ep 4

Episode 4: The Crimson Frost

The return to Oulu felt different this time. The penthouse in Helsinki had been a stage, but the manor in the north was a sanctuary—or a tomb, depending on how tightly Miller Levy held the keys.

Outside, the wind howled across the Bothnian Bay, but inside, the master suite was a cavern of shadows and silk. The only light came from the fireplace, casting a rhythmic, bloody glow over the room.

Angelic Lewis stood by the window, her silhouette framed by the frost creeping across the glass. She was wearing a lace nightgown the color of a bruised plum. She didn't turn when the heavy oak door clicked shut. She didn't need to. The air always grew heavy, charged with a dark electricity, the moment Miller entered the room.

The Beautiful Ruin

Miller didn't stay by the door. He moved with the silent, terrifying grace of a winter wolf. He stopped behind her, not touching her yet, but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his wool coat.

"You've been staring at the ice for an hour, Angelic," he murmured, his voice a low vibration against her spine. "Are you looking for a way out, or are you admiring your cage?"

Angelic leaned her head back, almost touching his shoulder. "I'm wondering if the ice feels as trapped as I do. It’s beautiful, Miller. But it’s dying."

Miller reached out then, his large, scarred hand splaying across her stomach, pulling her back against his chest with a sudden, possessive jerk. His other hand moved to her throat, his thumb tracing the pulse that fluttered there like a trapped bird.

"You aren't dying," he whispered, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. "I’m the only thing keeping your heart beating. Without me, the world would have swallowed you whole weeks ago."

He turned her around in his arms, forcing her to look up into eyes that were as dark and deep as the Baltic Sea.

"I don't want you to be a ghost, Angelic. I want you to be my haunting."

The Blood Covenant

He led her toward the small table near the fire. On it sat a vintage bottle of wine and a single, sharp silver letter opener—the one she had seen him use to dismantle empires.

Miller picked up the blade, the firelight dancing off the steel. For a second, Angelic felt the familiar spark of fear, but it was quickly drowned by a strange, intoxicating rush of devotion.

"They say the Lewis family is built on soft silk and sweet words," Miller said, his gaze intense. "But if you're going to stay in the north—if you're going to be mine—you need to bleed a little of that sweetness out."

He took her hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. He didn't cut her. Instead, he pressed the cold flat of the blade against her palm.

"Tell me you want this. Tell me you want the darkness as much as you want me."

Angelic looked from the blade to his face. The dominance wasn't just in his actions anymore; it was in the way her soul seemed to bow to his. She reached out and took the blade from his hand.

"I don't want to be good anymore, Miller," she whispered, her voice a dark velvet. "I want to be yours."

She made a tiny, shallow nick on the tip of her finger. A single drop of crimson bloomed. Miller didn't look away. He took her hand, his eyes locking onto hers as he leaned down. It was a gesture of absolute, terrifying intimacy—a seal on a contract that no court could ever break.

The Surrender

The room felt smaller now, the shadows pressing in. Miller swept her up into his arms, his grip unyielding. He carried her to the bed, laying her down against the black silk sheets.

"You think you're a victim of a debt," he said, hovering over her, his arms framing her head like pillars of stone. "But you're the only thing I've ever truly worked for. I broke your father to get to you. I burned your bridges so you’d have nowhere to run but into my arms."

Angelic reached up, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer until their breaths mingled. "Then don't let me go. Even if the ice breaks. Even if we both drown."

Miller’s smirk was slow, predatory, and devastatingly handsome. He leaned down, his voice a ghost of a promise against her lips.

"I'll never let you go, Angelic. In the north, we keep what we kill."

The Innocence was down. The obsession had just begun.

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