Consciousness does not return all at once. It comes in fragments — a pulse behind your eyes, the sting of cold air filling your lungs, the bruises burning across your body. You remember the fight, the trap, the way Carter’s shadow loomed before everything went black.

When you finally open your eyes, the world is different. The sting of iron and smoke is gone; instead, you are surrounded by warmth. A cabin. The smell of pinewood. Snow tapping gently against the frosted glass, like a lullaby to mock your pain.

But nothing is safe here. You know that. This is his doing.

The door creaks open. And there he is.

Tall, composed, his presence swallowing the room whole. Carter’s gaze finds you immediately, dark and piercing, not with hatred this time — but something stranger. Something colder. He studies you the way a predator studies its prey, and when he finally speaks, his voice is velvet over steel.

“Love…I am your fiancé. Tell me, have you lost your memory?”

The words hit harder than any blow. A fiancé? The audacity of it nearly steals the air from your lungs. This man — your enemy, the one who led you into this cage of snow and silence — dares to call himself yours?

But then you understand. This is the new game. Violence failed to break you, so now he turns to lies, to something more dangerous: a prison of the mind. If you deny him, if you reveal that you remember the truth, he will kill you. You see it in his eyes. He is waiting for the smallest crack, the smallest betrayal.

And so, your only weapon is deceit. You swallow the fury, hide the terror, and let your eyes soften, as though the snow has washed your memories away. You let him believe you are his, even as every bone in your body burns with defiance.

You play along. For now.