Enchanted Shadows

Chapter 42 - Bound by Shadows

**POV:** Maya

The room was dimly lit, the flickering candles casting long shadows across the walls. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection, but it was as if I were looking at a stranger. My eyes were darker, the light within them dimmed by the burden of what I had become.

Loki's words from the battlefield echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of my failures. *You are a danger... you need me.* They had twisted around my thoughts, embedding themselves into my very soul until I could no longer tell where his voice ended and mine began.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence. I turned, my heart leaping into my throat as Loki entered, his presence filling the room with an energy that made the air feel heavy, suffocating.

He closed the door behind him, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "You're upset," he said smoothly, not a question but a statement.

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. What could I say? That I was afraid? That I felt like I was losing myself? The words seemed meaningless in the face of what lay between us.

He moved closer, each step deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. "Maya," he said, his voice soft yet commanding. "Tell me what's troubling you."

I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "I... I don't know who I am anymore."

He stopped in front of me, his gaze softening as he cupped my face in his hands. "You are mine," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You belong to me, as I belong to you."

"I don't know if I can do this," I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. "The power... it's too much."

A flicker of annoyance passed through his eyes, gone in an instant. He leaned in, his breath warm against my skin as he spoke. "The power is not too much. It is you who are too afraid to embrace it."

I looked away, my eyes burning with unshed tears. "I'm not like you, Loki."

"No," he agreed, his voice hardening. "You are not like me. You are weaker."

The words hit me like a physical blow, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued, his grip on my face tightening.

"But that is why you need me," he said, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I can make you strong. I can give you what you crave. But you must trust me, completely."

My breath hitched, his gaze locking onto mine with a fierceness that left me trembling. He was offering me salvation, but it came with a price—a price that demanded my surrender.

"I do trust you," I said, the words shaky but sincere. "I just..."

He silenced me with a finger to my lips, his eyes darkening. "You just what?" he demanded. "You just fear what you could become? You just doubt the power I've given you?"

I shook my head frantically, tears spilling down my cheeks. "No, I—"

"Enough," he cut me off, his voice cold and final. He released me, turning away, his posture radiating frustration. "You are a coward, Maya."

The accusation stung, piercing through the veil of my fear and insecurity. A sob escaped my lips, my hands trembling at my sides. "I'm trying," I choked out. "I'm trying to be what you want."

He turned back to me, his expression softening as he watched my anguish. "It is not about what I want," he said quietly. "It is about what you are. And what you are, Maya, is incomplete without me."

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a tear from my cheek. "You need to accept that," he murmured. "Accept that you are nothing without my guidance."

I stared at him, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. His words were cruel, harsh, but there was a twisted sense of truth in them that I couldn't deny. Without him, I was lost, a storm without an anchor.

"I accept it," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

A slow smile spread across his lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good," he said, his voice like velvet. "Then let us proceed."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, ornate dagger. My heart skipped a beat, fear flashing through me as he held it out to me, the blade catching the dim light.

"Take it," he instructed, his voice steady.

I hesitated, my gaze flicking from the blade to his face. "What... what do you want me to do?"

"Prove your loyalty," he said, his eyes boring into mine. "Show me that you are willing to bleed for what we are building."

My breath caught in my throat, my hands shaking as I reached out to take the dagger. The metal was cold against my skin, the weight of it heavy in my grasp.

"What must I do?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He smiled, a cold, calculated smile that sent a shiver down my spine. "Cut yourself," he said simply. "Draw blood, and let it be a symbol of your commitment to me, to us."

I stared at him in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest. "Loki..."

"Do it," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "Or walk away."

The ultimatum hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My mind screamed at me to run, to throw the dagger down and leave, but my body refused to move. His gaze held me captive, his will overpowering mine.

Slowly, I lifted the dagger, my eyes fixed on his as I pressed the blade to the palm of my hand. I sucked in a breath, the sharp pain slicing through me as I dragged the blade across my skin. Blood welled up, warm and crimson, dripping onto the floor.

Loki's eyes gleamed with approval as he watched, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Good," he murmured, stepping closer. He took my bleeding hand in his, his fingers caressing the wound. "You have proven your loyalty."

I swayed, the pain throbbing in my hand, but his touch grounded me, the satisfaction in his gaze a twisted balm to my suffering.

"Now," he said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. "You are truly mine."

I nodded, the pain in my hand a reminder of what I had just given up for him. I was his, bound to him by blood and shadows, and in that moment, I knew there was no turning back.