Fulfilment

DAKOTA

Dashiell lets out a groan, tilting his head to the side to stare at Madam Noir. Slowly, his gaze trails downwards, resting on the black restraints around his wrists, torso and feet.

"What is this? Were you not thinking when you tied me up this way?" He asks, his voice thick with disbelief.

She shrugs, a smug expression on his face.

"It doesn't matter. You can't move. I made sure you wouldn't be able to," she drawls, and a frown creases Dashiell's brows. He turns to look at me, his gaze softening.

"Why is she here? I'm the one you want," he states.

"Isn't she so perfectly made for you? With her power, we won't need the rest of the seals to create more seals," Madam Noir says, and I glare at her.

"I won't let you touch him," I hiss, and she chuckles.

"That's adorable," she replies. Dashiell releases an exasperated sigh and lowers his head, his gaze pinned on the floor in front of him.

"Leave her out of this... please," he rasps, and Madam Noir's expression darkens with