Chapter 4: A Surrender to Fate

Seraphina's heart pounded as she met Elias's gaze, her pulse a steady drumbeat in her ears. The system window flickered, waiting for her answer.

She took a breath, then let the words fall from her lips.

"I surrender myself to fate... and to you."

A soft chime echoed in her mind—

⟡ [Correct Choice – Hidden Route Unlocked] ⟡

Elias's expression didn't change at first. His violet eyes remained unreadable, his posture composed. But then, slowly, his lips curved into something deeper—a knowing smile.

A smile that sent heat curling in her stomach.

"I see," he murmured, stepping closer.

Seraphina resisted the urge to step back. She had played this scene before—from the safety of a screen, clicking through dialogues. But now?

Now, she was standing in the grand temple, bathed in golden light, Elias Montclair mere inches away.

"Such devotion…" he mused, reaching out. His fingers barely grazed her wrist, the lightest touch of fabric against skin, yet it sent a shiver down her spine. "I wonder… do you even know what you are offering?"

Her breath caught. This was exactly how it played out in the game.

If she didn't back out now, the next sequence would trigger.

A test of obedience. A test of surrender.

⟡ [You have entered Elias Montclair's Forbidden Route] ⟡

The air between them shifted, thick with something unspoken. The temple walls, the flickering candlelight, the scent of incense—everything felt intoxicatingly close.

Elias tilted his head, watching her with quiet amusement. "Shall we put your faith to the test?"

This was it.

Seraphina had chosen the path of no return.

The chamber was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from flickering candlelight reflecting off golden chalices and embroidered silken drapes. Unlike the grand halls of the temple, this private sanctum was shrouded in intimacy, designed for prayer, solitude—or something far more sinful.

Seraphina stood near the doorway, her pulse hammering as the heavy wooden doors shut behind her with a resounding finality.

Elias Montclair turned to face her, the faintest smirk curving his lips. His silvery hair glowed in the candlelight, a stark contrast to the darkness of his violet gaze—a gaze that saw through her, into her.

"You followed without hesitation," he murmured, his voice like silk against her skin. "Do you understand what that means?"

She swallowed, heat curling low in her belly.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, until he was standing so close that she could feel the faint brush of his robes against her. The scent of incense and something deeper, something purely him, filled her senses.

"It means you are willing to surrender."

Seraphina's breath hitched.

She had played this scene before. In the game, it was a test—Elias's way of breaking past the barriers of resistance, of morality, of control. But now, standing in his presence, the weight of his gaze on her, it felt real.

His fingers lifted, brushing over the delicate fabric of her sleeve before tracing up the curve of her neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver coursing through her.

"Do you fear me?" he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

A system prompt flickered in her vision—

⟡ [Choice Detected] ⟡

1. "Yes, but I don't want to leave." (Submissive)

2. "I trust you, even in sin." (Devoted)

3. "Fear is not what I feel right now." (Bold)

Seraphina's lips parted. She knew the game mechanics—each choice dictated the depth of Elias's control. And she knew what the bold response would lead to.

Her voice was steady, yet laced with something dangerously close to longing.

"Fear is not what I feel right now."

Elias's breath hitched—so brief, so imperceptible, she might have imagined it. Then, slowly, his smirk deepened.

"Then show me," he murmured.

Before she could react, his hands were on her, firm yet controlled, sliding over her arms, her waist, claiming space she hadn't realized she was willing to give.

The sanctum, the sacred space, the flickering candlelight—it all blurred into the background as Elias tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His thumb brushed over her lips, slow, reverent, as if she were something holy.

And then, with a whispered "Kneel."

She obeyed.

⟡ [Scene Progressing…] ⟡

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