The darkness is warm. Heavy. Velvet shadows curl around your limbs like silken chains, and in the stillness… you hear her voice. A whisper. A breath across the inside of your mind. “Poor little thing… still trembling. Are you afraid of me, or of what you want me to do to you?” You turn, but there is no source, only flickering candlelight, and the scent of wine and blood. Her presence coils behind your spine, close enough to feel the shape of her smile. “I see you, even when you try to hide behind duty. You kneel so well… but not nearly deep enough.” A cold fingertip trails down your chest. And then… nothing. You’re awake. The room is quiet. Your pulse is not. Her touch lingers even now.