The moon hung low over the Duke's manor, casting strange shadows across the gleaming marble corridors. Cedric leaned his back against the railing of the grand balcony, gazing down at the garden far below, his mind a thousand miles away. His knuckles were clenched white as he grasped the stone railing.
He had been a fool.
Allying with Aric meant playing a game a thousand times more sinister than he had ever conceived.
And now, there was no turning back.
Behind him, the big doors swung shut softly. Cedric spun around—only to see Aric Vaelmont before him, his face a mask.
"You look nervous, Cedric," Aric said smoothly, stepping into the light of the moon.
Cedric let out a breath, trying to seem nonchalant. "Should I not be? You've led me into something dangerous."
Aric laughed. "Dangerous? No. Necessary."
He stepped forward once more, his presence oppressive. "You know what I like about you, Cedric? Your pride. But pride… is a flaw too."
Cedric flushed. "What do you mean?"
"That I am not capable of weakness, Lord Cedric. And neither are you."
And then, before Cedric could take a step back, Aric flashed up his hand—and Sovereign's Brand ignited around him.
Dominion's sigil flashed, its red runes crossing into a knotted pattern in the air between them. Cedric gasped as a weightless force wrapped around his arms and legs, holding him fast.
"W-What is this?!" he bellowed, his body rigid as Aric approached.
"This, Lord Cedric, is Sovereign's Brand," Aric whispered, voice steady. "A mark of loyalty… or submission."
The sigil burned more fiercely, and Cedric fell to his knees, his body bucking in waves of heat and oppressive force. His heart thudded in his ears, his very essence resisting the power that was imposed upon him.
"Fight as hard as you're able," Aric panted. "It won't make a difference."
Cedric clenched his teeth. His aristocratic blood howled at him to resist—but the magic crept into his brain like pilfering vines, twining his thoughts, chaining his will.
And then the pain shifted.
Obedience.
A queer feeling crept into Cedric's heart, constricting his loyalty, reordering his priorities.
His mutinous eyes faded.
The instant the sigil took complete hold, Aric drew a deep breath—and the light vanished.
Cedric was on his knees, gasping, his face white.
Then, slowly. he raised his head.
"How are you?" Aric asked, observing intently.
Cedric blinked.
For a moment, there was a bewildered look in his eyes. Then—clarity.
"I feel… fine," he growled.
He hesitated, then bent his head.
"I see now. You were right."
A smug smile spread on Aric's lips.
"Of course, I was."
Aric reached out a hand, and Cedric accepted it easily, standing up.
The change was achieved.
No longer a possible traitor, no longer a threat.
Cedric was his.
"Now," Aric said, his voice as smooth as silk. "Shall we play?"
Cedric nodded, his allegiance no longer in doubt.
The game had just turned in Aric's direction.