Caleb had died years ago—or at least, that’s what they told me. I mourned him, cried for him, whispered his name in my loneliest nights. My adopted brother, my protector, my everything… gone.

But now he stood before me, alive.

"I'd rather face danger head-on than ‘safely’ live like this! I don't need you—" My voice broke, anger masking my confusion, my fear.

"You don't need me?" Caleb’s voice was low, dangerous. His deep purple eyes locked onto mine, unreadable. "Is that what you think?"

I stepped back. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his military-built body as imposing as ever. But it was his presence—the suffocating intensity of it—that made my heart race.

"All right," he said, softer now. "What do you need? You can tell me."

"You faked your death," I choked out. "Why? Why would you do this to me?"

"We can return to Linkon if that's what you want," he continued, ignoring my question. "If you want to return to the past, we'll rebuild our old house and move in together."

"You’re insane," I whispered.

"And if one house isn't enough, I'll build you a whole maze," Caleb continued, stepping closer. "A place only we understand. Only we can escape."

My heart pounded. This wasn’t the Caleb I had known. Or maybe... maybe I had never truly known him.

"I'll decorate it with everything you could ever want," he murmured, reaching out to cup my face. His touch was gentle, reverent. "It will be the most beautiful prison. And you will never be alone again."

Trapped between the ghost of my brother and the man he had become, I realized the truth.

Caleb never wanted to be my brother.

He wanted me.

And he would do anything to keep me.