I walked into the master bedroom and quietly closed the door behind me.

Nala and Jasmine were already asleep.

The room was dim, lit only by the city glow sneaking in through the curtains. Both of them were sprawled comfortably across the bed, all loose limbs and slow breathing. For a second, I just stood there, watching them, then peeled my clothes off and slid under the covers.

I settled in the middle.

Almost immediately, Jasmine shifted. Still half-asleep, she moved closer, draping one leg over mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her face nudged against my shoulder.

"Hey, handsome," she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

I smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She smiled back without opening her eyes, yawned, and rolled away again, already gone.

I stared up at the ceiling and let out a slow breath. God, I was exhausted. The convention, the noise, the people—it had drained the hell out of me.

Beside me, Nala stirred. She yawned quietly, then reached out, finding my hand and pulling it around her waist. I turned toward her as she shifted closer, backing into me, her body warm against mine. She laced her fingers with mine and settled, her breathing evening out again.

Then Jasmine, apparently not done claiming space, rolled closer from the other side and wrapped her arms around my back, hugging me in her sleep.

Pinned. Completely.

I huffed out a silent laugh, then relaxed into it, eyes finally closing.

Yeah.

I needed this. And within seconds, the exhaustion won, and I drifted off to sleep.

"Evan."

A voice reached me through a heavy fog, distant and muted, like it had to travel through layers of sleep before it could touch me. I tried to move, tried to open my eyes, but my body didn't respond. My limbs felt heavy, locked in place.

"Evan."

Another voice followed, louder this time, coming from somewhere to my left. The sound carried weight, authority, and it made my chest tighten.

When my eyes finally opened, I immediately knew something was wrong.

I wasn't in my bed.

The ceiling above me was wooden, dark and polished, stretching high enough that the beams disappeared into shadow. Warm orange light flickered across the surface, moving slowly, alive. I pushed myself upright and realized where I was.

That place again.

The mansion.

The wide fireplace stood directly ahead of me, flames crackling steadily inside it. The fire cast long shadows across the floor and walls, stretching and shifting with every movement of the flames. Above the mantle, a small rectangular window revealed the same impossibly blue sky I had seen before, a sky that felt artificial, frozen in time.

I stood there, facing the fire, my heartbeat slowly picking up as my surroundings came into focus. Last time I had been here, the room had been full. Goddesses lounging on couches, watching me with interest, judgment, amusement.

Now it was empty.

No figures sitting by the fire. No eyes on me. Just silence and the low crackle of burning wood.

I turned slowly, scanning the room. The mansion felt even larger without anyone in it. Doorways stretched off into distant hallways, the polished wooden floor reflecting the firelight faintly beneath my feet. The air felt thick, heavy, like it pressed against my skin.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "Where am I?"

"Mana!"

The sudden voice came from my left, sharp and clear, cutting through the quiet. It echoed faintly through the room, coming from behind a closed door.

My stomach tightened instantly.

I took an instinctive step backward, panic flaring before I could stop it. My eyes darted around, searching for somewhere to hide. Spotting a couch near the center of the room, I moved quickly and crouched behind it just as the door swung open.

Someone stepped inside.

I pressed myself lower, heart hammering, careful not to make a sound.

Peeking around the edge of the couch, I saw her.

Pink hair, short and slightly messy.

Miko.

The same woman from that twisted bar, the one who had helped take down Sarah. She walked into the room with an irritated expression, her hand coming up to rub her forehead as she sighed. She was dressed casually, almost indecently so, wearing a thin tank top that clung to her chest and shorts that barely covered her hips.

"Damn it," she muttered to herself, looking around the room. "Where this woma—"

"Here."

Another voice interrupted her from the hallway beyond the door.

Footsteps followed, slow and confident.

The door creaked open again as someone else entered. I quickly pulled back into my hiding spot, my breath shallow and controlled. I could only see part of her at first, long legs stepping into the room before stopping a few feet from Miko.

Mana.

Miko walked past her and dropped into one of the single couches near the fireplace. Mana followed, taking a seat on the couch directly in front of where I was hiding. My chest tightened painfully as I realized how close she was.

I stayed completely still, knees pressed to the floor, muscles locked, afraid that even breathing too loudly might give me away.

"Karamine," Miko said, leaning back. "And her subject."

"Dierella's subject," Mana corrected calmly. "She stole him from her."

"Whatever," Miko replied with a dismissive wave. "He's been racking up points. Good ones, too. Even though he started later than our subjects."

"So what?" Mana asked. Her tone was neutral, almost bored. I heard the soft shift of fabric, likely her crossing her legs. "What are you implying?"

"I picked up a new subject recently," Miko continued. "A guy who swings both ways. Works as a hooker. Even though he sleeps with anyone who breathes, I'm not even close to Dierella's numbers."

"Emotion generates the highest yield," Mana replied. "You know that."

"I don't want to lose this year's Indicfrelation," Miko said sharply. "Last year it was you. The year before that, Karamine. And now it's supposed to be Dierella?" She scoffed. "She's never won before, Mana. We can't let that happen."

"What," Mana said, her voice sharpening slightly, "are you suggesting?"

"I'm just…"

"Weren't you the one who helped him at that bar?" Mana shot back.

"I didn't know things would escalate like this," Miko continued, irritation seeping into her voice. "We need to intervene."

"Intervene how?" Mana asked.

"You're the strongest among us," Miko said slowly. "We can use that."

Mana did not respond immediately.

"How exactly?" she asked after a moment.

"Make him your subject," Miko said. "Once he's under your command, end him."

A chill ran down my spine.

"You want me to kill him?" Mana asked.

"You've done it before," Miko replied quietly. "Ondilin's subject turned up dead in his house. She claimed she didn't even feel it happen."

"Their bond was weak," Mana said.

"Bullshit. Because you took him under your wing," Miko snapped. "And eliminated him at the perfect time. Ondilin was about to win. You were second."

Silence filled the room.

I felt sick.

They were talking about people as if they were disposable pieces, tools to be removed when inconvenient. Subjects. Games. Wins. Losses. A human life meant nothing more than a score.

Mana stood up.

I risked another glance.

She had moved to stand in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames, her posture rigid, thoughtful. The fire reflected in her eyes as she watched it burn.

"Dierella spent the last of her power rewinding time for that girl," Mana said. "Mendy. Evan agreed to become her subject because she offered help."

"You're Mana," Miko said softly, stepping closer. "You win these games. You could take him with ease."

They were talking about me.

"We didn't let Silk go for nothing," Miko whispered near her ear. "Do what needs to be done. Kill him."

A sudden flash of lightning lit the room through the window. For a split second, my shadow stretched across the wall.

Both of them saw it.

I pulled back instantly, heart slamming against my ribs, panic flooding my body. Footsteps rushed toward me as another flash of lightning illuminated the room again.

I didn't have time to think.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

I woke up with a sharp gasp, sitting upright in my bed, sweat soaking my skin. My heart was racing uncontrollably, breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

My bedroom.

The clock glowed faintly on the wall. The sheets were tangled around my legs. Nala and Jasmine were gone from the bed, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Voices murmured somewhere in the living room, but my heartbeat was so loud that I couldn't make out any words.

I stared ahead, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to ground myself.

My hands were shaking. Whatever that was, it didn't feel like a normal dream.

And the thought that stayed with me, long after my breathing slowed, was terrifyingly simple.

They were... they were watching me.

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