He swipes a fresh tear from my cheek, still smiling, as he clutches my throat tighter, slowly suffocating me, even as the knives stab me once more to keep my heartbeat rapid.

“With this, I’ll finally be able to prove I’m the strongest Morpheous Alpha. I’ll be awarded my family’s name for the first time, and be titled as Head of House, just as I’ve deserved to be all along.”

The next image that assaults me is one of him over my body, both of us naked, and I scream in protest, only to be choked by a fresh pour of blood.

“If I do this right,” Dorian says, both in my head and in my ear, his voice nearly taunting me with all his sadistic enjoyment, “you’ll bear my mark by the time we’re through. You only get one Flame, Violet. You’ll never be able to take another, and Damien will have no choice but to surrender you to me. They’ll have no choice but to deal with me instead of him. It’ll be me at the center of all the power. I’ll take his place in every way.”

“Aaaahahahahahahah!” The Tarzan-like battle cry cuts through my thoughts so randomly that the illusion shuts down, and I glimpse reality.

Dorian has my shirt ripped down the middle, standing behind me, eyes cutting to the side, just as Anna charges into the room. His eyes widen as he’s launched back, too startled to react quickly enough.

All the illusions stop at once, and I drop to the ground, my body wrung out with exhaustion, as I catch the first breath of air that stabs my lungs almost painfully.

Coughing, I hurriedly do the first thing that comes to mind, not even trusting my monster. It’s the first time I’ve ever frozen in fear in my entire life.

The threads all around me finally crash into me, and they swirl my body, as Dorian tangles with Anna long enough to distract him.

“You stupid fucking ghost. Do you really think you’ll get out of this alive?” he snaps.

The threads quickly encase my whole body, shutting off my line of sight, and for the first time in my life, I choose to hide instead of fighting back.

My entire body is trembling, as I cocoon myself inside the safety of the threads. If he breaks through the threads, I don’t want to know.

So, I do the only other thing I know for certain will work, in an effort to combat anymore sadistic illusions or sensations.

I faint.

But when dealing with someone who can invade your mind, fainting isn’t as effective as it usually is.

“Violet,” Dorian’s voice chimes. “Violet, where are you?”

I rock in the corner of my mind, unable to fully black out, because he’s invaded my safe place.

“Violet, you can only hide for so long before I find you. I told you once already, daft girl. I’m the perfect countermeasure to all your little tricks.”

After that, there’s silence for so long that I’m almost certain someone must have come to save me.

The next voice I hear isn’t Dorian’s.

“Violet! Violet, come out! Listen to my voice and come to me!” Damien calls.

I start to go, but pause, confused once again by illusion and reality. Is it really Damien?

“Violet! Violet, where are you?” Damien demands. “Come to me, sweet monster. Listen to my voice.”

Just as I stand up, a shadow falls over me, and my breath catches in my lungs when I see Dorian’s face instead of Damien’s. His lips curve in a sinister grin.

“There you are,” he says in Damien’s voice.

I turn and begin sprinting as fast as I can, as my mind turns into thousands of mirrors, all of the reflections revealing Damien’s face.

He smiles as he laughs.

“Run Violet,” he says in Damien’s voice. “Run all you want. I’ve found you now.”

Another voice whispers to me, one I’ve heard before but can’t place. It’s so low I nearly miss it, but I hear one phrase that doesn’t make any sense.

“Madam Genie’s Fun House.”

Why in the world is someone telling me about a carnival knock-off museum right now?

I glance back, seeing the floors turning into dizzying swirls, and spot Dorian swaying when his gaze lands on them.

Is that a weakness? Did the familiar voice plant the perfect thought in my head?

If it’s a madhouse I need in order to eject Dorian Gray, then I can do that. I can do that well.

This is my mind. It’s a scary place, even for me. Instead of running away, I think up the craziest madhouse I can craft.

The walls shift, and the mirrors turn into those warped ones you find in those creepy mazes. Every dizzying circle gets reflected in them, overlapping with the image of Damien’s face.

As the changes quickly take place, I turn and face Dorian, watching as he sways more, blood dripping from his nose. The lights blare from overhead, shining down more of those patterns, while carnival rides start appearing.

He staggers to his knees, seeming surprised, and I smirk.

The mirrors all shatter at once, and Damien/Dorian curses, as the debris rains from all around.

A roar sounds inside my head, rattling the walls of my mind, as I hurry away while he’s distracted.

I’ll thank the mystery voice later. For now, I’ll just make a fucking mess.

“You don’t know all my tricks,” I whisper with some steadily budding confidence, the tears drying at last.

Chapter 4

DAMIEN

“If I bench Demetria, then I don’t see any reason why this law rules in unfair favoritism,” Idun states with a soft smile, trying to charm us into agreeing with her.

At this point, however, we don’t have much of a choice left.

Every valid point she’s made has ruled out every valid argument we built.

“Law is still law, Van Helsing. Have you forgotten your role?” she prods.

Vance’s forehead is beading with sweat. This is why he hates her so much. I forgot how good she was at using his curse against him.

“There’s no need to fight me on this, when you know you have no real case,” she continues. “Not if I’m conceding my unfair advantage.”

Marta rolls her eyes.

“I’m perfectly fine with beta combat, so long as Demetria is benched. However, if you have another freakishly powerful, uncontested champion emerge, we’ll have no choice but to revisit these chambers,” the Portocale representative tells Idun in a bored tone.

“Arion chose a weak, female beta as his favorite, simply because she looks similar to how I looked when I first seduced him. Vance’s top beta is almost at retirement age. Damien doesn’t even have a beta enlisted to his House. Emit’s betas are barely around, when they’re not plotting mutinies. And the Portocale hunters are nothing more than glorified hags or washed-up, has-been males these days. Should I choose a weak beta just so I can contend on your pathetic levels? Would that be most satisfying?” Idun asks in an amused tone, her grin only growing. “Is this really what a thousand years without me keeping everyone on their toes looks like? How disturbingly pathetic.”

I bristle in my seat, not liking how quickly Marta gives in. I don’t have a beta for fucking disputes. Talbot Lane may be an impressive rogue beta, but he handles most things by running his mouth. Physicality isn’t my people’s strong suit.