A sudden chill swept over her skin.
It wasn't the gentle kind.
It bit.
Samara's breath hitched as the cold seeped deeper, sharp and unforgiving. Her teeth clenched, a faint tremor running through her body as the sensation returned all at once—stronger, heavier.
Uncontrolled.
"Adrian!" she called, her voice cutting through the stillness.
He appeared a short distance away.
Instantly.
But something was different.
The usual smugness was gone. His expression sharpened, eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the atmosphere around her—the shift, the pressure, the energy curling unpredictably in the air.
And her.
Samara stood rigid, her breathing uneven. A faint glow flickered in her eyes, subtle but unmistakable.
Unnatural.
Dangerous.
Adrian didn't move.
For once—
He didn't speak.
Samara's gaze locked onto him.
Focused.
Intent.
Then—
She imagined him closer.
And reality obeyed.
One moment he stood at a distance—
The next—
He was right in front of her.
Too close.
His eyes widened, just slightly.
Her hand moved before he could react.
Fingers closing around his neck.
Firm.
Unyielding.
The air stilled.
For a brief moment, even Adrian didn't resist.
His hand hovered at her wrist, not yet pushing her away—more… assessing.
Measuring.
Samara's grip tightened just enough to make a point.
Her eyes burned faintly, the glow more pronounced now, something deeper surfacing beneath her control.
"From now on," she said, her voice low, steady—but laced with something unfamiliar, something that didn't quite belong to her—
"You don't disobey me."
A pause.
Her gaze didn't waver.
"Do as I say."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Tense.
Adrian's expression changed.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Something else.
Slowly—
A smile returned.
But it wasn't the same as before.
"He told me to bring you," Adrian said quietly."I couldn't disobey."
Samara's grip faltered.
Not enough to release him—
But enough to show it.
Confusion flickered across her face as his words settled in.
He?
For a brief moment, her thoughts stalled.
Then—
They began to piece together.
The man.
The one in the orchard.
The way he had stood there—calm, unmoving, as if her arrival had been expected.
No—
planned.
Samara's eyes narrowed slightly, her mind sharpening as it retraced every detail. His presence… it hadn't just been powerful.
It had been controlled.
Deliberate.
Like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
And more importantly—
why.
Her grip loosened further, her hand slowly dropping from Adrian's neck.
"…You brought me here," she said, her voice quieter now, more calculated than before.
Not a question.
A realization.
Adrian exhaled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as if the pressure had been nothing more than an inconvenience.
"I did," he admitted.
Samara turned away from him slightly, her gaze drifting into the distance—but her thoughts were anything but unfocused.
Why?
The question echoed in her mind, louder this time.
That man… he had looked at her like she wasn't a stranger.
Like she was something—
important.
Her jaw tightened.
"I don't like being moved around like a pawn," she said coldly.
Adrian chuckled under his breath.
"You're not a pawn."
A pause.
"Not even close."
Samara's eyes flicked back to him.
"Then what am I?"
For once—
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
His gaze lingered on her, something unreadable passing through his expression.
Then—
"Someone worth moving the board for," he said.
Silence followed.
Samara didn't respond.
But the question remained.
Louder.
Heavier.
More dangerous than before.
Why me?
And somewhere deep inside—
A part of her already feared the answer.
"Take me back."
Her voice came out quieter than she expected.
But steady.
Controlled.
Adrian inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of a bow.
"As you wish."
The world shifted.
No warning.
No transition.
One moment, the night air clung to her skin—the scent of damp grass, the lingering tension, the echo of his presence—
The next—
It was gone.
Replaced.
The familiar training grounds stretched before her, still and silent beneath the dim glow of lantern light. The orchard, the man, the unsettling weight of that encounter—
All of it felt distant.
Too distant.
As if it had never happened.
Samara didn't move immediately.
For a brief moment, she simply stood there, her gaze unfocused, her thoughts catching up to her body.
Then she exhaled.
And began to walk.
Slow.
Measured.
Each step grounded her further in reality, but it didn't erase the feeling coiled tightly in her chest.
Something had changed.
She could feel it.
Not just around her—
Within her.
The memory lingered vividly.
His voice.
His gaze.
The way he had looked at her—
Like he knew her.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Annoyance flickered.
No—
Not just annoyance.
Frustration.
She didn't like not knowing.
Didn't like being pulled into something without understanding it.
And yet—
That wasn't what unsettled her the most.
It was the feeling that… a part of her had already stepped into it willingly.
Samara slowed as she reached her door.
Then paused.
"…Where was that place?" she asked.
Adrian appeared beside her without a sound, as if he had always been there.
For once—
He didn't answer immediately.
His gaze lingered on her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
Then, quietly—
"The royal grounds."
Samara's eyes narrowed slightly.
"The palace?" she pressed.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Close enough."
That wasn't an answer.
And they both knew it.
Samara turned her head just enough to look at him, her expression sharpening.
"You're avoiding the question."
Adrian's smile deepened—just slightly.
"Yes."
No denial.
No excuse.
Just truth.
Samara studied him for a moment longer before turning away.
"…Fine," she muttered.
Her hand reached for the door.
But before she stepped inside—
"You'll be going back there," Adrian added casually.
That made her pause.
Not out of hesitation.
But interest.
Slowly, she turned her head.
"And why would I do that?" she asked.
Adrian met her gaze.
This time, there was no amusement in his expression.
Only certainty.
"Because," he said, his voice quiet but firm,
"he's not done with you."
Silence settled between them.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Samara's grip on the door tightened slightly.
For a moment—
She said nothing.
Then—
A faint smile curved her lips.
Not warm.
Not amused.
Something sharper curved at her lips.
"Good," she said.
A pause.
Then, almost as an afterthought—
"By the way… what's his name?"
Adrian hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Subtle.
But noticeable.
"…Caelion."
The name settled into the air between them, quiet but heavy—like it carried more weight than it should.
Samara hummed softly.
As if it meant nothing.
As if she hadn't just memorized it.
"Caelion," she repeated under her breath, testing the sound, letting it roll off her tongue.
Then, without another word—
She stepped inside.
The door closed behind her.
But the name lingered.