"You have demanded too much from me, Jocelyn." Valentine's voice rang out in her conscious mind, devoid of emotions. His voice was foreign to her ears. A chill crawled down her back.

Who are you, stranger? She asked him silently while staring into his unfathomable dark eyes, hoping that the window to his soul would provide her the answer she needed. But instead, her pale, sweaty face stared back at her in his empty, black eyes. Her vision blurred and spun around her erratically. Jocelyn's head throbbed in pain, and she lost her footing. Valentine's hand caught her arm and steadied her. Jocelyn noticed that he kept her at arm length so she wouldn't touch him. She squinted at his stoic face and saw a faint trace of disgust. Pain squeezed her heart.

Why are you looking at me like that? Jocelyn wanted to ask him this, butshe was afraid of Valentine's words that could destroy her. With all the strength she could muster she weakly asked, "What have I demanded from you, Valentine?"

"You have demanded me to love you." His silky voice was laced with venom.

Jocelyn was tired, exhausted from Valentine's love games. She closed her eyes, expecting the drug he gave her to put her mind to sleep. But a pain on her arm cleared her mind and she hissed in pain as her husband's viselike grip on her arm tightened.

"I'm not finished." He reminded her. A thin smile played on his lips. His eyes glittered darkly.

"You are never finished." She told him. Beads of sweat formed on the top of her dry, chapped lips.

He ignored her and continued, "Love is a dictator, Jocelyn. It demands, controls, and declares ownership. As the Song of Songs goes, 'I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.' Love is merely ownership."

"No. Don't quote the Bible at me." She spat at him and he pushed her away from him, revulsion twisted his features. She landed on the wooden floor, hard. The impact caused her to bit her lip from screaming. Copper and salt laced her tongue, but she continued, drawing strength from her words, she said, "Love is unconditional. It is selfless. You give yourself to the person you love, but you don't demand anything from them, not even love."

"To give yourself to someone, as you have given yourself to Lucian?" The look on his face did not waver.

His words hurt her completely. Her heart was beyond healing from the tip of his stele like he had used it so long ago to heal her physical wounds with his gentle touch.

"No, Valentine, to give myself to someone, as I have given myself to you." She did not know why she was wasting her words. "You don't get it and you never will."

She whispered the last words to herself. It was true. She gave herself to Valentine and so did he to her. He wouldn't understand, but even if he did, the Valentine she knew was already dead. A monster only stood before her now, wearing her beloved's face and skin, and it even function and talked like him. Her Valentine was lost to her completely now. She cried within herself as she realized this.

"But I do get it, Jocelyn." She looked to him as he said this, but a shadow crossed his face, and once again, his face was unreadable to her, concealing her from his emotions. "I loved you once. You belong to me, Jocelyn; you are my object of ownership, and nothing more."

Valentine walked out and closed the door behind him. Jocelyn heard the bolt slid in place as he locked it. She heard his quick receding footsteps and then heard nothing.

In the dimness of the basement, she lay, convulsed in pain.

"You tore my heart open, Valentine; your stele won't fix it." She spoke to the darkness.