Jason stopped pretending.
That was the first thing Loraine felt.
No gentle voice.
No careful smiles.
No apologies whispered into her hair.
Just presence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
The house itself seemed to bend to him now—lights dimming when he entered, doors locking without a sound. The guards no longer looked away from her with pity. They looked afraid.
Of him.
The Change
"You saw," Jason said one evening.
It wasn't a question.
Loraine sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands folded like a child waiting for punishment.
"I smelled your fear that night," he continued calmly. "It tasted different. Sharper."
She swallowed.
"I didn't want you to find out like that," he said, almost thoughtfully. "But now that you have… there's no reason to lie anymore."
He knelt in front of her.
Slowly.
His eyes shifted—not fully red, but no longer human either.
"You are afraid of me," he said.
She nodded.
The nod cost her everything.
The Truth, Finally Spoken
"I am not what you married," Jason said. "But I am what chose you."
Her chest tightened.
"I protected you," he went on. "I healed your mother. I gave you a world you would have died trying to reach on your own."
He smiled.
"And all I asked was loyalty."
She whispered, "You asked for ownership."
That did it.
Jason stood so fast the chair behind him crashed to the floor.
"DON'T," he thundered, the walls vibrating with it. "DON'T twist this."
His voice changed—layered, deeper, wrong.
"You are alive because I wanted you alive."
She flinched.
He stopped instantly.
His face twisted like he was in pain.
"Don't look at me like that," he begged suddenly. "Don't fear me."
Then—cold again.
"But fear is better than defiance."
The Monster Steps Forward
From that night on, Jason ruled openly.
He decided when she slept.
When she ate.
Where she stood.
When she refused his touch again, he didn't rage.
He smiled.
"You're learning," he said. "Fear makes you careful."
He locked her away—not always in rooms, sometimes in silence. Days would pass with him watching her from across the room, unmoving, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
She started sleeping with the lights on.
It didn't help.
Ethan's Name
Jason said it casually one morning.
"You still think about him."
Her breath hitched.
"I broke him once," Jason continued, adjusting his gloves. "Did you know he begged me to stop?"
Her vision blurred.
"I let him live because you cried," Jason said softly. "Don't make me regret mercy."
That night, she threw up.
Jason held her hair back.
"See?" he murmured. "I take care of what's mine."
The Final Warning
Later, he stood before the locked door—the forbidden one.
"This room," he said calmly, "is where disobedience ends."
He turned to her.
"You don't need to see it again."
Again.
Her heart shattered.
He stepped closer, towering now, shadow stretching unnaturally long across the floor.
"I am not human," he said plainly. "I never was."
His eyes burned fully red.
"And I will not lose you to one."
Questions That Taste Like Blood
If Jason no longer hides—how much worse will he become?
Can love survive when fear replaces tenderness?
Will Ethan risk death to face the demon again?
And now that the monster has stepped forward…
how long before Loraine realizes the cage has no lock—only a keeper?