor.
She began to measure my waist, her touch surprisingly gentle, and the cool fabric of the tape brushed against my bare skin.
It made me realize, with an unpleasant twist in my gut, just how exposed I was.
I was naked, in front of a complete stranger, in this sick, decaying world that belonged to The Shadow.
“Who are you?” I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. “I’m assuming you don’t take the measurements of The Shadow’s reluctant hostages for a living.”
She smiled slightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “My name is Eldora. I’ve worked for The Shadow and his family for many years.”
“You say that so calmly,” I muttered, watching her hands as she adjusted the tape around my hips. “Then you must be well aware of the monster he is. I suppose he’s already told you about his brilliant plans to force me into marriage?”
Eldora’s calm expression didn’t waver. She continued her work with a steady hand, moving the tape to measure my shoulders. “Yes, he told me,” she said simply, as if discussing the weather. “My advice to you, dear, would be to do as he says. Your life will be much easier if you comply.”
I stiffened, biting back the torrent of curses threatening to spill from my mouth. Her calm acceptance of the situation grated on me. “And you’re just okay with that?” I spat. “Him forcing someone into marriage, threatening my life, and using my friend as leverage? Are you really that dead inside?”
Eldora paused for a fraction of a second, her gaze flicking up to meet mine. There was something behind those lavender eyes—regret, or maybe just the ghosts of too many years spent in servitude.
“I’m not here to question his decisions,” she said softly. “I’m here to ensure his plans proceed smoothly. But understand this—resistance will only make things harder for you. Sometimes, survival is about choosing which battles to fight.”
“Spare me the wisdom,” I snapped, stepping back the moment she finished measuring my arms and covering myself with the towel again. “I don’t need life advice from someone who’s clearly given up fighting a long time ago.”