And without thinking?—
without breathing?—
without choosing?—
I moved. I crawled the two steps to where he stood. Every breath scraping against broken ribs. Every heartbeat a hammer. The silk dragged against my knees. The diamonds at my ears shuddered. The whispers around the room stopped.
All of it.
Stopped.
Because nothing could compete with obedience that pure.
That broken.
Thatbeautiful.
I reached Wolfe’s side and froze. Still kneeling. Still silent. Still his. He didn’t look down. Didn’t touch me. Didn’t reward. Because this wasn’t a reward. This was what was owed. This was what I was made for. And everyone saw it.
Every investor. Every enemy. Every woman who ever dreamed of being more than survival. They saw me—Collared. Breathless. Beautiful in my ruin.
And they didn’t laugh. They didn’t mock. They understood. Because in a world built on power and blood—obedience is the only true currency.
And I had paid in full.
With breath.
Bruises.
Worship.
The air changed again. This time it wasn’t subtle. It was a tear. Ripping. Loud. A seam splitting open at the center of the ballroom.
The music faltered. A violin screeched an ugly note. A server dropped a tray. Glass shattered against marble. Still—I didn’t lift my head. I didn’t breathe any harder than I had to.
The leash burned hotter against my throat. The silk dress clung tighter to my skin. The world tilted on its axis.
Royal chuckled low behind me. Not amused.
Hungry.
He stepped closer—his shoe brushing the back of my calf deliberately.
A nudge. A reminder. I didn’t move. I didn’t react. Because flinching wasn’t obedience. It was betrayal.
Wolfe’s shadow moved beside me. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t shield me. He didn’t even look at me. He looked out at the room collapsing around him with the cold calm of a man who had already decided what would be left standing. And it wasn’t them. It wasn’t the empire. The investors. The politicians. It was me. Breathing at his feet. Proof.
Loyal stood farther back. His face locked into a mask of control. But I saw the tremble in his hands. The way his jaw worked tight.
The way his eyes?—
Those empty eyes—kept flicking back to me like I was a wound he couldn’t heal.
He wouldn’t save me. None of them would. Because that wasn’t what this was. This wasn’t about rescue. It was about endurance. It was about learning to bleed in public and still smile when ordered.
A new ripple swept through the crowd. Not screens this time. Not whispers. Something worse. A woman in gold. Satin hugging her frame. A laugh soft enough to sound sweet. Sharp enough to slice the air open.
Selene.
